“Never realized the passing hours of evening showers,

Slip noose hangin’ in my darkest dreams.

I’m strangled by your haunted social scene.

Just a pawn outplayed by a dominating queen.”

~ “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” Elton John

Although I felt some poetic justice in Anya’s “Can’t move” response—she had no idea how many times the things she said and did left me feeling the same way—I knew the great cost that came with it. After her “Don’t classify me with the general public” and “I feel I’ve betrayed my kids” statements, I felt completely betrayed. It’s fine for a woman to change her mind about where she wanted to go to dinner, but after all I endured to be with her, I didn’t deserve for her to feel this way. Her words opened the gates of hell to me—she had deceived me as much as she deceived Jackson. What she texted me was cold and heartless, shining more light on how this relationship was all about her. They represented a flagrant disregard to everything I fought for her to have, and although she would claim she warned me, nothing could’ve prepared me for learning that loving me was not love but a betrayal of her kids. Money distorted what she considered a betrayal. The day she told me she wallpapered her son’s room with dollar bills, I should’ve run for my life, instead I believed a woman who never dreamt of love, to know what love meant. If she was proud to not be part of the general public in regards to divorce rates, then Jackson could’ve had sex with an orangutang, brought her back the Ebola virus, and she would have still chosen to stay with him. After learning that she betrayed her kids and never planned to divorce Jackson no matter what I did, even after telling me what I needed to do then doing those things, after promising to be with me if I swept her off her feet, it was official—she had taken not only two years from me, but my belief in love forever. As my mind claimed victory over the beauty of the heart, all that made her beautiful began to fade away.

When I didn’t hear back from Anya, I searched for the emails Denise sent me over the course of our relationship, along with the one that ended it. When I sent them to Anya, I wanted her to see how this happens to me time and time again—how the ones who claim to love me do the same thing. I could understand a heartbreak like this in my twenties, I had time to figure things out, but this was the mother of all self-esteem crushing heartbreaks, and I was now nearing forty. The more things changed, the more time passed me by, it only proved that love would always be a dream for me—never a reality. Anya painted a nice picture, we both got to have fun, grew and laughed, but she was the only one who felt that way. For her to believe being able to experience what I did with Anya was a positive in my life, she had the same amount of arrogance Jackson did. No doubt Anya had feelings for me, she couldn’t fake the tears and joy I saw and felt, but that only existed as long as she didn’t have to announce to the world she loved me—as long as it remained a secret, as if Jackson was the perfect husband and she had the perfect marriage. To be honest, it all felt surreal at this particular time, but inside I had never seethed more about anything.

After I sent Denise’s emails to Anya on the morning of the first day of October, I followed-up about them.

ME: “I don’t have anything else to say. Those were a sequence of emails I received from my ex. Since it was a long distance relationship we emailed each other often. Texting wasn’t an option for us. It’s a good example why I feel the way I do about things and why I didn’t want to go through this again. Why I walked away from you initially.”

ME: “I’m exhausted. I helped a friend move today. Hopefully I gave you a little insight into my thinking process. Why I read into things as much as I did. It’s because, like you, she got me really excited. She never loved me but she was making plans for us so something was there. She got me really excited about our future then hit me with that email. It doesn’t matter anymore but it took me a long time to get over that. I walked away from you for a reason—all I’m feeling now is a thousand times worse than what she did to me.”

ME: “Nice guys finish last. That’s all I know.”

ANYA: “I’m all cut up. Can’t move.”

How did she think I felt at dinner in San Francisco? How did she think I felt when reading “I felt I sinned and betrayed my kids” and “Don’t classify me with the general public”? After all I endured for her over the last two years? All the times I’d stay home too sad to leave the house while she’s out partying with friends and enjoying life as if I didn’t exist? Making plans she knew would rip my heart of my chest if I knew about them. Lying in bed next to a man she told me she refused to kiss anymore and never returning his “I love you’s”. Now, she sided with him after all the infidelities, even willing to hand over her phone and beg for forgiveness? After she took two years and counting from me? She may claim she felt responsible, but they were just crocodile tears if she believed she betrayed her kids by falling in love with a man who would walk the ends of the earth and back for her. She even judged me in a situation, without seeing all the sacrifices I made, tying my hands behind my back unable to love her the way anyone else would be able to. How could she expect me to see her side of things when she never attempted to see mine—she even had no idea what I went through and based it on her own feelings that were more self-serving love than a love for me. Sadly, as special as I thought she was and deserving of true love, she was no different than every other superficial woman in the world who lusted for money and popularity. The greatest heartbreak was learning that the Anya I fell in love with was deserving of an Oscar.

ME: “I’ve said what I needed to say. Not something I wanted to do but when you’re telling me “I don’t want you to think we’re getting back together” and “Maybe you can get a roommate” and “You will have again” and “You will care again”. I know you thought you were meaning well but it was too much, especially when I think your husband should be the one hearing these things and not me. I didn’t want to tell you any of those things.”

ME: “Thanks for reading. That’s all I could really ask for.”

As much as she wanted me to believe she was “cut up” and “couldn’t move”, I found it hard to believe. Anya had proven to me more than once that she would say anything to get what she needed from me, and even what she didn’t need from me. I refused to fall prey to her politics ever again—a love for politics she incorporated into her everyday life to manipulate others for her own benefit. She may have been able to bait and switch on me like the most adroit salesperson could do, but I was dropping the curtain on this shit show. Anya was beyond cruel for allowing me to feel so much for her if she found people who divorced to be in a group of people she would never consider being a part of. To find out things two years later that she should’ve told me in the very beginning was maddening. If she viewed herself as above the general divorcing public, then why didn’t she tell me that was the reason she was still there? Instead, she tells me no one would want to be with her because she has baggage. After doing my due diligence before agreeing to date her, and then trusting her answers, she decided to deceive me anyway. I couldn’t have imagined this level of deceit from her although the very nature of her love for me was based on it. She never had my consent to be involved in a relationship with her if she felt it would betray her kids—this would leave me traumatized as much as a rape victim would be. The only person who was honest at the beginning of our relationship was me. Beyond upset and devastated, I still held out hope that the woman I fell in love with would somehow emerge from this to prove me wrong about everything.

Later that evening, I sent her another message.

ME: “Just know what I sent you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I know you’re a good person and even good people do bad things sometimes. I don’t know how I can ever trust anyone again if I can’t put my trust in someone who is in love with me. Just like when you told me if you can’t trust me then who can you trust? I know that it hasn’t been easy for you over there and I know you feel bad and responsible. And you’ve been really nice to me, but my life is a wreck and I don’t know how to handle it other than to wake up and realize all I’m up against now. You don’t know how much I hated to tell you all the things I did, especially the job part. It appears I need to do whatever it takes to move on and I have to see this love of ours for what it really was now. I’m sorry we had to end up this way. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

I thought I might hear back from her after she read this text in the morning, but I never did.

I hoped she would do whatever it took to prove me wrong. I wanted to be wrong about everything, but her continued silence only confirmed the validity of my feelings. She couldn’t even send a message to tell me “I can understand how you could feel that way Landyn, but you’re wrong” or “You’re taking what I said out of context, what I meant was…”. Fighting for our love, in her mind, was choosing sexual pleasure over her children, telling me all I needed to know about Anya’s “love” for me. No wonder why she demanded me to never question it.

I didn’t know who I was anymore—a different person shoved into a colder world with nothing to believe in ever again. Even as I tried to see through her eyes, Anya only saw through her own. In no uncertain terms did I see myself as an angel in this by any stretch of the imagination, but it was because Anya had misrepresented her situation to me. I meant what I said and said what I meant. Never would I allow someone to develop enormous feelings for me without going to bat for them. If I had kids, and I encouraged someone to fall deeply in love with me, it was no longer about just me dealing with staying for their sake. I’d have recognized I made a conscious decision, not a mistake, to allow someone to care for me greatly for a reason regardless of my children. I would never bring someone to heaven on earth who loved me dearly and kick them out the way Anya did. For her to even sit on a fence was cruel and if she knew she wanted me to date her, by telling me all she did about her philandering husband, then I’d be there to catch her—no questions asked. Anya even claimed she wasn’t submissive like her mother was, and she proved that up until now. Up until Jackson stalked me on Facebook, instead of blaming the dishonest spouse, she blamed me instead—the man who honored and cherished her. When Anya made the decision to never leave, way before she found Katie’s essay, her goal became to slowly weed me out banking on me eventually giving up. When that didn’t happen, she would just wait for the moment I’d crack and then she had her way out. Her tears were never meant for me or for us, but the guilt she felt for her kids. Everything was starting to fall into place now after she told me she felt she betrayed them for merely falling in love with a man who honored and respected her. The only way Anya would tell me, about betraying her kids and not wanting to be classified as the general public, is if she truly didn’t love me. Anya was unable to move because she was caught in her own web of lies after I tried to break free from it.

Anya’s continued silence only added to the fuel burning inside me. Since she seemed to see nothing wrong with her husband stalking me on Facebook, doing nothing to defend me, I decided to see if Carolyn and Debbie were on Facebook. It had always burned me that she never told them about Jackson’s infidelities. Her reasoning for not doing so was “Why paint a bad picture of someone?” Well, for one she could’ve saved me a lot of heartache by following that kind of wisdom. Instead, she chose to paint a bad picture of me to her friends as a homewrecker, if they never knew about his infidelities. Another thing that bothered me was how she never allowed them to hear my voice. They only got Anya’s side of the story and never received mine, as if my life didn’t even matter. I had even lost all the trust in what she told them about me. If they thought Jackson was a faithful man, Anya had to tell them I was just in this for shits and giggles and was just fine if she stayed for the sake of the kids—the reason they thought I was “an angel”. For all I knew, she told them Landyn was okay with the arrangement, even after all we shared, and supported her marriage and would never want her to leave Jackson because it would hurt the kids. I found it troublesome that the woman who loved me wouldn’t defend my reason for being in her life to anyone. Now, she could tell me “I love you forever” until she was blue in the face and I wouldn’t have believed a single word of it. This woman did not love me—she only loved herself. When she never shared Jackson’s transgressions with them, it led them to believe I was a true homewrecker—the only bad picture she painted of someone was of me. For them to enable Anya to pursue a relationship with me just because she had fallen out of love with her husband was awfully twisted of them. Did Jackson’s wealth even make them do things they didn’t want to do?

