Draining the Wound

I never published this in an attempt to end the conflict between us. It didn’t really work. The wounds are too deep and have been festering for too long. In fact keeping things to myself made things overall worse during my last few months in Ohio last year. So… I’m finally draining the wound. I’m stronger now, back at home with my Hubs and support system. It’s time to let it out and let it go. 

Kelli this is the first time I have ever commented on your page/blog or whatever. For some strange odd reason you hold me at the highest pedestole (*pedestal) for men. I was an asshole, jerk,selfish, blunt, honest to you about never loving you,dated mutable (*multiple is what he means here. Mutable would have been much to his benefit) women while together, had permission from you to be with other women when I went to the USAF. (Under very specific conditions) If anyone has any issues its you. You were a pussy pillow from the start, and I was a jerk enough to let you know up front. My first wife and I broke it off after 8 years of being together and that sent me into a bad place (you were never legally married, and the relationship was five years not eight. Eight years from when you and I started working together would have put you in high school. You always told me you met her when you were 19, not 17 unless you lied about it. She would have been 22 at the time and if you did begin your relationship when you were 17 it would have made her a statutory rapist herself, so maybe you did blur those details a bit to protect yourself. Either way, for someone to accuse me of making up a relationship that never happened, it’s weird to be so inconsistent with your own previous relationship.) and I even told you that I don’t want a relationship just a friend with benefits. I even told you that if she wanted me back I would be with her in a heartbeat and you said “lets hope that day never comes”.(I did say that because we were joking back and forth prior to the conversation switching to a serious nature. Once I realized you wanted to have a serious discussion I encouraged you to pursue repairing your “marriage”. Which I already wrote about months before this comment)

