Today I found more “evidence.”
Not of love—
but of manipulation.
Tucked away in my bedside cabinet were more anniversary and Valentine’s Day cards.
Sweet words.
Declarations of love.
Promising forever.
Written just before they walked away.
Written while they were already lying.
Written with the full knowledge they were leaving, damaging, deceiving.
🧠 What Kind of Mind Does This?
These weren’t romantic keepsakes.
They were emotional props—tokens of confusion meant to mask what was really happening.
They were not left behind by accident.
They were planted.
Left like crumbs, so if I ever questioned the truth, they could say,
“But look—I loved you. Look at the cards. Look at the photos.”
It’s not forgetfulness.
It’s not mixed emotions.
It’s calculated. It’s creepy.
And it’s part of the distortion they use to confuse you—and everyone else.
🔍 This Time, I’m Documenting It for What It Really Is: Evidence.
I’m photographing the cards in situ, as they were found.
Because this time, they won’t become emotional landmines tucked into drawers.
They’re going in the case file—
Next to the timelines,
The lies,
The contradictions,
And the psychological reports that saw straight through it.
Let the evidence speak.
💣 Because These Weren’t Love Letters—They Were Cover Stories.
Cover stories to defend a public image.
To create confusion.
To future-fake and guilt-wash.
To make me second-guess the harm.
To gaslight the aftermath.
The psychologist saw it immediately.
So did I—once I was safe enough to see clearly.
🗑️ Now, They Go in the Bin.
With every photo, every empty “I love you,” every image of pretend happiness—I reclaim my truth.
This isn’t bitterness.
It’s release.
It’s truth-telling.
It’s the end of the performance.
I’ve held onto these things long enough—
Trying to find meaning,
Trying to make sense,
Trying to remember what was real.
But the truth is, they were never real.
Just distorted snapshots of a relationship that was never safe.
🧹 Clearing the Clutter of Cognitive Dissonance
We keep things that hurt us because we’re trying to figure them out.
But now? I no longer need to understand them.
I understand myself.
And myself deserves clarity, not chaos.
Truth, not trauma.
Peace, not puzzles.
💬 If you’ve been there…
If you’ve found old cards, photos, or gifts and felt the sting of false memory—
You’re not alone.
You don’t have to hold onto these things to prove it happened.
You happened. Your pain was real. Your truth is valid.
With or without their paper trail.
Let it go.
Burn it. Bin it.
Or photograph it—if you still need it for justice.
And then, let it go.
Because some things belong in the past.
Some things belong in the bin.
And some things?
Were never love in the first place.
🖤
#EmotionalAbuseAwareness #StraightInTheBin #PsychologicalAbuse #HealingTruth #NarcissisticAbuseRecovery #DistortedLove #EvidenceOfAbuse #WhenLoveIsALie