I wanted them to know the truth about why I chose to be in Anya’s life—straight from the horse’s mouth and not a biased party’s watered-down version. I wanted all her friends to know about Jackson Caiaphas, so guys like myself, even Lance, would no longer have “tragic” experiences. If Lance thought his loss was tragic, I was afraid to know what my loss was. Anya seemed to need a man who could care less about love—who just enjoyed no strings attached sex. She got a hell of a bonus from me, and if she thought this love was free of consequences, that my heart was a free ride, she had the wrong man—nobody rides for free. Not after all I endured just for the chance to hear her say “I promise to be with you.”. It’s not the fact she wasn’t with me that brought me so much pain and grief. That alone tore me apart, but it was the fact she never knew even after all we shared if she could make a promise—easily making the promise to continue lying to her kids about her marriage to their father. If I ever mattered to her for a single day out of our twenty-two months together, she would’ve made the impossible possible. Sadly, Anya never wanted reality—she believed it meant hurting her kids and didn’t include the means to the finer things in life. Unknowingly, I was about to learn, she wasn’t swallowed up by her husband’s narcissism—she exhibited the same sociopathic traits as he did. The real tragedy was finding out the hard way how narcissists, psychopaths and sociopaths operate to destroy the lives of others.

I located both Carolyn and Debbie on Facebook and then emailed them the same message. When I didn’t hear from Anya for the last several days after my messages, making no effort to defend herself, I started to believe I was right about all the things I never wanted to be right about. The time had come to set the record straight and since it was quite clear she had no plans to defend me, or us, I took it upon myself to do so. If Anya had no plans to prove her love for me after allowing me to feel all of this, and I wasn’t able to communicate it to people to fight for all I did the last twenty two months, then I could never fight for a damn thing.

Hi Debbie & Carolyn,

I’m sorry to bother you with an email to your Facebook account, but I picked this up from a certain someone. I don’t know what Anya has told you about me or us, but she told me you girls know pretty much everything. She has told me you girls think I’m a “saint” and you both stick up for me. I really appreciate that but my fear is I don’t think you really know why I’m here. I would like the opportunity to explain myself to you and I think this is the only acceptable forum I have do so considering the situation.

This is what Anya has communicated to me. She told me you guys know she is unhappy in her marriage and that she just fell out of love with Jackson. Unfortunately, I feel I have to defend myself and my position to you both because I don’t want you to think I’m a terrible person and neither is Anya. I don’t want you to think she was being selfish or she was acting irresponsibly. She’s a human being and sometimes I think she forgets that because of all the people she tries to please in her life.

What Anya communicated to me is that she fell out of love with Jackson and is unhappy in her marriage because he has cheated on her several times. I guess the last time was 5 years ago or so. When I met her in 2007, she told me it was 3 years ago. He’s also done some other things too that chipped away her feelings for him. I have to tell you this because I think dating her for just being “unhappy” without being made aware of her husband’s infidelities makes us both look bad. There is no way I’d be here for any other reason, especially if she was just “unhappy” in her marriage. I would never put a faithful loving husband through this kind of suffering because I’ve been in that position before. It had to be a long history of gross infidelities and disrespect for me to even consider seeing Anya.

I really don’t have any respect for Jackson as her husband and I have no respect for their marriage whatsoever for what he has put her through over the years. A bad marriage should only hurt those on the inside of it, not those on the outside of it. My only fault was opening my heart to someone who led me to believe they were in great despair and emotional anguish. If I thought for a second that falling in love and wanting to be with her would hurt her kids, I would’ve never given her a chance—it’s why we’ve gone in circles. The pain she feels about our breakup is just an extension of the pain Jackson has put here through over the years. He took a perfectly good wife and mother and damaged her mental well-being. Anya is too good of a person to cheat on someone simply because she fell out of love with someone--there was a good reason for it.

This was a secret she wanted me to hold onto but I wouldn’t be here if she never told me about Jackson’s gross infidelities. I told her I would not protect him and would defend myself if nobody else would, especially when he clearly knows who I am. She told Jackson we were “just friends”, and I really trusted her love to be with me, not to ever deny me. That’s why I lost trust in her, we began to argue and one of the reasons why our relationship went south. If there was no situation, she never referred her relationship with Jackson as a marriage, trust would not be an issue between us—the situation clouds my vision. I love her and miss her very much and I always will.

Thanks for reading. Take care.

Landyn

The next morning, Carolyn and Debbie informed Anya of my emails, bringing her silence to an astonishing halt.

ANYA: “I just saw the FB. I can’t believe how much you’re hurting me out of malice. I wanted to talk to you this week but I don’t think that is possible now. You’ve said it all. You’ve done enough. I don’t think I could ever hurt you or your friends or your family on purpose. After all we’ve been thru…I will forever suffer. I’ve lost my will. Goodbye my Landyn. I continue to pray for your sweet mom. I’m not a bad person Landyn.”

Anya’s broken text would’ve broken me down in the past, but when she went silent instead of taking me to school, it only confirmed she used me. She claimed to not be a bad person, but did good people do those things to good people? Did she not think telling me that our love, all I fought for and lost fighting for her, betrayed her kids was something she shouldn’t apologize to me for? She loved me but still passed her sentence when she said “don’t classify me with the general public”. Why didn’t she tell me that when we met so I could still have a chance at a family of my own? There was no girl out there for me, Anya was all that was left for me. She didn’t understand all she took from me by not defending our love, instead choosing to look at it as the killer of children. Could there be something I’m missing? There very well could be, but each time I gave her that opportunity, she made me feel like a monster. Love went to bat for people and she had no plans of even stepping into the batter’s box since the day I met her. I felt betrayed when her words and actions didn’t match up. Anya’s love for me forever a noun, and never a verb.

ME: “You left me and I trusted you not to do that. To leave me hurting. I trusted you.”

ME: “I trusted in your love, but all you’ve done is ignore me and pretend I never existed. I’m the only one here who is truly suffering.”

ME: “I would never do that to you, but I guess it’s ok to do that to me.”

ME: “You’ve ignored me all week and this weekend. You had your chance to make things right and it took an email to Debbie and Carolyn to get you to finally contact me after all my messages?”

ME: “I’m giving you a chance to have love again and make things right. We’ll see if you choose a life of honesty and love or a fake phony life instead.”

ME: “If you think wanting and doing things to be with you is hurting you, or malice, after all we’ve been through, how can I trust you?”

ME: “You love yourself much more than you love me, if you do anymore at all. If you loved me like you say you do then I think you would’ve at least tried to see me. We’re going to see if I was your life or “everything”. We’ll see.”

ME: “I guess I’ll consider everything you’ve ever done to me malice too then. Thanks for that.”

I didn’t send that email to her friends believing she wouldn’t find out about it, but I thought she'd at least view it as coming from a man who loved her. That it was written to defend and protect us both, not just myself. Anya owed the truth to them, especially if they’re giving her advice without knowing all the facts. When she didn’t tell them the truth, I felt like a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. After all I’ve lost and endured for, Anya needed to be honest about the reasons we were together. Carolyn even advised Anya to work on her marriage over a year ago—would she feel that way if she knew the truth about Jackson? Anya gave me a ton of gifts but they didn’t mean much if I could never unwrap them. I could see her being upset what I wrote to them, it probably sucked for them to know she kept that from them, but knowing Anya, she’d likely tell them I was lying about Jackson’s philandering.

ANYA: “We’re not together cuz you broke the trust I had in you. I trusted you. Why don’t you read everything and tell me how many times I purposely hurt you. Do you think after all you’ve done to hurt me that I could even go back to you? You hurt me so bad last week I told you I was cut up and couldn’t move. Did you want praise from me for your hurtful messages? You couldn’t even give me time to recover from your nasty messages? Do you think I had a step by step handbook to fuck up our lives? Do you think this is only my fault? It really doesn’t matter what I say. I had so much to say to you but it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if I were to be single I couldn’t go to you. You’re demonstrating behaviors I just couldn’t trust. I thought maybe, just maybe, but now I know you will continue to hurt me. I still think you’re a noble person and I think you should think about what you’ve done and what you’re doing. Goodbye.”

Why would she think I wanted praise for my hurtful messages? I wanted her to prove me wrong about every single one of them. Instead, her silence verified their validity and reasonableness. Did she believe she was too entitled to be subjected to criticism because she had kids? Did she think her misrepresentations to me shouldn’t have affected me after they destroyed me? After encouraging and allowing me to fall in love with her, she basically believed I had no right to my feelings—she told me she was married in the beginning. If she wanted to pull out the marriage card, then she should’ve never let me feel so damn much for her. Since she believed she was god’s gift to men, another misrepresentation in the beginning, not being able to help it was supposed to be appreciated—I should’ve felt like the luckiest man on earth making a woman of her great beauty not being able to help falling for me. Unfortunately I’d learn, her narcissism blocked any goodness she may have had from telling herself you don’t love someone, allow them to greatly care for you, then give yourself to someone else. If Anya had not fallen in love with me, then I had no right to feel this way. But I simply trusted her to know what love was, and that it didn’t betray her kids or see herself as a statistic. More than anything, I trusted her not to allow me into a situation just to turn me into a homewrecker. At the very least, since they enabled us to see each other, I expected her to tell Carolyn and Debbie the truth about why I was in her life.

She may have not liked what she had to hear from me, but she never had to second guess how I felt. She owed me the truth, not to protect me from it—I wasn’t a child of hers. If she wanted me to let her go, and I had no right to fight for love, then tell me the truth about everything. Love wouldn’t have allowed me to feel all the things I did, or to question anything. She demanded I understand her situation or else, but made no effort to understand mine, because if she did, at least a promise would’ve been made. If that wasn’t possible, then the truth why it never did. Instead, she hid behind the façade of her marriage to hurt me and I planned to tear it down so she could never do this kind of thing to another man again. I didn’t want praise for my hurtful messages, but the fact she could sit on them without acknowledging them or apologizing for the reasons why I felt that way, was enough for me to believe she didn’t care how I felt. Anya was a politician and a salesman—just like her sleazy husband. It’s how she dealt with problems. She left a hook out there, telling me I was a noble person and there was still a chance, but she always told me this to control me. That’s all Anya was about—control. If the relationship wasn’t all about her and on her terms then get lost. My messages were me telling her that I mattered too. That she didn’t get to go around and punish people for the things her husband did. I still loved her. I still cared for her. Those things just wouldn’t change for a long time to come, if ever. I still held hoped she would prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to deny what my gut told me. I couldn’t ask her to be honest with me then turn around and be dishonest with myself. If she thought I enjoyed any of this I didn’t. It broke my heart to see things the way they really were. I cared about her feelings, but I was so overwhelmed with grief that I couldn’t feel her pain anymore, only my own.