Now about these blogs that are about me, first off you were never raped, matter of fact if I recall the next morning when I said to you “you are not going to read too much into this are you” and you said “no are you?” plus if I recall right you came over that next night. (This is a true account of the first time we were together after our fist fight and falling out, but NOT the account of the assault which occurred as our ACTUAL first time ever, several months earlier. I’m not sure why you left out those first few months we were together other than it verifies my version of events) Actually a lot of your stories are just that stories with new and exciting twists that never happened. Here are some of my favorites I purposed to you, my father speeding, my mother changing clothes or dressing down to make you feel better that’s my #1, you being raped, my current wife slashing your tires, that I could possible cut/hurt myself, (this one wasn’t written by me or about you at all, and I called you out about freaking out over it) suffer from depression, night terrors funny that hasn’t happened in 10 years for some reason, you helping me through anything the only thing you help was you opening your legs when I asked, and this could go on and on. (Everything else is accurate to my memories of events. You did admit to lying to me just to get me in bed in a private email, so I’m willing to say some things I shared are untrue. Not because I created them, but because you did. If you lied and I trusted you, recounting your lies makes me foolish not crazy) You and only have made yourself remind yourself about the past but your stories are not 100% true, why is that? (They are 100% true from my point of view. Difference in perception does not a liar make. Also, PTSD is what keeps me coming back. Duh, read the DSM diagnosis criteria) Personally for me I could care less, and you know that. I mean you were never important to me, write all you want about me and make up more stories. HAVE A BLAST! I just don’t understand, no I am dumbfounded that you actually have a man that cares about you and three children now I guess? A family to care about but you would rather announce to the world that you still love me and care for me and that I am not being loved right. Also that there is some chance in a very cold and dark hell that I am going to feel like “WHAT IN THE HELL WAS I THINKING”. The answer to that is no I would take my chances swimming across a shark infested ocean with an open wound than to ever be with you. Its like the song I don’t care, “If you were dead or still alive I don’t care”. This bullshit of you desperately trying to get into, be apart of, or around my life is OVER. (I’m blogging 200 miles away, in a different state, recollecting my own thoughts and feelings. I’m not tagging you, I’m not sending you emails or making weird phone calls or whatever else you’ve accused me of. I’m writing, you choose to be here reading. Hmm… Who’s inserting themselves where?) I don’t care if you call me and say your kids are in that burning building, over there! I will hang up, walk away, never speak to you. I don’t want to be friends with you, I HATE you WAY TOO MUCH! When I mean HATE, its the deepest HATE AVAILABLE because when I asked you to please leave me and my wife/family members alone and to stay out of our lives, you kept pushing through as if you were making some sort of progress, like a “I am almost apart of his life”.You caused me and my wife to go through some hard times as if you had a chance if Jess and I were to split but we have came out stronger and happier. When the days comes that you leave this earth is the day I am truly at peace. I don’t want you to talk to me, my family, be around be family or anything just move on with your life, oh wait you can’t. I want you to pretend that I don’t exists. I have one major regret in life and that is meeting you. I wish I would have never told Steve to send me to Lebanon, doesn’t mean we would not have met but if I could take that away I wish I could. Matter of fact I wish I never left Rent a Center then I would have never worked for taco bell and problem solved we would have never meet and you and you psycho mother would still be stalking Little Jon (*Littlejohn) at Kings Island Taco Bell. The cherry on this is I hope somebody investigates the Little Jon thing and finds out how crazy you really are. (Yes, because rumors from a tiny Taco Bell franchise that no longer exists are such substantial proof that I was ever involved in any sort of “stalking”. It might help if you want someone to investigate if you could spell his name correctly. Don’t worry, I cleared it up for you when I went to the police myself.) I wish I never met you and I just kept my dick in my pants, but NO you were easy. (You and me both, buddy. Keeping your dick in your pants and never asking Steve to assign me to TYLERSVILLE to work with you, would have saved me a lot of grief. I would have just offed myself being overwhelmed with my mom’s bullshit if you hadn’t been there to save me. Winning for everyone!!!)
 I mean if I was this horrible person all this time and a sexual abuser then why be around me and live with me for 2 YEARS! I mean come on that makes no sense what so ever. “Help me you raped me, oh wait its love, I love you” Kelli you telling everyone that I sexually abused you then proceeding to go over your good times and bad and over the years should prove to readers you are FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD. It makes no sense but “You hurt me so you raped me, you rapist!” (That’s why I went to therapy in the first place. I didn’t understand why I loved someone who raped me, and abused me. According to science everything you just listed there is proof that the mental damage you caused was real. Go figure.) I wish I could go back to Andre’s driveway and break it off with you when you wanted too. (Another thing we agree on. Why the hell didn’t you just fucking end it when you had the opportunity? The first time we talked about it I was a mess, I already dealt with that, and even wrote about it here. Standing in Andre’s drive way all you had to do was say no, it’s over and we could have gone on our merry way separate from each other with out all this drama and animosity.) There was a reason why I lived with Andre and not you because I did not want to be with you plus I was with someone else. There was a reason that you had my dog because my parents could not take care of him because they were out of the country but when they got back, SURPRISE my father came and picked him up. (Nope, I went up to your parents house and dropped him off. The look of horror on your dad’s face when he realized you hadn’t broken up with me was priceless. He was PISSED) Also if I raped you then why be with a predator? Strange when I was with Jess for the first time I was nothing but a gentlemen and asked her, “Is this okay”,” Are you sure you want to do this”, and my favorite “can I kiss you”. (I’m not sure how much you can count being gentlemanly going home with a stripper for an orgy with her husband and another girl. She told me when she called me back in 2008. Funny that you BOTH told me you kept calling her Kelli… Not Amanda, Michelle, Lindsey, Stephanie, Sharron, Erin, Angela, Annabell, or Carol… Kelli. But I guess that makes sense knowing I was just the person that you fulfilled your sexual fantasies with) Because my Father taught me to always ask before doing anything. (This is true. Your father is a good man. Too bad he wasn’t around enough for his manners or morals to rub off on you. I will say after this I understand why he is/was so hard on you) You may be asking yourself “if you don’t care as much as you say then why are you responding? I am glad you asked! You see your readers only get the made up fictional version as if you were a victim of sexual abuse. I want your readers for once read what I have to say but I am sure you will be a coward and will take it down. And what is this PTSD bullshit you are talking about? (The PTSD I’ve had since I was 4 because of my mothers abuse? The PTSD that’s always had very little to do with you, aside from the way it kept me from emotionally dealing with the way you treated me? The PTSD which repressed the memories of the violence, and details of the rape until 2013 when I started therapy? The PTSD I’ve been officially diagnosed with, and is written multiple times in my medical records since 2013? That one? Yes… Well…) The only PTSD you would have is when I lied to you and told you I was in Colorado (You told me you were in Nevada, not Colorado. You can’t even keep your own lies straight anymore) for 2 