The Whole 9 Yards

I received an email last Tuesday night around 11 PM. I had ended my day on a high note after pushing through cardio day at the gym. I work ten-hour days, so showing up for myself like that is a win. It felt good.

Then this email arrived later that night, shifting everything.

This stranger dropped a bomb on me. It was concise and apologetic, but it left me with more questions than answers. First of all… where did she even get my email?

I have a few theories. Maybe she works with my old company, since earlier that morning, I had emailed HR asking for my tax forms. Or maybe she found it through my blog. I have it linked on my Instagram. Either way, it felt invasive.

I empathize with the gravity of what she’s been through. I truly do. But dropping something that heavy with no closure feels selfish. It felt like she wanted to relieve herself of guilt at the price of my peace. A woman I never even knew existed just changed my reality.

Honestly, I’m thankful for her email because it gave me the final push to face the truth I’ve been carrying for so long. Even though I thought I had made peace with the inevitability of my relationship, I didn’t expect it to end this way.

This heavy.
This painful.

The following day, I crashed out. I could have gotten past the email. But to be gaslit and shouted at for it was what pushed me over the edge. I snapped and threw my beloved olive tree to the ground.

Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw him reach into his pocket and take out his phone. I turned to him, and he was recording me.

His whole alibi about this whole email was that this woman was crazy. If this ever gets out, he was going to do the exact same thing to me.

Nothing I did that night was as crazy as giving him everything. Years of carrying the emotional, mental, and financial weight.

Why am I writing about something so personal, so soon?
In his narrative, I’m already the crazy one.

Might as well play the part.