ME: “Did you read any of my messages at all? I was only reacting to you hurting me. What don’t you get about that? Whether intentional or not, hurt is hurt. I don’t trust you. It’s comical. You’re the one who spins it on its own head. After all we’ve shared you still chose to have sex with a man you told me cheated on you and that you don’t trust, yet you can’t trust me? Then you share the lives of your kids with me and tell me it would hurt them if we were together after I had already fallen for you? WTF? And you can’t trust me? If you would do anything for your kids and you’re this mother who makes sacrifices, the why didn’t you just resolve your anger and work on the marriage instead of making me feel bad for breaking your heart after I walked away from you? You make no sense. Go ask any of the friends I’ve had for over 30 years if they can’t trust me. Here’s the problem. Every day I make a choice to be an honest person in life, and you continue to choose not to. Don’t ever trust me or expect me to lie to anyone or act dishonestly. I did that for you for almost 2 years and all I watched you do is disrespect me by intentionally sitting on the fence the entire time.”

ME: “Outside of your lying, phony, money hungry, using religion to make a buck world, you can trust me with anything. Step into a life of truth first before you accuse me of not being trustworthy. How would you know anything about trust when you’ve never dared to live an honest life?”

ANYA: “I guess we’re not hearing each other.”

ME: “I gave you a chance. You misled, used and played me by not making any kind of promise to be with me. It’s simple arithmetic like 1, 2 and 3.”

ME: “If you love me, you’re with me. Not making excuses not to be.”

ME: “You did almost the exact same thing my ex did, but you were in love with me. Go figure.”

ANYA: “What I say doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t hear me. I’m putting my fone away b/c I’m very hurt. Please don’t message me.”

I wanted to be merciful, but all I could see were the politics she played with my heart to get what she needed from me. There was no doubt she had a lot to keep from me. It all felt surreal—like it wasn’t even happening. I knew this would be our last argument—there would be no coming back from this. Her love for me only existed on conditions—more than I already knew.

ME: “You told me you were cut up and “couldn’t move”. How many times did you move to have sex with your husband over the last few days since I sent you the messages? But you would never do anything to purposely hurt me, right?”

ME: “You and him are perfect for each other. You both are dishonest and do nothing but lie. You both care about your image and business more than doing the right thing. You both have worked so hard to burnout your kids so they don’t suspect anything is wrong there so please don’t let me ruin the life you decided for them—please stay together. Don’t even think about leaving your marriage and go out to meet some other guy who you can blame for hurting you when you mislead him into believing you want to wear his ring too. Please forgive me for ever taking you away from working for him and doing all his side of the parenting. He’s a great provider so unfaithfulness and disrespect doesn’t matter. He’s even worthy of defending to your friends and everyone else you encounter, at least you have respect for them since they add monetary value to your life. Have a good day.”

ME: “When you know something about truth and trust then I’ll listen. You chose to stay with a man you don’t trust—that sure makes a ton of sense. I promise, you’re going to find out what the truth is and means very soon.”

Anya’s “don’t classify me with the general public” statement in regards to divorce, gave me something to grasp—like she often did with me. It was beyond easy for her to prove me wrong, but just like her intentions to leave, she would never dare to try. Anya used my ignorance to her situation at home to hide the truth from me, but I was now on the cusp of learning all I ever feared—my worst nightmare.

ANYA: “Only if your mom, dad, bro and your sister knew what you were doing. But guess what? I would never contact them or FB them cuz you know why? I can’t do that to you.”

I didn’t know what she hid from Carolyn and Debbie, but it had to be pretty significant if my email bothered her that much. I trusted her to be honest with them about the reasons why I chose to be in her life—after I walked away because she was married. I trusted her not to pretend her and Jackson were happily married after all she told me about him. I trusted her to protect me—never allowing me to feel anything for her if she was spinning a completely different tale to others. I trusted her to never pursue a relationship with me if the decision to be with me was up to other people, or her perception of the general public. I especially trusted her to never allow Carolyn and Debbie to enable her if the façade of the marriage to them and all those around her was more important than her love for me. I trusted her to never play the “kid” card without telling me the truth why she was still married to someone who was grossly unfaithful. She owed me the truth about everything in the beginning, instead she chose to mislead just to feed her ego and to feel alive again because she believed she was entitled to. And if things went wrong, she’d just lean back on her mentally ill husband for help if I failed to fall in line. It became clearly apparent the only reason she told me she was married was because Mitch forced her to show me her ring—she never volunteered that information on her own. She had no problem omitting all the things I needed to know—that caused me a tremendous amount of pain. If she loved me that much, enough to hide things from me so I’d give her a chance, then she owed it to me to take it with both hands and never look back.

ANYA: “There you go with threats again. You can hurt me over and over out of malice. I will never do that to you.”

ME: “I don’t support a marriage that’s ruined a marriage and have hurt two men. Who’s next?”

ANYA: “Stop harassing me.”

ME: “Whatever. You’re such a drama queen. When a company pollutes the environment, it is exposed then shutdown.”

ANYA: “I’m going to call the police if you don’t stop harassing me.”

It was ridiculous enough she considered this harassment. If this was “harassment”, arguing with someone, then we were lost forever as a society—I definitely no longer wanted to be a part of this world. The only person harassed in our relationship was me when she misrepresented her entire situation to deceive me into entering a relationship with her. She harassed me the minute she approached me at Sonomas, if she considered our conversation harassing. She instigated my feelings, and I had a right to defend myself when she refused to.

When she followed that up with wanting to call the police on me, for arguing and from seeking the truth she felt entitled to deny me, she had completely gone off the rails.

ME: “Go ahead and tell them. I could care less. I’ll give you their phone number. I’m glad the girls got my emails. You still have some more learning to do though, but like you told me, I hope to God you turn this into a positive thing in your life and not a negative.”

ANYA: “I don’t need their numbers I have people!!!”

She had people—Jackson’s people. This side of Anya was one I wouldn’t have believed existed—even as I believed she played me for fool. Her politics were not working for her anymore and since she didn’t want to heed her own heartless advice, she played a card she always had at her disposal. She intentionally hurt my life, allowing and encouraging me to fall in love with her, leaving my heart’s decision in the hands of others instead of her own. After having to seek professional help, and losing a half a million dollar a year career promotion, she now decided to drive the knife through the middle of my chest—as I were a vampire. Her “I have people” threat would carry only lies about me—while making Jackson look like the victim only angering me even more. I had all the proof in the world Anya never cared about me—she lied so I’d never lose it, but now, there was no stopping it—I had nothing more to lose.

ME: “You have people? What does that mean? Go ahead and call the police. I’ll give them your bra to give back to you. That’s all you do is hurt people.”

ANYA: “Yes I will! You have no grounds! Wow they will tease you for “broken heart”. Boo hoo. Now stop being so immature! What is wrong with you? You want to expose your family to all this and hurt more people? People you love? Why? Just give it a rest!”

To say I had “no grounds” after all we shared and all I felt for her was like being shot in the face. For her to even suggest that others would tease me about having a “broken heart”, and adding a “Boo Hoo” for good measure, told me all I needed to know about the woman I tried to save. I always felt she discounted all I ever felt, even trivializing it, but after she poked fun of the pain she caused me and after all I lost believing her broken heart was real—I knew I’d never trust another woman again. This statement was the nail in love’s coffin. Having my broken heart belittled was my reward for caring about hers. Little did I know when we met that she would not only break my heart, but shatter it beyond repair—without blinking an eye. This was the very moment, although I still refused to fully accept it, when I learned the girl I loved so much, never truly loved me. I now knew a promise would’ve never been made to me—she needed to know what love was and she remained as clueless as her husband was—and all of her friends and all the “people” she had. Those people must have been the same people that she would’ve allowed to harm me if I did what any normal person who was loved by someone would be allowed to do. They were part of the battlefield she and Jackson had constructed for moments like this—when the shit they took on the lives of others who cared about them went sideways. Her words only further confirmed the marine green bridge near my home would be my only salvation from this truly horrific life.

ME: “That’s the real Anya right there--not caring who she hurts as long as she gets what she wants from people. I say bring them on—bring them all on. The police. All your people too. I’m not ashamed. You think I’m the immature one? Really? Am I married with two kids? Again, you make no sense. Get your people, I want to meet them. I want my voice heard.”

ME: “You know, it’s a sad thing to wake up one day and realize that maybe if I was a doctor or a famous songwriter or musician that I might be worthy of the person who loves me, wanting to be with me. I wanted Debbie and Carolyn to tell you about the emails I sent. I would never ask them to lie or be dishonest to a dear friend or best friend for me. The problem we are having is you met an honest man. If we were together that’s what you would get—all the trust in the world. I don’t think I could ever trust you though, especially if I ever heard the words “just friends”. I know for a fact if I hadn’t sent those emails I would’ve never heard back from you this week. Again, you will say anything to get the reaction or actions you want from people. Case in point, “I’ll call the police” or “I know people”. I’m not out to hurt people--just out to make things right. Yeah, officer we were having an argument, arrest me. I hope one day you truly fall in love with someone so you can understand how it feels when they ignore you. Like you told me, just turn all of this into a positive experience for you. Take care.”

I didn’t hear back from Anya, but didn’t think I would. What else was there left to say after she threatened me with her “people”? She took zero responsibility for any of the pain she caused me. Everything she ever hooked me with was a lie, and she only told me she loved me so I would always doubt myself if she hurt me. The night she told me her husband cheated on her, I told her no one who truly loved her would ever dream of jeopardizing losing that person by cheating on them. I wasn’t going to fool myself; I did it well for two years—Anya had betrayed me by staying in her marriage and allowing her kids to make an adult decision. I asked her what I needed to do for her to choose happiness and I did all those things, even being understanding when she need more time. She claimed I was impatient but my heart couldn’t take her sleeping next to Jackson anymore—she hid things that would have affected my decision to date her. At times I loved her for it and other times I hated her for it. She gave me a clusterfuck of emotions I was ill prepared to handle.