more weeks but really was home in Ohio coming back from Michigan with my wife from visiting her family and when I got to Detroit I decided right then and there its time to break it off with you and I wanted nothing to do with you. (When your dad made you call me to break it off, yes. You were thrilled making that phone call) I remember the conversation, its was like you knew it was coming, (your dad again) and then you started crying as if that had an effect on me. Right there when I said “its almost like you knew it was going to happen”, because you knew that day would come. When you said I love you I would say I don’t and then you would say can you pretend because it would make me feel better. (Hmm… Now it’s interesting that you avoided the first few months we were together at the beginning of this debate, starting with our “dating” relationship, but here you do go back to those first few months. This was a few weeks post rape when I was super fucked up emotionally. I did and said a lot of unhealthy things during that time, leading up to our eventual fist fight and falling out. I’ve addressed that in my writing) That should have been my red flag to get the hell out of there. I don’t believe you anymore or trust you anymore and If you are really sick,PTSD, or mentally unstable because I don’t care. I cant deal with your lies, fictional stories, or your desperate attempts anymore. (So stop reading, and sending people in to spy on my life??) Jess and I have tried friendly talking,you getting closure, and saying we want to help so you leave us the FUCK alone and nothing is or wanting is helping you. (Have you tried going the fuck away and letting me deal with my shit my own way? I guarantee that will help everyone out. Give that a try) Maybe its you can only help the people who wants to be helped, and you Kelli do not want help. You desperately try to get under my wife’s skin, push her buttons, and or get a reaction out of her because YOU KNOW SHE IS THE ONLY ONE THAT WOULD GIVE A SHIT! NO one else gives a shit, comments on your post or shows any interest. (What the hell even is this blurb? You admit she’s obsessed, but I’m the one to blame for your suffering?) Also just to answer the what if question of if Jess was never in the picture would Kelli be in the picture? I am glad you asked because I only told one person about this. From the beginning I planned on leaving Kelli once and for all. When I left and or came back from the USAF, yes I meet Jess while in the Air Force but we did not announce our love until after the new year. We hung out a lot but as i did not say I love you until it got closer for me to leave the base. But before that I came back to Ohio for winter break and I was dating a fitness Girl named Amanda, and her and I saw each other the whole time I was back. Dinner, movies, romantic walks, ice cream. remember when keebler and I made a huge deal about dropping you off on new years eve because you were underage, yeah Amanda was waiting for me. (You must have done this with all of your girlfriends when you came back, because we did this too. We saw Sweeny Todd. You hated it. We also participated in all the various Christmas celebrations with our families and your friends. FYI: Everyone got really tired of the way you were treating me at the end. Wes told me you were cheating when you went outside to take a call at Waffle House, and Keeb stopped teasing me and told me to dump your ass when you went into Speedway and left us sitting in the car. That would be why I had tears on my face when you got back and he was pretty much quiet the rest of the way back to my apartment. Steve told me you came home early too, but when I confronted you about all of those accusations you denied them. Keeb was just pissed at you for being a douche, Steve let it slip before he realized I didn’t know, but Wes… I should have listened to Wes. He was just looking out for you. Everyone knew we didn’t have a healthy relationship, but no one aside from Wes really cared enough to call you out. Besides all of that, remember when we were arguing about going to the laundromat on New Years Eve, and I accused you of going to see another girl? Not a sarcastic joke. I was confronting you. I already knew the truth. Instead of just being honest with me, you caved and helped me with the laundry. Plus you told me about Amanda practically a million times!! I didn’t remember her name, until you wrote this out but I did remember it started with an A. I thought it was Angela… unless there was an Angela in there too with all the other girls. “This girl at the bar, Amanda, was sitting on my lap and threw red glitter on me. I was pissed. I told her I had a girlfriend to get away from me, but she didn’t listen.” When I heard a girl in the background of our phone calls? I asked who it was every single time and every single time you told me it was Amanda. When you would get distracted on your phone, and I asked who you were talking to and you answered “my girlfriend” WHEN I WAS SITTING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF YOU AND MY PHONE DIDN’T RING. You told on yourself forever before anyone else told me. Come on, dude! I was definitely foolish to stay with you, but I wasn’t stupid. I ignored your cheating, but I knew about it from day fucking one. Confronting you is also why I called you a million times on New Years because I heard you with her in the back ground the first time you answered and immediately hung up on me. Remember how I packed your bags, including all of our photos together and everything else that reminded me of you? But you came home, apologized for not answering my calls, dried my tears, unpacked your bag and held me until I fell asleep. I should have kicked you out and never looked back) As it got closer to leaving to go back to my base Amanda told me was falling for me and she wanted to be series (*serious) when I get back. My eyes were set on Jess but if I could not have her then I could settle. You see Kelli was never going to be in the picture even after the multiple fake pregnancy scares, when we had sex and she desperately tried to get pregnant, having sex with me while I sleep, (Now this one straight up made me laugh out loud. Actually, when I wasn’t interested in fucking you, your go to manipulation was always “I’ll cum inside you” because I did want kids with you. Thank God that never happened!! I’m not sure what all this “fucking you in your sleep” business is about, because that was always your thing. I’d be asleep and you’d come home to have your way with me whether I was entirely awake, consenting or not. My husband can’t even kiss me on the forehead after I’ve fallen asleep now, thanks to your weird sleep sex fantasies. Those times can also be considered rape if we want to get super technical. That would bring the tally up to four that I can remember, and God only knows how many more times I didn’t partially wake up or have any memories. I’d say multiple non consenting sex acts would most DEFINITELY classify our relationship as sexually abusive among other things) and my favorite is when we were at a mall and she wanted to look at rings and I said “Well that’s never going to happen”. (After discussing plans for marriage and our future the night before, which is why I suggested it in the first place. Pretty obvious now that was just bullshit, my bad. What about that afternoon we went to Lorelei looking for rings before Christmas? Hmm? After eating our ice cream and stopping to visit your mom at work.) I truly wonder if your husband knows that he is second best to me, because if I were him and you started proclaiming you love to another guy, talking about/blogging about another guy that you cant get over mind you, I would leave your ass so quick. (Would you? Would you leave some one who constantly reminds you of an ex? Hmm… Don’t think so, because if your wife is the only one who reads my blog… And has for nearly a decade, you swear you want me out of your life, but you haven’t left her the only one keeping me in your life. But that’s what I said here to begin with) Personally I don’t have to cause you pain or remind you about painfully memories, you do it for me. Regardless of what you think or believe what really happened in your life Kelli I personally and only me WINS everyday because you put yourself through your own shit, depression, misery, PTSD, and GOD knows what else and I get to hear how horrible your life is and it brings a smile to my face and if that is not CHECKMATE then i don’t know what is. On an ending note you never had Jess in CHECKMATE either just in case you forgot she has the lest name Helt you have Hale. CHECKMATE KELLI! 

