I can see that you (and Teresa, for that matter) have been exploring my blog several times over the past few days. Only a numb skull creates a blog and yet expects it to be private, and I'm not that, at the very least. So, welcome. Pull up a chair and sit down. You might actually learn something.
But here's the thing. I wish I didn't have to worry about why you were here. I can see not only that you were here, but what the search terms were that led you here. You were looking for references to you. Did you think that I would publicly bash you? Say something libelous? Did your lawyer send you here for ammunition against me? I just don't know. I hate it that I have to consider such despicable things about you, but such is the fruit of your behavior.
Know this. This blog is not about you. My life is no longer about you. True enough, your behavior sent me to the edge of my capabilities. You have pushed me away from you and off into a life I never wanted or even really considered. But having done that, you no longer set the terms. This space and this life? They're mine. You're not the story here.
Now, if you want to read about the story, you are welcome. But know that you are no longer even the subtext. I'm not even sure that I wish it were otherwise, anymore.