The Love Assassins Are Back

Debby calls them "Team Freedom"

I didn't want to believe it. After all this time, it just can't be. But it is: two killers in a car down the street, casing my place.

I immediately had flashbacks to the afternoon nightmare in Deep Ellum, barely escaping with my life, the light of the day trying to get me killed. There were two that day as well. That pair miscalculated, counting on the element of surprise. But I'd always reserved a belief that Debby would pull such a stunt.

But what's triggering this now?? What has gone wrong in her life in the ensuing decade plus? How am I not a non-issue in her life of vast marriage and material, the envy of the uncivilized world? To whom can she not sell her story as a success?

To me, of course. 

I'm in a more fortified position. I put up surveillance cameras at my place for fun and yet again, by the skin of my teeth, I spot my would-be killers. They are looking for their chance, an opening, taking their time. Not a direct hit like last attempt. What can I do?

I've been feeling particularly lost lately, a voided life bereft of meaning, suspended in a vacuum. Debby doesn't have to go to a job that crucifies her soul on a daily basis, leaving her begging for death. After running away from Emily, my life is in ruins. Somehow she still thinks I'm relevant.

                                  Maybe she's worried about people seeing this

If Debby were to face me, my bet is she'd change her mind. She knows the real me as I know the real her. We were made for each other. Only she can know how far I've truly fallen. All she has to do is let Nature take its course and finish me off.

In her inverted world, I'm a threat to her carefully crafted fraud. Perhaps if I had something in my life I'd feel the same way about her and send my own assassins. I can picture her now bemoaning the inverted world and how truth must be served - just as soon as I'm dead so her story can stick.

This feels more determined. Take out these two and she'll only send more. Little voice told me I was only buying time when I took out the first assassins. The times are more desperate every day, Debby channeling her inner Putin to maintain cover. Both their murderous ways are a cry for help. I too cry for help in the middle of the night. Talk about your unholy trinity.