I almost didn’t date my husband because of the similarities between our names honestly. I knew, just knew, that you’d take issue with it being so similar. Thanks for that. I also love that you think the game I was referring to had you as the prize. 

I’ve never needed you to love me, I’m fine on my own. I wanted to show you why you deserve to love yourself. The very first time we were in the car together coming back from picking up product at King’s and you played your favorite song, telling me how much you related to it, that’s the first moment my heart broke for you. Explaining to me about your Badtz Maru shirts, telling me all the stories about being lonely and ostracized as a kid because you were different, those moments are what kept me around. Maybe it was all just bullshit to earn my sympathy, and I was just gullible enough to fall for it. Sure, but having a huge issue with me, and my capacity to forgive you after everything you put me through, speaks volumes more than these words you wrote. 

LOVE YOUR GODAMN SELF. Love your goddamn, SELF. I don’t want your love, I don’t want your friendship, I don’t want you back. I never, NEVER, want to see, speak or read from you again. I loath your attention and wish to all things holy that you would finally leave and stop hanging around the fringe of my life the way you have been for almost a decade. 
I don’t know your motivations. Maybe you are just a sick individual who enjoys toying with people, and feeds off the Narcicistic supply my openness provides? Maybe it’s not you at all, but your wife seeking the supply and using your past to manipulate and abuse you? Maybe it’s guilt, especially since you seem to be consumed with my disorder and stuck on if our first time together robbed me of my virginity? I have no idea. 

By sharing my memories and publicly vocalizing my forgiveness I was trying to give you some relief from guilt, deception and mistrust. You don’t seem to want it, so for that I will apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed, and acted on my assumption that you needed/wanted absolution for your crimes. 

I know I’m not entirely innocent in the trainwreck that was our relationship. I can own my mistakes, my illness and abusive behaviors. Hell, when I went to the police to report the assault I even confessed my own crimes against you. I told the detective that I hit you first when they verified the service call to our apartment, and I came clean about my first husband years ago before I even thought about how damaging our relationship was. I can own it all, when will you? Can you?