I knew I was part of 2. I know was was half of a pair. I searched for my half. I gave up the search. Searched again. Found some who felt good. who almost fit. Felt really good. But not fit right. Sometimes fit better then right. But not right. I would have though. But always, it fell apart bc no fit right.
One day I see my other half. I see him and his eyes and his gait and his smile and his chin and I hear his perfect voice, his laughter.
I thought he saw me too.
7 years all in now. December 29, 2013 is the day I met him. Today is December 19, 2020. The past few months, in perfect 2020 form, have been nothing short of chaos, disappointment, and utter shock.
I don’t think I ever knew Lucifer. I don’t mean that like, figuratively. Like, I didn’t know his true character. Though that is true also. I mean, I don’t even know if his real name is Josh. I don’t know if his birthday is 12/9, if his number in sports was always 14 (while his twin brother’s was 13), that he doesn’t like chocolate (same as me), and that his favorite color is blue. I think all these things were made up. I don’t know his parents names, even though I thought I did, his family addresses, even his social security number. I don’t know if he is a major con artist or works for some governance shadow organization.
I do know now that this country, sporty, works with his hands, smart but not book smart, outgoing, innocent at heart guy I’ve been in love with was not real. I know now he is very very proficient in computers and technology, enough to take over my whole digital life to where even though I think I’m seeing what’s on the internet, it certainly looks real enough and is full of information, im pretty sure now it’s altered, or edited, or completely fabricated. I don’t think these blogs even go anywhere. I don’t think anyone has ever read them but him and his. 4 years of writing, all for nothing except Lucifer’s sick entertainment. Hi dear. Happy now?
I thought the problem was ‘the other guy’. There was no other guy. There was no Lucifer. There was just evil playing a sick joke on me. Because I’m the lover who took it.
My love is a joke. To him, even my children’s love was a joke. We are just entertainment to him and nothing more. Nothing more. I can’t run. At least not in the small sense. I thought changing my phone number would help. Small potatoes to this demon. He was 2 steps ahead of me the whole time. He almost had me convinced to go to this mental hospital but there is no way in hell I will go there now. They probably have orders to give me a lobotomy. Not that I would resist, I’d honestly welcome it at this point. But not for his entertainment. Not for his benefit.
Why am I still writing this? I guess just in case I’m wrong. So maybe you can see what years and years of abuse (his) and denial (mine) can to do you. 2020 is confusing enough. Now add straight up evil. I promise you won’t know what the fuck is happening.
My brother says I’m predictable. That Lucifer always is ahead of me bc he knows exactly what I’m going to do before I even think of it. It’s probably true. I’m double fucked. He has me surrounded both outside me and inside me.
Because things in this sinister web he weaves are falling apart at the seams, probably intentionally, my mental health is breaking. I can’t keep track of the different lies/ lives. I can’t keep one storyline he presents to me apart from the next and between him and my own mind, each day is a new adventure. I literally can’t tell what way is up anymore. I can’t trust any person in my life, not even my own family. Everyone is either with him or used by him as a pawn. I don’t know who Lucifer is or why he decided to do this to me. Logically, I have to assume I’m one of several toys to him. I am nothing but a toy to him. And not even his toy. Just a toy.
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist. Lucifer doesn’t exist. And so, neither do I.
I hope I make it to write again soon. I don’t know if I will. More likely bc of my hand then his, but I’m pretty sure now he wants me to. This has been some game about what does it take to get a girl to kill herself. To have the ultimate power over another person.
Seems a bit over the top. You could have just asked dear. I probably would have done it for you, I loved you that much.
Sick right?
Don’t ever love anyone this much yall. I’m serious, don’t. Nothing good comes of it. What moments of joy there are are followed by millions of pain, especially if the object of your love is pure evil. I never believed the narcissist hype. I thought it was unfair and overdramatic. Now I’m not so sure.
Lucifer, not even love can save him. Nor me. I wonder who suffers more? I can’t imagine he feels true love or happiness to be this way. But what do I know? Maybe I just covering my own pride. I know the truth is I’m the only one suffering. He is amused. That’s all this ever was. All my life is. Amusement.
There is no revenge. There is no justice or retribution. There is no God. There is only his laughing at me as I bleed into the bathtub.
I’m sorry my God, my mom and dad, my children. I brought this on myself. Maybe not at first, but I chose it as time went by. I truly loved him that much and I regret it now. Though I don’t remember choosing to love him, I chose to have him. To play his games. I can only say in my own weak defense, I thought you stuck it through for love. And love him I did. I just didn’t love me. So neither did he.
Of Ice and Men Blog 