If you aren't capable of handling raw emotion I'm going to ask you not to read any further. I am not holding back any words or thoughts in this, so you have been warned. It is not a pleasant journal entry, but it is reality- My reality, my son's reality. It's not for you to judge. Mother's Day is destroyed for us now.

Her handler probably won't have the balls to let her read this, his own fragile existence would probably shit itself at the thought and I seriously doubt she would have the courage to make it to the end. She has already demonstrated that. Truth hurts. That's why she needed something barely stronger than herself with a paycheck because he's controllable. Weak men need love too I suppose, even if they have to buy it.

This is the time of the year that I'd be thinking about trying to do something special for Diane. The only problem I'm facing now, is the reality that the woman that has control of my son at the moment is not his mother.

Not anymore.

What used to be a celebration of what we did is now marked on this day from here on out as a remembrance that she died- this thing she is now cannot change that, she will bury it in her own self-loathing and despair, hide it with hollow spoils, stolen laughter, and our murdered, innocent lives. She deserves it as such. I may always be a reminder, but even when I'm gone, the life our son was supposed to have will remain long after she is gone.

"The smell of your lies and treachery will forever bring them to you."

Until you have seen the Gods and been in their halls, everyone with a belief can be considered chaotic, unknowing and unstable. For some people it is a lifelong conflict, and others have found personal resolution by not acknowledging that conflict at all. We rely on stories we are told and things we cannot see to absolve fears and answer questions being asked, time immortal. Every civilization and culture shapes their own ways to answer those questions.

…And with each and every one of them there have always been the same battles and challenges, no matter the marked calendar or measure of time.

Good vs Evil, Truth vs Lies, Love vs Hate.

Our stories, sagas, and writings manifest to give hope and teach in ways so we can understand.

Just pacing today. I've been doing so much this last week I kind of forgot to eat and sleep a whole lot along the way, but you have to understand that clocks, calendars, and the light outside doesn't seem to have any bearing on where I'm at.

I'm exhausted. I tried, really I did after my trip last week to divert some of this into something proactive, and at its root it's still the same thing. I'm trying anything and everything I can to reach out and be able to talk and hold my son. Just like prior to this mess, my whole day was devoted to moving forward and doing whatever it took to keep my family together.

Somebody contacted me and said his mother and her wallet John could be open to allowing me to talk to my son. I wanted to get excited, really I did but you know after I finish with what I have to say you'll understand why I was reluctant to have any hope. You simply do not get between a parent and their child. 

After I had a few things explained to me, I could see right through the reasoning behind them reaching out to them. It wasn't because Diane has any desire for me to have a relationship with my son- If you look through everything and the way they have done things, it's all self preservation. Nothing more.

Since I started writing about my situation, most of it was to get things off of my chest that I have been hiding for so long, I just couldn't take it anymore. Then when Diane hung up that one day and there has been zero contact, I have been in nothing but a panic mode hellscape. The ache in my heart just does not go away. I already explained how it happened, I'm not going to rewrite all of that it's already too painful just thinking about it because I relive it everyday. You can read up on that anytime you want. it's public.