Sadly, I learned more about Anya’s love and respect for me over the last couple of hours than over the last twenty-two months. How calling the “police” could ever enter her mind was beyond outrageous and irrational to me—all because her lies were no longer working on me. If I had threatened her with bodily harm then I could understand her wanting to call the police, but how she considered people learning the truth about her marriage as harassment. If that was harassment, then telling me about it so I would pursue a relationship with her was intentional infliction of emotional distress if she planned to put me in harm’s way by not telling me the truth about her life—the people she knew and why she was really still wearing Jackson’s ring. It was especially harassing and abusive to love bomb me not because she loved me, but because she believed I would be easier to manipulate—she knew I’d question my sanity if I questioned her love. She called me her best friend, not because I was, but to further manipulate me into protecting the façade of her marriage—just like Lance did. Anya was a total politician—the worst kind and why politics interested her—she even married one. Playing politics is what she did. She built people up, got them on her team so they would be easier to control. It was a tactic I never saw coming—I believed in her love for me, but she read me the first night we met. She connected with me because she saw my weakness by sharing a weakness she concocted. When I failed to buy it, she called me to make a date to secure she would have me under control until she had no further use for me. I had no idea people, especially mothers, were capable of doing this to others. Anya left me both emotionally unstable and mentally crippled. I didn’t know how to feel—it wasn’t in my blood to feel hatred and contempt for someone I loved so much. I popped four Vicodin pills after she threatened me with “her people” to calm myself, as brain shivers hit reminding me of my failed Zoloft experiment. When Anya unexpectedly messaged me again, I knew my heart and mind were about to be skewered.

ANYA: “They are creeped out by you crossing the line and contacting them. Please put it to rest. I don’t want to play war. I’m not reading your messages so don’t reply.”

ME: “Sounds like to me someone was lying to them.”

ME: “Is there a single authentic honest bone in your body? You have my vote for actress of the year.”

ME: “Since you were so hurt by your husband cheating on your four times, enough to tell me all about it, I want everyone to know your sob story now. Boo Hoo.”

ANYA: “I hope you know I’m not reading your messages. You’re the biggest liar I know! They don’t care what you say. They just don’t want to hear from you, creepy guy!”

The biggest liar she knows? Even worse than the husband who cheated on her several times? To add insult to heartbreak, Anya decided to dig the knife in my back even deeper by defending Jackson–-intentionally choosing the word “creep” the way I used it to describe the man she chose to marry who stalked me on Facebook. When I called him a “creep, it was a test to see how she truly felt about him, and she bit down hard on the hook I put into the word. There was no doubt Anya believed a creep was any man who believed love was realistic—there was no man creepier than me to her. The man who broke his vows to honor her was not the creep—it was the man who never promised to honor her but did it anyway. The more Anya texted me, the more I learned about her “love” for me—that it only existed in her mind. As if breaking my heart wasn’t bad enough, she hit me with her best shot yet.

ANYA: “Maybe I should tell your mom and your sis how immoral you are! How many times did I try to tell you it’s not right and I’m hurting my kids! You wouldn’t let me go! I’m married!”

After she had the audacity to send me this message, there would be no return message from me; only a phone call. A phone call she never dared to answer, but I made sure she got the message by leaving one on her voicemail.

“I am so sorry, Anya.” I said, my voice and hand shaking. “I should’ve recognized you were married and said “no” when you asked me if you could put your lips on my penis in San Diego. Now, you’re gonna play the “I’m married” card after playing “the kids” card with me too? Could you please explain how I ever broke your heart? If you remember, a married woman actually had the audacity to tell me I broke her heart—imagine that. I knew you wouldn’t answer the phone—you’re a coward. How dare you tell me “I’m married” and “immoral” after allowing and encouraging me to fall deeply in love with you! How dare you!”

Anya’s message claiming “I’m married”, left me beyond livid with her. It was a good idea she didn’t pick up the phone—I would’ve lit into her for telling me that. She went from claiming “harassment” to threatening to call “the police” to “I’m married” told me more than I wanted to know about her. To find out not only did she lie to me, but learning she didn’t love me too was beyond horrific. This day was no different than the moment a seven-mile-wide meteor slammed into the Yucatan Peninsula 66 million years ago—my life was over. For Anya to say “I’m married” was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever read from her. Whoever sent me that message, couldn’t have been Anya—I had no idea who this person was—in fact, I never knew her at all. This was the moment Anya had become a Sith lord. She was officially gone from my life forever. She took no responsibility for anything, love bombing me with the hope I’d take the blame for everything when things didn’t work out. She only shared the lives of her kids with me not to make me feel special or to have me know them one day, but to protect them. To always leave me second guessing myself, even when I was right about why a promise never came my way. She conveniently forgot, that I left her because she was married—but she found it more important to blame me for breaking her heart instead of telling me I did the right thing. Anya’s goal from day one was to destroy me—by recklessly loving me without knowing what love was. If trouble arose, after realizing she used me, she would just summon the people she knew and conspire against me with her husband—relying on his power and influence to harm me. Love never mattered to Anya, and her husband’s infidelities never mattered as well—she could live her life as a single or married person if she wanted to. At this point in time, I couldn’t even defend Anya as being a good person—she was no better than Jackson. What was even tougher was learning that she was made more for him than she was for me. Little did I know, the complete annihilation of my life, for the crime of caring for someone’s happiness more than my own, was about to take place when she returned my call.

“Please be my friend.” she cried. “I beg you.”

“Everything in your life that was in place when we met, are still in place today.” I replied with a raspy voice and a trembling hand. “After all we’ve shared, you’re relegating me to the friend zone? I couldn’t be your friend—I’d be disingenuous because I’d always want more. I wouldn’t make a good friend. This is just a bunch of politics you’re playing here at this point. We’re not on the same page anymore, and it seems like we never were.”

“Politics?” she responded incredulously. “Is that what you think this is? I was just telling Carolyn about my ashes last week.”

“You know I wanted you, Anya. Not your ashes.” I replied. “Don’t confuse your kids.”

“He would never allow it to happen.” she blurted.

“He would never allow what? He’d never allow what to happen?” I asked, my voice trembling. “He controls you? Are you his possession? What kind of power does he have if he’s cheated on you multiples times for sex? You’re in love with me, right? What could be more powerful than your love for me?”

I could tell she spoke to herself in silence, and I couldn’t stop; so unsettled by another significant thing that she should’ve been honest about in the very beginning. That not only would she need permission from her kids to be with the man she loved, but her philandering husband’s as well.

“If he would never allow us to happen, then the day he knew or suspected about us—the day he stalked me on Facebook was the day that ended us? Is that why you’re way ahead of me in the grieving process? You knew what I didn’t? I don’t get this at all. What power does he have over you choosing to be with me at all? Shouldn’t he respect your wishes like I have to?”

“He won’t allow it to happen. I know him.” she said. “He wouldn’t allow it.”

Anya’s didn’t seem to know men—especially men in love. She didn’t seem to understand telling another man that another man wouldn’t allow something was akin to a declaration of war. When I told her I’d take a bullet for her, I meant it. I planned to kill myself at this point anyway if I lost her, so taking Jackson with me now appeared to be an option.

“Sounds like women don’t change their minds after all, do they Anya?” I retorted. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go to Jackson and beg for his friendship and see how well that goes with him? Out of all the men out there, that would’ve just wanted a piece of ass and not given you pressure, why did you choose me? Do you really think I want to be with you now after all the things you’ve hidden from me when we first met? Why didn’t you just work on your marriage if you’d sacrifice anything for your kids? If he wouldn’t allow you to be with me, then why the fuck did you lead me to believe you had the power to make the decision to be with me? It seems like you’re more willing to fuck over good people in this world instead of resolving your anger. Essentially, you took the anger reserved for the creep you married out on me. I wish I could be your friend, but you made me your lover. I’ve never felt more used in my life.”

“I know you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I had so many things I want to tell you” She cried. “I beg you to reconsider a friendship.”

This was another one of those moments in a lifetime I wish I could’ve grasped. One of those moments when I met her in San Francisco that may alter the course of my history. The problem was, I was so distraught with emotions, I could no longer seize it and would always wonder that those many things she had to say were. I just couldn’t see past the next massively corrupt act she planned to commit against my belief in love.

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“I can’t do it.” I replied, giving her a taste of her own medicine. “I’ve come too far to feel so much, and still unable to get a promise from you. For some reason, after two years with a man who lost everything for you, you still had the audacity to equate doing the right thing by leaving your marriage to hurting your kids. I wish I could turn off these feelings and be your friend, but you betrayed me, Anya. You’ve played a wicked game with my emotions—even admonishing me for feeling them. I found out today you’re no better than your husband, and astonishingly, you may be even worse. You guys are perfect for each other. In fact, I think I owe him an apology. She’s all yours.”

“I have to go, Landyn.” she replied, seemingly ignoring my words. “I don’t understand why you feel you need to tell him anything if I’m going to stay. Do what you must. I will always love you.”

“I plan on it.” I told her. “And there’s only one person who will always love someone here, and that person is me. Good bye.”

When I hung up the phone, I knew what I had to do next—confront the man who would never allow it. The man she planned to, if not already, conspire against me with. Still, her kids came into my head, likely the only reason why she ever told me about them—she knew she intentionally misrepresented her situation to me. If I felt betrayed by it, I’d have second thoughts of hurting her kids if she shared their lives with me. Katie and Andrew were the only two reasons why I hesitated confronting Jackson—I knew it wouldn’t end well for him and for me. I didn’t want to be known as the man who killed or hurt their father. If cancer didn’t kill my mom, her son intentionally killing another man would—she didn’t raise that kind of man. Sure, I struggled with my belief in God, but she instilled enough of Him in me to worry about breaking the most damning of the ten commandments. On the other hand, maybe it would teach their kids a valuable lesson—one their parents could never teach them? To live an honest life and to stay faithful to your spouse.

Anya suddenly morphed into a woman who protected her marriage—securing the nail in the chance of ever being friends coffin. If she was so proud of her marriage and about the ring on her finger, she misrepresented her entire situation to me just for fun. To learn Anya was not the honest genuine person I thought she wanted to be just wrecked me beyond all understanding. Like the business owner she was, she sold me on her sorrow, and after I bought it, she raised the daily price on me—a cost she knew I would struggle to afford. She infected me by selling me that she believed in our love, manifesting it into the worst of all addictions, then leaving me to suffer the most acute withdrawal symptoms imaginable all alone.

After we got off the phone, she tried vehemently to save our friendship, but my decision was already made—this relationship was now on my terms too.

ANYA: “U ok? I’m glad we talked. I think you’re right that I should tell him. The girls are pissed that I’m being forced. Maybe it will help my marriage.”

After she hit me with the reason why I walked away from her at the bar, I once again emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. If working on her marriage was ever on the table, she truly betrayed me. If she ever loved me, our relationship should’ve only proven after the first one she had, that her marriage was the problem—that feeding cancer with more cancer was never a good idea. To read half the things I did today from her, made me feel as if I had been in bed with the devil the entire time. And just like that, after nearly two years of the greatest love I’d ever known, Anya’s beauty committed suicide.

ANYA: “I know he will blow up but I don’t think I have a choice.”

After reading this, I now knew she had no real thoughts of ever telling her husband about us—she feared him too much than to ever do the right thing. It almost seemed as if he had never cheated on her at all. The more Anya texted me, the more my fate was sealed.

