Who I am in 2023

I guess if you’re new here all you really know about me is that the love of my life died in his sleep beside me 80 days ago.

A few of you know me from my OpenDiary days circa 2001 and beyond, and a select few know me on Facebook.

I’ll be 43 years old in September. I’m Canadian.

I have 3 mostly-grown children, aged almost 21, 18, and 17. Only my 17 y/o son lives at home with me, my oldest son and my daughter live across the country in BC, I live in Ontario.

My 21 y/o son has a different sperm-donor than my youngest 2 children. Neither sperm-donor has ever been involved in any of our lives.

I’ve been the black sheep of my family since I was born. For a very very long time I tried to shed the black wool and in doing so, I forgot who I really was.

I married an abusive narcissistic asshole in 2009 after being in a relationship with him since 2006 because my friends & family expected me to settle down and get married, especially to a guy who didn’t seem to care that I had 3 children from 2 previous relationships.

I escaped him finally in 2013, and he was sent to prison in 2017 having been sentenced to 4 years for domestic violence & assault against me during the course of our relationship/marriage.

I fled my “home” province (where my family lives) and settled in beautiful southern BC with my children, ready to start our lives over. And start over we did.

We blossomed. Bloomed. Discovered ourselves. We laughed hard and loved harder. I was so happy being on my own with my minions.

Then the pandemic hit .. and my best friend, who I had met online around 2009-10 playing Call of Duty, confessed his love for me and after all those years, I was ready to admit I loved him too.

My landlords in BC decided to take advantage of the housing boom and sold the house I had been renting for 6 years. The same housing boom made it impossible for me to find another rental on my income - I’m medically retired, my ex-husband caused irreversible brain damage with his fists.

I sold everything I owned, made arrangements for my daughter to stay with friends for her senior year of high school in BC, my oldest had graduated in 2020, and my youngest & I moved across the country to start our lives with my soulmate.

The past 2 years have been complete & utter bliss. A happiness I never knew existed. A peaceful calm of love. My son flourished here, flourished.

My daughter graduated and we flew back last summer to attend her graduation. Which is when I discovered that the close friend I had entrusted my child to, paid room & board for, slept soundly at night knowing she was safe - had been securely assaulted by this woman’s husband within weeks of me moving the year before. And that woman convinced both my older children to keep that secret from me because she knew the hell I would rain down.

She immediately kicked her husband out and then began sleeping with my older son’s best friend, who was 19 at the time. This woman is 45 fucking years old. Geezus.

Upon learning this news while in BC last year, I unleashed a level of holy hell never before seen by this so-called friend of mine. Suffice to say, now a year later, her (ex)husband has been formally charged with sexual interference of a minor - my daughter was 16 at the time - there were inappropriate text messages and he climbed into her bed one night and began touching her before she woke up and kicked him off her.

I got both my kids (my older son had been living there too) out of that house immediately, informed those that needed to be informed, began legal proceedings, and repaired my relationship with my children who had been manipulated and brainwashed by that bitch.

She has since been run out of town, blacklisted everywhere, and under investigation by child services because she also has a younger child with her fuckwit ex-husband. She’s also still boning the (former) friend of my kids.

On April 3 of this year I slipped out of bed early and saw my 17y/o off to school as usual. I let my soulmate sleep in as he hadn’t been feeling well the night before.

By 11am he still hadn’t gotten up to even use the bathroom so I snuck in and touched his hand to shake him gently in the darkness. His hand was cold and he felt stiff.

I don’t really remember what happened next. I called 911, I threw my dogs into the bathroom. The operator asked me to get him on the floor and start CPR. I threw the bedroom curtains open and light flooded the room, I remember screaming “Why is he that colour!?” and seeing his skin a yellowish-grey and then crying, “I can’t I can’t I can’t he’s stiff!”

The next thing I remember is laying on the floor at my apartment door, my arm reached above my head holding the main door access buzzer constantly to let the police & paramedics in when the got there.

A female office came hauling ass down the hall, into my apartment and I pointed down the hall to our bedroom, hanging up with 911 because help had arrived.

I collapsed fully on the floor as the office came back down the hall from the bedroom, kneeling in front of me, saying, “I’m so sorry, he’s gone, Heather he’s gone.”

But I already knew. I knew the moment I touched his hand.

My soulmate died that day. But so did I.

So here you have found me. 80 days later. Everything in this diary prior to April 2023 has been vaulted. I’m not her anymore. I never will be again.

This is my new chapter and for now it is sadness and grief and pain.