Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
I felt sick to my stomach reading most of it and wondered how much of that filth was my fault. I wanted to scream and maybe throw myself off a bridge while I was at it, but she was keeping me here. If I leave now, who will protect her from this shit storm? A storm that I had apparently caused.
Now that my mind was somewhat clearer as I went through the older posts and read about how hard she’d had it in those first days, weeks, and months after the split, I felt immense guilt. She was the one who’d helped me clean up my own messed-up image.
When I look back at my life, the only time I was truly happy was the days spent with her. I think I might have lost my humanity without her by my side. And I’d repaid her by putting her in the midst of what for her could’ve only been hell. But who was behind this?
As much as I dislike and distrust Janie, I found it hard to believe that she had any part in this. Noel and Nicole, yes, this is what they’re known for, and their mother is a grandmaster at it. But Janie was supposed to be a sweet Christian girl with morals and shit. She never came across as the type to do this kind of shit.
It was obvious that the unflattering pictures were photoshopped, well, at least to me, someone who knew her body better than anyone else. But the comments and the constant attacks and ridicule would send anyone over the edge.
And I know better than anyone how sensitive Elena is. She’s one of those people who think that all it takes is being kind and that kindness would come back to you. It’s one of her many virtues I wish I had. That, and her penchant for seeing only the good in people, even the ones who hurt her.
For someone like her, someone with that kind of heart, this has got to be hell. They didn’t only attack her body, but they’d gone hard on getting their fans to tear her down with lies and insinuations. They’d dredged up the wedding again, and there was even more speculation about what went down there, which I know must be a very sore spot for Elena.
For the first time, I went even further back into the old posts to see everything that I’d missed, and it was just as bad or worse than what was going on now. I felt ashamed of myself that I didn’t know any of this had been going on. Is this why Janie and her dad had suggested that I stay off of social media?
I’d only given in because, back then, the backlash from the public had been brutal. If I had any doubts about how much she was loved, I learned really fast. But someone’s PR firm had been working overtime because she took a beating. I’ll make whoever was behind this pay a very steep price. In fact, I wanted to do some smearing of my own, but I knew she wouldn’t want that. She’d be even more disappointed in me if I stooped to their level.
It was obvious that there was nothing coming from her end, not a peep. Class all the way. And I felt like even more of a fuck up seeing it. How the fuck did I convince myself that Janie was better than Elena? They’re not even in the same league. What’s that saying? You can’t compete where you don’t compare. Even a comatose, deaf, and blind man could see that. I fucked up!
I saw my name on a lot of posts and scratched my head as I wondered when I had made them. Some of which were used to hurt her, and others were just filled with taunts and jabs. I don’t recall any of it, but there it was on the screen, sent from my accounts for all the world to see. Did people really believe this shit? Even some of my own fans, names that I recognized because they’d been following me since the beginning of my career, had piled on her because of things I supposedly said.
Shouldn’t these people know me better? I guess that’s a good way to remind myself that fans aren’t necessarily my friends. A friend, a true friend, would know me and know that there’s no way I could turn off my love for her. But here they were, divided, being used like tools to tear down the better part of my life.
Just on a hunch, I created a few dummy accounts, which was pretty easy, and went scouring not only their pages but mine. It took me hours to wade through the shit that had been attributed to me, things I never would’ve said no matter how high I was. The shit about my marriage being the love story of the century, I could overlook; who the fuck cares?