What Do You Want

Pants, I’m at a loss. You asked for the truth. I’ve given you the truth. My therapist vetted me, several police departments have vetted me, and I don’t know how else to help you deal with this.

I’m not going to give up blogging for you. Your emotional state regarding my writing isn’t my responsibility. It’s not my responsibility to shield you from unpleasant truths. If it bothers you so damn much, stop reading it. There is no other solution.

When you stop lashing out at me, I’ll stop watching you. And I don’t mean the rants. Those? Post those for days. No one who knows me or loves me cares about your opinions on what happened in my life. Please feel free. Stop driving by my house and sending your friends to spy on my page. That’s stupid, pointless and inflammatory.

You don’t have to accept or believe what I’ve told you about our relationship. I know what happened. He knows what happened. You’re pretty irrelevant to it all honestly. 🤷🏻‍♀️