ANYA: “I really wanted us to be friends forever. Wouldn’t it be great if one day we could have lunch as friends and just laugh? No more hatred and anger?”

I wanted to hear “wouldn’t be great if we were married one day” not if we could have lunch as “friends”. I wanted to hear she wanted to wear my ring—I could’ve been a friend if I wasn’t lied to about her life in the beginning. The last thing Anya appeared to be was a friend of any kind. As long as I remained a secret, I was a special man, but without that, she had more respect for a pile of shit. The truth was that without her marriage, she would’ve chosen another man, not me—that was the reality of the situation. Her messages were sweet if we had never shared a thing together, but after reading this, she couldn’t have truly been in love with me—only in love with herself. To send me a text like this after all we’ve shared only proved to me that she was never a friend. No friend would ever allow someone to love them deeply knowing they would end up hurting them badly in the end. She knew the entire time that she was going to intentionally break my heart because the decisions she led me to believe would be made by her would not be her decisions to make. At this point, it seemed even Katie was more mature than she was.

ANYA: “I apologize from the bottom of my heart for all the pain I’ve caused you. I never meant to hurt you. It’s me. I’m sorry.”

Anya only said and did things that served herself, or some other hidden purpose. She had morphed from a sweet angel into the darkest of all demons. I had to go through an entire meltdown in order for an apology I deserved long ago to reach me—another shining example of her politics. And maybe she didn’t intend to hurt me, but she took me on a ride that she knew led to nowhere. She did try to tell me, but she had already made the mistake of allowing and encouraging me to fall deeply in love with her. Men in love were going to fight for the women they loved—especially believing they felt the same for them. She could question my manhood, but she had to understand I was the only real man she had ever known—I’d never dream of cheating on her or making her feel guilty about breaking up a family after I wronged her like her husband did.

If she planned to stay in her marriage, after all she put me through with her misrepresentations, it would be under the light of the truth and no longer under a cloud of deception. She could stay in her marriage, but the façade was coming down. Since her love only led me into a lion’s den, without nothing to lose, I had to protect myself at all costs. While I fought to be with her, she fought to keep her secret alive. For a woman to tell me she loved me forever to take such a dramatic turn forced me into survival mode. What she saw as malice, I saw as justice. To allow and encourage someone to fall deeply in love with her, knowing the decision to be with me would be in the hands of people who would never allow it, was where the true malice lied. All I wanted from her was the truth—to let me know she had no plans to join the general public and becoming a divorce statistic. She should’ve defended her wonderful husband in the beginning so I could’ve been on my merry way instead of clandestinely recruiting me to be a part of the façade and for marriage support. Without a doubt, Anya had misled me the entire way, using something I always believed in that she never did, love, to manipulate my actions. Anya was nothing more than a desperate housewife—who had her sex life altered because of kids and stress—like any other marriage did. Without ever being married, she pounced on my naivety and knowingly used me to fill the void her bedroom wouldn’t allow the room for. Her only care wasn’t feeling love again, but feeling pleasure again. When the plan backfired on her, and I started to make my own conclusions, she ran—just like she did the night I asked her if she still slept with her husband—she knew she planned to betray me. Anya didn’t want to be my friend, she wanted to control me from ratting her out when I learned the truth. By wanting to be “friends forever” she tried to keep the relationship on her terms—and out of fear not love. What Anya called love was really just damage control—and that burned me as much as anything. The same woman who wanted to wear my ring, who loved me more than ever just two months ago now wanted to be “friends forever”— the price I paid for showing kindness, compassion and understanding.

I would be single for a very long time after this. I would never love anyone, the way one should love someone, ever again. She took my belief in love with her. She had no right to ever tell me she hoped, wished and dreamt of being with me if she would follow her husband’s orders and never allow herself to be in my arms. When she told me he wouldn’t have allowed her to be with me, it only confirmed whatever she felt for me wasn’t strong enough to be love. If I didn’t feel so betrayed by it all—I would’ve just walked away. Why would she ask me to fight for her knowing she’d leave the decision to be with me in the hands of her husband and kids who would never allow it? Who did this kind of thing to people?

Since Anya left me to die, the only thing I had for protection was the truth. I warned Anya from the very beginning that I was a different kind of man. I wasn’t perfect by any means, but I believed in love—knowing through heartbreak what it was and what it wasn’t. Yes, I’m “boo hoo” ing over a broken heart, but that was because she broke my soul too. Her rationale for “loving” me was that she “couldn’t help it” she’d tell me. If she expected me to understand that’s all it was then she shouldn’t have a problem understanding how I couldn’t help it now either. Of course, she’d twist that and accuse me of using her words against her, but it’s in essence the same thing—I didn’t appreciate her not helping it if she planned to break my heart and she clearly did from day one—that’s why she tried to let me go. The problem was with her forward-thinking strategy was that she allowed and encouraged me to fall deeply in love with her knowing the decision would never be hers to make—that our hopes had to end if Jackson were to ever learn of it. After I walked away from her because of this fear—she still allowed and encouraged me to fall deeply in love with her—I just couldn’t believe she would do something like that to anyone, especially me. That’s the kind of thing you do to someone who has wronged you in life, but she decided to punish me for Jackson’s multiple transgressions.

Anya could’ve trust me with any secret she had, but not the one she used to judge me for having emotions after learning she didn’t tell me the truth at the very beginning of our relationship. She had the type of marriage that full disclosure was necessary to anyone she allowed and encouraged into her life the manner in which I was. I shouldn’t have had to ask about her still sleeping with her husband, she should’ve disclosed that in the beginning, especially knowing she would follow his marching orders and never leave him. Passing a test only 17% of people passed the first time they took it wasn’t even nearly as hard as messaging Anya all the things I did—knowing all I ever believed in was on the line just to learn that she only loved herself. After all the bed ridden days and nights imagining the worst-case scenarios while she socialized to protect the façade of her marriage, she referred to me as the “creepy guy” in defense of the true creep she married and had kids with. All to protect a marriage she claimed did not exist—a marriage that should be stricken from the record.

I wasn’t the type to go after people, but I was the type to defend myself—I’d take my own life before harming anyone—even those who purposely harmed me. After I gave her the same silent treatment she gave me that inspired my email to Carolyn and Debbie, I prepared myself for her next betrayal. She had already played several cards and when the next day arrived, I knew she would do all she could to protect her lies—conspiring with the man who dishonored her several times for the man who did all he could to honor her just to be betrayed.

I know her kids mattered to her, and I respected that. I truly put them above me in all aspects, but Anya couldn’t continue to give people tragic endings. Here was an opportunity to teach her kids one of the greatest lessons they could ever learn in life but doing the right thing was never on her agenda.

Her madness started with a text she sent to me at eight forty-six in the morning, coincidentally, the same time I was born but in the evening. Little did I know it marked the beginning of the end of my life.

ANYA: “It got really ugly. I’m really scared. Our neighbor, a police official was notified and given all your information. Our lawyer was notified for stalking and harassment.”

On the morning of October 6th, 2009, if I had any lingering doubts if I was betrayed or not, her text eliminated all of them. The woman who less than two months ago told me “I love you more than ever”, now showed me what those words truly meant to her. When I read “our” in reference to her neighbor and lawyer, I had never been so mad at another human being. The woman who I trusted to be honest turned out to be the most dishonest person I’d ever come to know. A woman who shared the lives of her children with me, even inviting me to her daughter’s recital, who I was there for anytime she needed me, who I lost a career job for fighting for, who I became clinically depressed over, using Zoloft and Vicodin to cope with all the pain, went for the kill after she had already shot me in the face with all she told me the day earlier.

ME: “Please explain. I don’t understand why.”

ANYA: “Anybody who knows (friends and family) will be brought into report. The girls were forced to produce a hard copy of fb last night.”

ME: “Report? Report what? Did you tell him about us?”

ANYA: “Anything that is sent from you will be turned over to the official for recording then over to the lawyer. They will trace everything.”

ME: “Did you tell him?”

ANYA: “Yes I had to. They are installing a chip in my fone this afternoon. Landyn, I’m so scared. Idk what to do. They are out for blood. I was so scared. I haven’t slept. I’m a mess.”

ME: “Out for blood? What r u talking about? I’m lost. What did you say to him? What happened? Just fill me in. Thanks.”

ANYA: “My body is shaking so badly. I can’t stop. My kids…”

What did she tell Jackson? Did she tell him she was in love with me? If she did, what would it be necessary to install a chip in her phone? What would be sent to their lawyer and what would be recorded and traced? The fact that I wanted her to be honest with him about her love for me? To be honest with their kids? Or did she tell him something completely different like he plans to tell the kids about us? That I was going after their kids? The last thing I would ever do.

ME: “So you told him you’re in love with me?”

ANYA: “Yes. Doesn’t matter. He said you could tell him we slept together every day for 2 years and it wouldn’t matter. Going after everything. Computer guy is here.”

He would be just fine with her being in love with me after having a sexual relationship with me? Something seemed out of place here. Going after everything? How could I be stalking and harassing someone who was in love with me? None of this made sense—she lied to him about me and about us. When I thought she had already did the worst thing possible to another human being, she topped herself.

ME: “R u kidding? This is my moment to shine! This is the best news I’ve ever gotten!

ANYA: “Be careful. I need to say goodbye. I wish you and your family well. I’m sorry.”

She may have told him that she loved me, but it seemed to come with a disclaimer—he plans to tell the kids about us. This was the only logical explanation how “stalking and harassment” could ever be considered—the first case of its kind that a woman who loved a man claimed he was stalking and harassing her. Anya went shining on me when she decided to lie to her husband about reaching out to her kids about us—the greatest lie ever told by the greatest liar on the planet earth,

ME: “I’ll be sure to keep them busy. I would hate to see all this time and effort wasted.”

ANYA: “I have to forward everything. Sorry.”

Anya was just as sorry as a crocodile who teared up while eating its prey. For twenty two months, that’s all she ever communicated to me through—the tears of a crocodile.

ME: “Should I forward the stuff you gave me too?”

ME: “Tell his lawyer and the cop official to contact me so I can give them a detailed report.”

ME: “Nothing I wrote was untrue. I’m safe unless you lied to me.”

ANYA: “You can but it will only be recorded and traced and used for the case building. Harassment. I’m only trying to protect you. You have to go now.”

Well, at least she acknowledged this case she was attempting to build didn’t include stalking. The last thing Anya ever did was anything to protect or defend me, but she went out of her way to defend and protect herself. And if I ever felt she protected, defended or vouched for me, we wouldn’t have been where we were now. If all of what she just told me was true, she couldn’t care less about me.

