Truce

Have we gone over to the dark side? For some people our recent posts may have crossed an invisible line and sure we could have let sleeping dogs lie. But, that's just not who we are. We are in it to win it and if we permanently destroy friendships along the way, oh well. The bridges were burning long before we starting writing about them.
Betrayal of trust, of love, of hope changes who you are forever and post trauma life alters. The more pain thrust onto a heart the longer the spiritual and emotional journey. Letting the past go will never happen. Overtime the memories of a life once lived will become few and far between. Ultimately what remains in your heart are the innocent still portraits of a once happy couple. Confusion and frustration forever circle the final images, questions left unanswered, years erased without cause and an arrogant self-pity party shielding the defendant.
I take the blame for allowing M (aka JSR) back into my life. For believing a ring and a marriage license had indeed changed him for the better. I forgave a once bitter past in hopes that this time I would get a prettier closure. It seemed to be working and I truly thought he had matured. I was genuinely happy for him and his new life and I still am, although now the ending is far from pretty. I thought I finally had a proper label as a friend, but then I guess I was only given a temporary label that sooner or later was bound to expire.
In hindsight, the note that started this open diary time capsule perhaps was cut and dry and a simple answer in itself. Had I not been burned before by M maybe I wouldn't still be so bitter.
I never wanted M. I will continue to point this out; I was perfectly fine with the friend label. We had started as merely friends and life was far less complicated that way. Some people think that the fact I decided to send baby gifts makes it seem like I was trying to become the third wheel. That was never my intention and I second-guessed whether it would be taken the wrong way. I'll take any excuse to shop and kids clothes are wicked cute. I'm still great friends with most of my ex boyfriends or "fun guys" and there has never been an issue with their spouses. So, perhaps I came into this renewed friendship with a slightly unorthodox view.
I don't agree with how I was let go and while there is never a sweet way to cut someone out of your life, there are far more noble and ethical choices. If you give someone a second chance and the privilege to be your friend again and then they blindside you and throw you out with the trash well there is no nice way to deal with that pain and embarrassment either. This careless decision is of course at the core of the story of M. In many ways it defines who he is.
Life is a day-by-day learning experience. How I felt last month or last week isn't necessarily the same as how I feel today in regards to certain people. There are cons to posting your thoughts and bitching your frustrations on a permanent page. You sometimes forget about the six degrees of separation or lack of privacy from the cyber wall. I don't regret anything I have written in the past about my feelings for M or about M and company. They are my thoughts. I will apologize for any negative words I may have thrown out about M's father. I'm not a doctor and if I have offended certain people with my words then I'm sorry. I would expect the same apology from the people who threw slandering and bias claims at me.
This was never intended to cause a fight. I had tried so many times to get a more detailed answer and never heard back. I write for myself, for my personal well being. While I can understand how certain people may not agree or approve with me displaying my life for anyone to read, I won't change who I am to please you. I'm a stubborn cookie. I hate that a handful of people are so angry with me, but there is nothing I could have ever done to change the way you feel now.
I wish the past had been left behind. I was quite fine with it like that. I feel bittersweet these days. I realize that with each new post I am burning more bridges and the army is growing. I would love to call a truce and one day is able to sit down and have a drink together. I realize this will never happen and so the story of M continues.
Kate