Latest Posts
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I want to talk directly to you. I need to explain some things. You’re reading this blog — I don’t know why. But you are, I want you to know something:Despite everything we’ve gone through over the past month, I’m still in love with you. A couple of weeks ago, I sent some messages. Yes, they had an edge. Yes, I retracted them. Because I knew they weren’t necessary. That was my pain slipping through. You might not understand it, but that’s what I’ve been feeling — pain.You’ve put me through hell.
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Monday was a tough day. It started with an emotional flashback that hit me unexpectedly, and then, out of nowhere, my ex sent me a message that was full of anger, resentment, and utter nastiness. She opened with the line, “Apart from ‘cheating’ on you, what have I actually done?” The use of quotation marks around “cheating” is significant here. She’s admitted to messaging someone intimately for two weeks but still can’t bring herself to refer to it as cheating. It’s a clear example of how she downplays her actions. Meanwhile, she got paranoid about me receiving TikTok’s from a…
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I had a moment yesterday. One of those gut-punch moments that comes out of nowhere and just completely knocks the wind out of you. It wasn’t anything big. In fact, it was something tiny — something most people wouldn’t even notice. I was cleaning the speakers on my phone. Just brushing some dust out. I took off the case, gave it a proper wipe down, turned it over — and there it was.
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I want to talk about something important—a memory I’ll never forget. One that hurts deeply but also keeps me grounded. It’s the reason I know I can’t ever go back. The day I found out my wife had cheated, I called her. She didn’t sound guilty—she was angry. Furious that I had read her messages. More upset about being caught than about what she had done. When she got home, things exploded. A huge argument. She tried to kick me out of the house. I asked if her mum knew, and suddenly her tone changed—she begged me not to tell…
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I’ve taken a couple of days away from writing, and I think it was the right move. There’s been a lot to process over a short period of time, and stepping back allowed me to breathe, reflect, and embrace the fact that I’m actually starting to feel… better. Not fixed. Not perfect. But better. During this time, there’ve been moments that felt like deliberate provocation — small interactions that, in the past, might’ve set off a chain of reactive thoughts or angry responses. But instead of biting, I chose not to engage. Not because I’m avoiding conflict, but because I’m…
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It doesn’t matter how you try to spin it. Maybe you’ve told yourself it wasn’t cheating. Maybe that makes it easier to sleep at night. But the truth is, the label doesn’t change the reality of what you did. And deep down, I think you know that. You carried on behind my back for weeks—maybe months. You sent him messages, shared intimate thoughts, and gave away pieces of yourself that were supposed to be mine. You got caught up in it, addicted to the thrill. You hid it from me deliberately, and when I asked who you were talking to,…
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Isn’t it kind of sad? I’ve taken a long, hard look at myself. I’ve admitted where I went wrong. I’ve apologised — not just to her, but to myself too. I’ve committed to doing better. I’ve done the work. I’m still doing the work. And I’ve faced the pain of it all head-on. She, too, has admitted things. She’s confessed that she was talking to another man for at least two weeks before we officially broke up — emotionally stepping outside the relationship long before the words “it’s over” were spoken. She’s accepted that she made mistakes.
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A visual post published on July 17, 2025.
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There’s a distinct difference between dwelling and reflecting — and I’ve realised I’ve moved from the former into the latter. I’m no longer confused, upset, or emotionally tangled in the past. I’ve reached a place where I can move forward productively. I’m investing my time and energy into the things that matter to myself, my daughter, my family, and the friends who have shown up for me in ways I never expected.
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I’ve noticed a strange trend — when people can’t control the narrative anymore, they resort to throwing labels around. It’s easier than owning their part in things.
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