ME: “Could you also send a copy of the police report? I have proof this was with consent.”

ANYA: “You better stop. I asked you to stop harassing and the more you do, the more it’s being recorded.”

ME: “For the first time in history, when someone is called out for lying it’s somehow called harassment. Your sense of entitlement is now legendary. I really don’t care. I’m only armed with the truth. I’m harmless and you all know it.”

ANYA: “But they don’t care. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m so shaking.”

ME: “I want to meet my accuser face to face. Please arrange it—I want to meet these people.”

ANYA: “Believe me you don’t”

ME: “It sounds like you’re used to being “harassed” for this option to even be on the table for you. They probably have your names on file at the police station. I’m sure all I have to do is present prior history and they will know I’m dealing with 2 nutcases.”

ANYA: “Just let me go. This is what I want.”

ME: “Then I want to seek closure. That’s what I want. It’s not just about you anymore. You should’ve told me half the things I learned yesterday the night we met.”

ANYA: “You better stop. Come this afternoon I don’t need to forward your messages.”

ME: “Is that chip installed yet so I can send them all of the things you’ve texted me over the last two years?”

ME: “You and the girls really need to come up with a better scheme than this. Not fooled.”

ME: “I’m sure this is what you told him—I fell in love with him but I’m not in love with him anymore and when I wanted him to let me go because I was afraid it would hurt my kids, he wouldn’t let me. I told him I was married. That is such a lie. You call that love? Do you have the slightest idea what love is? I thought you grew and learned? You really had me fooled.”

ME: “Texting someone is not stalking or harassment. Sorry.”

ME: “I’m going to make sure, and I surely hope this is recorded, what kind of people you and him are. I’m going to expose the truth about both of you and our love. Guess what Caiaphas legal team? Guess what neighbor? It’s all true! I’m untouchable! Can’t get in trouble for the truth. 😊”

ANYA: “Just want you to know I’ve not been reading your texts. Been just forwarding. Going on record again, please stop texting and harassing me.”

For twenty-two months I trusted in her sadness and this was how she rewarded my compassion and empathy for her. All those nights she went to social gatherings leaving her children behind most of the time, while I endured lonely nights at home believing her hopes, wishes and dreams were real—this was what she believed I deserved. That fighting for her, something she asked of me, would be perceived as harassment and stalking in the end. Anya reserved the right to change her mind, but she had no right to exercise it to execute me. If this was another tragic ending, I was going to make sure it would be the last one she ever gave to someone.

ME: “Great! I have some more for you to forward but something tells me I doubt you will. If they are recording why do you have to forward anything?”

ME: “I am going to make a formal request for the plaintiffs to please provide me with the names of the couple whose marriage Jackson destroyed. I would like the name of the gentleman who Anya was previously engaged to that had to leave the state when she broke his heart. I would also like the name of Anya’s supposed “stalker” so I may contact him as well and to use as witnesses to the kind of person who is making these claims against me. I would also like to talk to Mr. Lance Palace to see how he feels too. Also, I would like to request the names of all the people who have been affected by Anya’s marriage. This is my official request and under law you are to provide me with this information so these individuals may be contacted and deposed or subpoenaed. Karma is a beautiful thing.”

ME: “I also want the “officials” who are out for blood to please know Jackson Caiaphas has cheated on his wife four times per Anya. Thanks!”

ME: “You forwarding these I hope? I want these texts received by my “accuser” on record. Thanks!”

ANYA: “Fourth time. Please stop texting me and harassing me.”

ME: “You told me you’re not reading them and just forwarding them so how can you be affected by something you’re not even reading?”

ANYA: “Fifth time. Please stop texting me and harassing me.”

ME: “Get ready for a lot more texts to forward on over. And don’t pretend to be scared or tell me that you’re shaking in your boots over there. You cheated on your “husband” for two years so that’s really good proof you’re not afraid of much. Here are some of the texts you’ve harassed me with over the last twenty-two months that allowed and encouraged me to be in the position I’m in right now. Please forward.”

ME: ““I don’t want you to leave me.””

ME: ““Thanks for hanging!””

ANYA: “Sixth time. Please stop texting me and harassing me.”

ME: ““I believe in our love.””

ME: ““I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do. I dream about being with you.””

ANYA: “Seventh time. Please don’t text me or harass me.”

ME: ““Thank you for being in my life. You always make me feel special. I love you.””

ANYA: “Eighth time. Please don’t contact me, text me, and harass me.”

ME: ““I’m flattered! I’m flattered you met with me just to see me knowing I couldn’t kiss you. You’re meeting me on Thursday just to see me without motive. You’ve shown me you care. Thanks!””

ANYA: “Ninth time. Please stop contacting, texting and harassing me.”

ME: ““I could say I love you all day long just wish I could announce it to the world.””

ANYA: “Tenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, harassing me.”

ME: ““Yes, you’re right. I’m surrounded by love everyday so I won’t cry you a river about how complicated my life is. But I long for our love.””

ME: ““Do you have to work tomorrow? If not, can I come and see you for an hour?””

ANYA: “Eleventh time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, harassing me.”

ME: ““I wish I was at “home” waiting for you. Have a goodnight baby. I love you.””

ME: ““I would rather die than never have you in my life.””

ME: “I guess I’m harassing you with your own words. I hope you know I’m just submitting evidence since you’re forwarding it to the authorities.”

ANYA: “Twelfth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “The true harassment lies in your texts to me. They should show how much you played with someone’s feelings. If anything, you should be arrested for harassment and stalking—you never had my consent to lie to me.”

ANYA: “Thirteenth time. Please stop contacting, texting, harassing me.”

ME: “I never threatened you with any harm other than to tell him the truth about us since you did nothing to defend or protect me. So, I had to protect and defend myself. That’s not harassment. It’s called self-defense and serves a legitimate purpose—you’ve put me in harm’s way by allowing and encouraging me to fall deeply in love with you when you left the decision to be with me in the hands of your husband and children.”

ANYA: “Fourteenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, harassing me.”

ME: “I have contacted my family and friends and they are all on my side. Just further evidence. My people are ready.”

ANYA: “Fifteenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “I also just contacted child protective services. I wanted to make sure the kids are ok there. I don’t trust the metal states of their parents who run around cheating on each other. I think they are hurting the kids.”

Of course, I didn’t contact child services or my family and friends—I just wanted to use the same tactics she used on me. With each message she sent, counting the times I contacted her, it only proved Anya accepted no responsibility for anything she ever did.

ANYA: “Sixteenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting, and harassing me.”

ME: “I’ve never threatened you with bodily harm. I’ve never called you names. Never raised my voice in anger. I’ve never followed or stalked you. I would never do any of these things. What grounds do you have? Why keep building a case you know you don’t have? I have nothing to lose anymore but you do. Your reputation and image will now be in the spotlight for all to see. This is the dumbest move you and him could ever make. The power lies in the truth about your marriage, not in your lies about me.”

ANYA: “Seventeenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “Isn’t contacting and texting the same thing? Ok, whatever. This is now the seventeenth time you’ve responded to my text. Please stop contacting, texting and harassing me. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.”

ANYA: “Eighteenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “I didn’t call child protective services. Just wanted you to know. I would never do that to you or them. Sorry for telling you that.”

ANYA: “Nineteenth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “All I ever wanted was to be with the one I love—the one who claimed she loves me too. Shouldn’t have been too much to ask for. It’s my only fault. Goodbye.”

As my life unraveled before my very eyes, I decided to go for a drive to get what just happened off of my mind. I didn’t know if she was serious or not, but I needed to take a step back regardless. This wasn’t all Anya’s fault—it was my fault for believing in something I knew I had no business believing in; love. After all my failures with women, I somehow found it in me to trust one I should’ve been beyond skeptical about. All the signs were there from the start too, even warned by a friend that she was a dishonest person, yet ignored all reason choosing to focus on her pain instead—a brokenness similar to mine. I thought her love would blind me to my own personal anguish enough to focus on hers, but her love was one for self, and not for me. I often time saw how women made bad choices in men by turning a blind eye toward their character if it brought them money and popularity. Anya pretended to be different, but she wasn’t. She even shared how much she respected men. She hurt someone who she was engaged to so badly, he felt compelled to leave the state. She then broke Lance’s heart, even referring to the ending of their relationship as “tragic”. Now, I guess it was my turn in line. To watch her choose me for heartbreak after having enough of them in my life left me more damaged than any one that fell before me. She first lovebombed then gaslighted me, and if that wasn’t a form of emotional abuse, I didn’t know what was. I still opted to blame Jackson for the monster he created in her, then again, it was her inability to cope with the rage within that broke the hearts of other men. What happened earlier however was only the tip of the iceberg—there existed much more peril below than what I could’ve ever imagined. By trusting Anya’s love for me, I had awakened the demons inside both her and Jackson. Anya was part of the group who were now out for blood because she believed being in love with a man who honored and respected her was an act of betraying her kids. She told me one time “In God’s name, I love you” but I was on the verge of learning God had nothing to do with our love.

The only place I could think of going during this great time of emotional despair was my mother’s house. On my way there, I got a call from an unknown number I believed to be my mother---she hid her caller ID from people she called from the house.

“Hey Mom.” I answered.

“Is this Landyn Lastman?” asked a husky voice.

“Yes, it is.”

“This is officer Doug McNulty calling on behalf of Mrs. Anya Caiaphas.” he stated. “She wants you to leave her alone and to stop contacting her, texting her and harassing her.”

“I don’t know what she’s told you, but I’m sure it’s not the truth.” I replied. “I’ve been in a relationship with her for the last two years—you can’t deny me my right to self defense and to an emotional response—I’ve never threatened her with violence.”

“Just leave her alone, Buddy. She wants nothing to do with you.” He scolded, adding fuel to an already burning fire.

“She claims she’s not even reading my texts and just forwarding them so how is she affected by them?” I retorted angrily. “Tell her to just delete them like she always does—she’s the one harassing me.”

“If you don’t stop, you will be arrested.”

“What’s your badge number, Officer?”

“You’re not entitled to that information—you’ve been warned.” He countered. “If you contact her again, a restraining order will be filed against you. You will be arrested and you will go to jail.”

“She is in no harm and she knows it. What’s your name, Officer? I’d like to call the station for verification” I asked again. “You’re violating my constitutional rights.”

“You’ve been warned.” he said before hanging up on me.

After I received the call, I immediately pulled over and texted Anya.

ME: “Ok Anya, your cop friend made a huge mistake. I’m heading to the courthouse right now to file restraining orders against you and your husband, including your cop friend for contacting me off duty. Do you want to keep playing this game or not?”

