Let me be very clear for the inevitable day when she finds this blog—because let’s be honest, she will.She’s stalked me for thirteen years, obsessing over a life that doesn’t belong to her.So, for the record: I don’t write because she lives rent-free in my head.I write because this is how I exorcise the weight I’ve carried around for over a decade.It’s not about her. It’s about me.My healing.My story.My truth. He lied.Big lies.Twisted, self-serving lies meant to paint me as the villain, so he could justify chasing the easiest piece of ass he could find. And isn’t that how it always goes?The man says he’s “unhappy,” that his wife…