Reaching out - Texts

3rd November — Reaching Out

On the 3rd of November, I started texting Ryan again.
I told him I was sorry — properly sorry.
Not the quick, surface-level kind, but the kind that comes from the bottom of your stomach, where all the guilt sits heavy.

He wanted answers.
Of course he did.

And I told him what I could.
The truth that I’d been trying to unravel myself.

I told him I was in therapy — trying to understand why I did what I did, why I created the lie, why I had let it grow into something so big it swallowed me whole.

My therapist, Gavin from the Crisis Team, was helping me piece things together.
I’d told them everything.
Every detail.
Every mistake.
Every dark thought.

I told them the truth about why I’d tried to take my own life — because of Ryan, because of the catfishing, because I felt there was no way out once the truth was exposed. I’d royally fucked up, and all I wanted was for the pain and the chaos to stop.

I told Ryan I was so sorry.
I knew the words didn’t change anything — apologies can’t undo the damage — but I meant them with everything I had. I was truly, painfully sorry.

But every time he messaged was making me worse he was hurting and making me hurt, I  Told him i had to block him  he told me no i was the one with the answers , so i tried my best with him, and told him what I could 

My Therapists had no idea that i was messaging him or that i had cancer  that i was due to start  treatment 

And the funny thing?
Not one of them even looked at my notes.

In a dark, twisted way… it actually made me laugh.
Here I was spilling half my life to the Crisis Team, and somehow the biggest parts ,   the chaos with Ryan but the cancer wasn't even on there radar.

Gavin told me that some of the catfishing might have come from everything I’d been through — the abuse from my ex-husband, the chaos with my ex-boyfriend, who still jumped whenever his wife clicked her fingers, even though they were separated.

He said maybe I’d been looking for stability, comfort, connection… and I’d found that in Ryan.
But Ryan wouldn’t have spoken to me as Stefan’s girlfriend.
Not in the way I needed.
Not honestly.

So Lis became the version of me he would talk to — the version he trusted, opened up to, connected with.

It wasn’t right.
It wasn’t fair.
But in that moment, it made a kind of broken sense that I’m only just beginning to understand.