ANYA: “Twentieth time. Please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

After talking to what was likely a retired police officer who lived in their neighborhood, it seemed Jackson was trying to scare me into giving up. I wasn’t fully convinced Anya was behind any of this. She wouldn’t call the cops on me and was just playing along. She told me her husband would come after me if he knew—the time arrived to take it to him. If Anya wasn’t reading my texts and just forwarding them, then she likely forwarded them to Jackson. I then decided to tailor my messages for his reading pleasure.

ME: “I don’t think there’s any stopping the harassment charges now. This man cheats on the mother of his two children four times, hurting her so bad she fell out of love with him and in love with someone else who respected her feelings, who was always there for her and who he threatens with harassment and stalking charges. What have I done wrong but be there for someone in need—who wanted to feel like they were truly loved? Whatever is coming down upon me are only ridiculous charges for taking care of someone’s heart and making her happy. She came to me—I’m embedded in her heart forever. It doesn’t matter what you or anyone does to me. When she is with you, she wishes she was with me. She’s forever unhappy—happy? Is that what a marriage is nowadays? Imprisonment? Are women bought and treated like possessions? Whatever goes down, it doesn’t matter—I won. I’m in her heart forever no matter what.”

ME: “Hey you got me for harassment! Congrats! No matter what she tells you, she will always love me. Always. I could care less what comes down on my head. I believe in our love. She’ll find her way back to me one day.”

ME: “She knows what love and beauty is now and it’s all because of me—Landyn Lastman. Always remember that, Jackson. You may win the harassment case, on a legal technicality, but I have her heart. Good luck.”

Twenty minutes after I sent these texts, I pulled away from my impromptu parking spot and soon found myself in front of my mother in her room. Feeling frantically uneasy, as if a limb had just been severed from my body. I tried to give her the impression everything was fine. The problem was, she knew the man who stood before her was not the same man she knew over the last two years.

“What’s wrong?” she wondered, her hazel eyes looking into mine from behind her reading glasses.

“Nothing.” I replied noticing the few strands of gray hairs she had remaining on her head. “I’m fine.”

“How’s Anya?”

“She’s ok…she’s good.”

“Is something troubling you, Landy?”

“What makes you think that?” I snapped.

“Because I haven’t seen you around much the last few months.”

“Been busy tryin’ to find work, that’s all.” I replied, digging my hands deep into my jean pockets. “We’re in a recession right now, you know.”

“How are you and Anya?” she fished.

“We’ve had better days.” I broke.

“What do you mean?”

“You tell me.” I said, selecting one her messages and handing my phone over to her.

“Who’s sending you this stuff?” she wondered, a look of confusion breaking upon her face.

“Anya.”

“It sounds like she’s breaking up with you?”

“Yeah, well.” I said, unable to look at her. “I don’t know.”

“She loves you, right? Why would she do this?”

“We’ve been struggling lately and she’s afraid I’m going to tell her husband about our relationship.” I told her.

“Are you?”

“Of course not, but I gave her the impression I was going to.” I admitted. “He already knows who I am. I don’t understand why she just wouldn’t be honest with him at this point. I could understand if we were dating for only a few months but after two years?”

“I’m sorry, honey.” she said.

All I could do was nod my head—this was par for the course in my life. Eventually my heart would end up in a bloody mess. Of course, there was a lot more to the story than she knew, but I gave her the gist of it. My mother was the only friend I had left now. I hated to dump this on her while she was fighting cancer, but I had no one to turn to.

“Honey, you need to stop contacting her.” she instructed. “Regardless of who you think is doing this.”

“I know—I have.” I informed her. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t eat. Can’t sleep. I’m completely mentally and emotionally exhausted. I don’t have the right words to say to her anymore. How do I get through this? How come she can’t be honest and end her marriage? I was with her for nearly two years, not two months—and I’m the second guy here. How could this happen to me?”

“She had no right to date you without any intentions to be with you.”

“She promised me she would if I “swept” her off her feet. She told me the only reason she was still married to him was because she didn’t think a man would want to be with her because she had “baggage”. She even told me she was there because if she were to leave, no one would be there for her. I trusted all that was true.” I explained. “I wouldn’t get involved in the middle of anyone’s marriage unless I felt strongly the marriage was dead. The things she hit me with today...I just can't believe it.

My mother didn’t say a word, but I could tell she felt the heartache I did.

“I don’twant you to think she’s a bad person, mom. She doesn’t want to hurt her kids. That doesn’t make her a bad mother or person.” I continued. “I really think her husband is behind all of this. She told me he would never allow it.”

“He would never allow what?”

“He would never allow her to be with me—he’d never allow her to leave their marriage for me” I said. “For Anya to go along with this—he had to have threatened her.”

“What power would he have if she wanted to leave? Would he hit her?”

“I don’t think so. She told me he’s not violent, but she also told me he would blow up if he knew the truth about us.”

I guess all those years of running around on her while she was pregnant that caused a premature birth and even ruining the marriage of another man for good measure gave him what right to blow up at her? Because she wanted to be happy and happiness wasn’t possible with him? Jackson’s narcissism wasn’t only evident but legendary. If the kids ever learned about Anya and I, or even his past history of unfaithfulness, it would have been through him. I was with Anya for almost two years, not just for two weeks. What did he think we were doing the entire time? Playing patty cake? Did he perceive her love for me as just a malady? That after all he ever put her through made them even now? Why would Jackson choose to be with someone whose heart no longer belonged to him?

How could Anya choose to stay in a marriage, regardless of the kids, after all we’ve shared? How could she be dishonest enough to still lie next to him in bed? How could they be so dishonest to all the people around them? He would never allow what? To be humiliated after he humiliated his own wife? My heart wasn’t ready to accept she was the bad guy but rather the victim.

While I spoke to my mom in her room, a few hours after I had sent my text to Anya about her police official neighbor, I received a text from her and had to excuse myself from my mother’s room to read it.

ANYA: “I hope you know I’m not reading your messages. For the 21st time stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “I don’t know how they can be harassing—you can’t be affected by anything you’re not reading. At any rate, it doesn’t matter. I just hope you forwarded those messages too.”

ME: “I just want to let you know that you have nothing, and I do mean nothing, to be afraid of. Your kids are going to be fine. Just worried about you over there. You know me, Anya. You know what I’m about. If he does anything to hurt you, let me know. Take care.”

ANYA: “For the 23rd time please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me.”

ME: “It was actually the 22nd time, but who’s counting? I really hope you’re careful of him. He’s leading you down the wrong path. If there was ever a time not to trust him, now is the time.”

ANYA: “For the 24th time please stop contacting me, texting me and harassing me.”

ME: “You know this isn’t harassment, Anya. If this is harassment then all the texts you ever sent me were harassing in nature since you knew when we first met, he would never allow it and you’d go along with it—that you intentionally misled me. If all he’s ever done to you didn’t matter then you had no right telling me it did matter. What are you going to do? Sue me for him being a bad cheating disrespectful husband? Sue me for caring about you pain and sadness? Sue me for fighting for your happiness after you asked me to? Go right ahead.”

ANYA: “For the 25th time please stop contacting me, texting me and harassing me.”

ME: “My only crime was being a nice guy and opening my heart to someone. I had no idea that was criminal intent.”

ANYA: “For the 26th time please stop contacting me, texting me and harassing me.”

ME: “Do you understand why I left you the first time? Do you remember you were mad at me for letting you go even though you were “married”? That’s the truth. Your unhappiness is what hurt Katie. You’re fighting cancer cells with more cancer cells. You will see that not choosing happiness will only drive your kids away from you. Why live a fake life? Is that what he wants for the mother of his children? For her to be unhappy?”

ANYA: “For the 27th time please stop contacting me, texting me and harassing me. I hope you know I’m not reading your texts. I have no idea what you’re texting. Just forwarding.”

ME: “That’s good because I’m not making any threats and I know what you’re forwarding is for his reading pleasure.”

ME: “I know this is breaking your heart to do this to me. I know it. You know who truly loves you. I just want you to be truly happy again. You are not a trophy wife or someone’s employee.”

I guess she started to read my messages because she stopped forwarding them after I sent the last two to her. When I saw her name and number disappear from my Blackberry’s IM contacts—it broke me down. Reminding me of the loneliness I felt while sleeping on a cold hotel room floor in San Francisco after a heart crushing dinner. The times I went to the theater only to sit rows away from her. All the nights of heartache spent alone in my room after she had just left it hours earlier escaping back to her social life where she’d forget I even existed. I hated to think this way—but Anya knew what she planned to do from day one. I guess, unlike Lance, she thought I’d eventually just walk away—just another man that proved love was unrealistic.

As the reality of a life without her began to set in, I still refused to accept my phone would remain permanently silent—that she would find away like love always did. If I truly stood for love in life, I had to make a stand to end her dishonesty. I refused to allow her, or myself, to like a false life. I truly believed once she realized what she did, she would find her way back to me—like she always did. She would eventually come to the realization she couldn’t live without me and to judge me emotionally in this situation wasn’t fair. I further believed she would see how she couldn’t be the mother she was meant to be for her kids without love in her heart. I would become more than a fantasy, and she would turn against Jackson. I just needed to give her time and even after all of this, I would still catch her—refusing to penalize her for the situation in the same way she punished me. She would’ve never figured it out any other way than through what transpired today. If she were comfortable at home knowing she had me at her disposal and leisure, she would never have an incentive to be honest. I felt if Jackson knew the truth, he would annoy her enough to leave him. And if she chose another direction, finding happiness with another man, at least I wouldn’t feel like she loved me for the sake of falling in love—that she truly had the intent to change her life. How could she ever find enough strength to deny our love and all we ever felt for the remainder of her days? There was just no way she could live that dishonestly. If Jackson knew the truth, he would never trust her and she would always be looking over her shoulder—eventually, this would end them.

When I returned to my mother’s room. I noticed she wasn’t there, but her pill bottle was. I reached for the nearly full bottle and poured half of its contents into my palm and stuffed them down one of my pockets. I then quickly exited her room. On my way out, she was making a sandwich in the kitchen. After letting her know I was heading home, she gave me a hug as I tried to escape before she found out how many Vicodin pills I had taken.

When I returned home, feeling emptier than I ever felt before, I waited until ten that night before sending Anya a series of messages meant to smooth things over, completely convinced Jackson made her do this.

ME: “Please forward these messages along. I wanted to apologize to you for taking shots at you today. It was nice of you to let me know what was going on. I just didn’t know what to believe or think. I’ve never had this happen to me before so I just didn’t know.”

ME: “I hope you’re ok over there. Sad we had to end up this way. I didn’t know any other way I could move on. I’d just keep hoping and I know who you want to be with. Like I said I would’ve never done this if I thought it would hurt the kids at all. Never.”

ME: “It appears the ones who are out for blood are trying to make me look like a homewrecker. A real bad guy and I’m kind of hoping I get a chance to prove to everyone what kind of man I am. I just wanted to be honest Anya, that’s all, even if it meant we couldn’t be together anymore.”

ME: “I believe this to be an attempt to repair his ego. He has nothing on me. Even with his status, you’d choose me over him if it wasn’t for the kids. That’s tough to live with. Guess I should feel sorry for him.”

ME: “It’s hard to imagine our time in San Francisco and now this. I’m not a stalker or a harasser. I’m a guy who is very honest. I’m straight up. I’m authentic. I do not lie. I would never expect anyone to lie for me, and then tell me I don’t love them if I didn’t. I wanted D&C to send you those emails. I wouldn’t want them to keep anything from you.”

ME: “I just don’t care what Jackson does. I’ve got more character and integrity than anyone. I’m honest to a fault. I just really trusted in you to be honest with him about us. You led me to believe we were special enough.”

ME: “I don’t want you to be scared. You have no reason to be afraid of me. He doesn’t either but I’m sure he’s afraid of the truth catching up to him. Hey, I’m glad he knows. Like I said, if you love your kids and would do anything for them, even sacrifice your happiness, then you might as well resolve your anger.”

ME: “Of course, I’d rather see you with someone who truly loves and respect you. Someone who brings the best out of you. He might act likes he does but we know otherwise. He would have to face the folks that you would rather be with an out of work CPA than him and all his money.”

ME: “I call this harassment and stalker case building, ego repair building. Anyway, don’t be scared. He may be able to get me for harassment but nothing else. I just wanted him to know the truth about our love for each other. If anything, I should be filing stalker charges for him getting in my Facebook account.”

ME: “Also just tell C&D I’m sorry for the Facebook messages. I didn’t do a creepy thing like he did and go into their profiles and read what they were writing and posting on their walls via their friends’ accounts. You can send a message without going into someone’s Facebook.”

ME: “Anyway I’m hoping the day comes when I get to meet my arch enemy face to face. Nice to be hated for once. The nice guy schtick was getting me nowhere. I’m hoping this case he is trying to build against me based on the truth will do the trick.”

ME: “You know I love you and I had to go for it. I told you I’d take a bullet for you and still would. You were my life. You still are. Will be for a long time. I had to risk everything. I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way we hoped. I just didn’t know what else to do. I just want you to have love and not have to pretend.”

ME: “I think I’m over 30 now so I think that’s enough to get me on harassment. If it will repair his ego, more power to him. Take care of yourself.”

After I sent these texts, I took a break as my mind seemed to spiral back and forth between Jackson and Anya. I suddenly lost the confidence to believe she wanted an out of work CPA over a man with Jackson’s wealth and that nine times out of ten she’d surround herself with more Jacksons than Landyns. What if Anya never told him the truth and this was all her doing? I then started a new set of texts to touch on that possibility, my self-esteem now plummeting to an all-time low.

ME: “I was thinking how ridiculous it sounds that you are in love with me and trying to build a harassment and stalker case against me. I had no idea you were his trainable robot when you married him. He even controls your thoughts to believing you are screwed up to be in love with me—a man who truly loves, honors and respects you. What has this world come to?”

ME: “I really hope you told him the truth that I broke your heart and that’s why we aren’t together. That the real reason we stopped was because you were afraid I was going to tell him about us. It wasn’t because you told me to let you go because you didn’t want to hurt the kids. I believe that’s called defamation of character and slander because that’s not true. Forward this on please.”

ME: “It’s a sorry state in this world when people who live dishonestly will do anything to protect those lies and do anything in their power to try to bring good honest people down. I really wish he’d confront me but I know he doesn’t have the balls. He doesn’t want to hear something he can’t handle and he knows it.”

ME: “The thing about all of this craziness is all you had to do was tell me you talked to him, then tell me your decision that we can’t be friends anymore and I would’ve just walked away but he had to take it a step further and contact a lawyer and a neighbor to whine about it. Big baby. What else could I do but walk away? I’d have no choice but to move on but no, he had to cry harassment or something else that is so untrue.”

ME: “This whole situation, them being “out for blood”, make me want to meet my “accuser” face to face. Not a threat. Just man to man. Let’s see who the real harasser and stalker truly is. How dare anyone accuse me of that when this relationship was between two consenting adults? Does the truth hurt so much you have to build a case to prevent its disclosure? He’s a joke of a human being.”

ME: “I’m more of a victim than anyone here. I trusted and opened my heart to you because he cheated on you, and you don’t defend me? You tell me I’m harassing you? You told me you don’t trust him and you defend him? Just doesn’t make sense to me. I’ll be absolved though. It will be much sweeter when this all comes out of the wash.”

ME: “They are “out for blood”? Does he think that scares me? It makes me want to see who is thirstier.”

ME: “You know, the kids were probably safe from knowing anything, but now that he has created a circus to try to repair his ego and to protect a flat out lie, the kids may find out now. He should want to protect them and not potentially expose them to this garbage. Just really stupid.”

ME: “I can’t believe you married this guy. I can’t believe you settled.”

Her “they are out for blood” statement roughly gnawed at my mind inciting me to fantasize about entering the battleground at her home. Did I have to go inside her home and pull her out of there? I then reeled in my insanity to how that would look to outsiders—I was definitely losing my mind. It begged the question though--what did she tell her husband that set them out for blood? Were they out for blood because I honored and respected her while the real villain, her husband, never did? Were they out for blood because I wanted a woman who claimed to need me more than air to leave her marriage and be honest to those around her? Shouldn’t I be the one out for blood after Jackson took my ability to make a living from me and cyber stalked me? If anyone was harassed and stalked, it was me—I’m the one who should be out for blood. When Anya phrased it that way, it made me thirst for vengeance—or at least to be able to arm myself with all the reasons why she fell in love with me. The truth was though, the only thing that could make them thirsty for blood, and even justified, is if she told them the tallest of all tales—I planned to go to the kids with all I felt. The thing that troubled me the most, after all we shared, after all the love I gave her, was how she had the audacity to pick up the phone to call the police on me. How could she ever choose do something to ensure we’d never see each other again if she ever loved me? As livid as I was, I still held out hope she’d come to her senses and prove me wrong. I was in complete denial that I could be this right about all my false conclusions—or had I been gaslighted by the master herself that badly? The thing that hurt me the most was the fact she was doing things to ensure she would remain with Jackson, and not with me—that she chose the unfaithful over the faithful.

After the most eventful day of my life, I somehow fell asleep, emotionally and mentally exhausted. I closed my eyes still believing she would sleep on it and come clean with him. She told me she wasn’t a malicious person, and I truly believed that. Her stress levels would only further increase and once reality set in, she’d reach out to me and I’d be open to reconciling, hoping I got this all wrong—I couldn’t continue living life if I was right. My feelings didn’t change for her—she was being forced to put on this dramatic show. Jackson told her you either get rid of him or I’m going to put you out on the streets—or something like that. If she left Jackson and came to me, eliminating the cloudiness of the situation I lost trust in the more my feelings grew, there’s no way I could turn her away—she had shown me she really did love me. Based on our past history, how each time she broke up with me, she always found a way back to me, I had faith she would return to prove me wrong. When I heard the ring tone indicating I had received a text from her, I held out hope she had stopped counting how many times I had contacted her and counted on me to show her we could work this out.

ANYA: “For the 28th time please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me. Please don’t show up at my properties.”

Hope remained as the postponement of disappointment for me—like it had for nearly two years. When she added to not show up at her properties, as if I knew where her properties were, it seemed like Jackson had his name written all over the texts she sent me now--or their lawyer did. Although I had never threatened a soul with violence, and although I was the one who was stalked, their goal was to turn me into the monster. There’s no way Anya told Jackson she was in love with me—she told him he planned to hurt her family. When I realized all my hopes were being annihilated, I swallowed three Vicodin pills, before I could respond, both emotionally and mentally exasperated. I now truly had nothing more to lose.

ME: “This is defamation of my character. I would never show up at your properties. You are in love with me.”

ME: “Do you Remember when you told me “There is no marriage”? So why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing to deserve this from you.”

ANYA: “For the 29th time please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me. Please don’t show up at my properties.”

ME: “Why would I ever show up at your properties? Your husband is the creep, not me.”

ANYA: “For the 30th time please stop contacting me, texting me, and harassing me. Please don’t show up at my properties. Please don’t harass my family n friends.”

ME: “What a joke. I just wanted you to know I just deleted your phone number from my phone. This will ensure you won’t ever hear from me. For the record you can just delete texts and not read them so I don’t know how you could be fearful of a text message. I’m harmless. If he decides to come after me in any way, he better be prepared to face the folks. I’m not Lance, the guy whose marriage he destroyed or the man who fled the state after he broke your engagement off. He’s not untouchable--he’s out there with me. Goodbye.”

Her texts made me choke on hope, filling me with more pain and sorrow that I’ve ever felt before. To reveal so much of myself to her while she conspired with her husband against me, after disrespecting my heart for two years was too much for me to bear. I trusted in her love for me so much, I foolishly believed she would make things right, instead, she couldn’t have made things more wrong. After selling me in the goodness of our love, she proved she never felt that way at all, and if she did, it was likely in a drunken stupor. Anya told me she grew from our relationship. The only way I grew from it was to know to never trust another woman, especially one who told me “I love you”.

ME: “Just remember one thing. To love someone, the way you loved me, by sharing the lives of your kids with me, even inviting me to Katie’s recital and telling me all you did about your husband, and then just letting me go instead of finding ways to be with me, was malicious to me. I am now going to delete your phone number. Any messages you send me after this text I will consider to be harassment and stalking.”

Since she never responded to my last text, it seemed she was reading them all along. In the end, she stayed true to herself—never showing me any real understanding, instead her only solution was to let me go. Her love non-existent, and fraudulent. If she felt like she betrayed her kids and she knew he would never allow her to leave, then what did she ever risk? I would’ve respected her situation if she had been honest in the beginning, instead she chose to weaken me emotionally by dropping a love bomb as destructive as a nuclear weapon if it was dropped on me. To make matters worse, she never defended me, leaving me to fend for myself while being submerged deep within the earth with nothing left to live for. These feelings of love would follow me everywhere—too much fear and anxiety for me to accept the truth that she never really loved me—she was too much in love with herself to be able to.