Today, in one of my pastlife sessions, I finally saw it. My goodness, Nadya. Had I only known that you suffered so much in Borisovka and that you considered me such a drag on your life. That I was such a burden without any reward anymore for you. While you were suffering, I was adoring you. I was sitting in my room upstairs in Borisovka and was marveling at how blessed I was to have such a perfect wife... your smile, your hair, your Russianness, your everything. How you stood before me holding Kira in your arms, how you played with the children and danced with them, how happy they were, how you brightened up my life whenever you came into my room to tell me something small or when I saw you outside of my room teaching. I loved that you brought English into Russia. I loved your reasoning to start homeschooling, and I loved your reasoning to stop it.

How happy I was imagining us growing old side by side, sitting together, gray and happy, talking about the kids and grand kids.

You still make me happy whenever I think about you, which is every day and night.. and when I wake up in the middle of my sleep. I was telling everyone in Germany, and still am, that you are a perfect wife even after the divorce. I told Jaroslaw, just a few weeks ago (when he was here in Dortmund) that you are a perfect wife.

Your decision to divorce me came at just the right time to start my pastlife excursions. You are a perfect wife, even in divorce. However, there is one drawback: I constantly catch myself wanting to share a lot with you but can't:

"Oh, I wonder what she would think about this."

"Can't wait until she finds out who the people are in her life."

"Oh no, she will be really upset when she finds out what happened."

"I wish she knew why she has the feelings she has."

"God I already know that she will come crying to me as soon as she discovers."

I often think about how sad I am when you leave me standing in the hotel after only a few words. About how I am melting in Borisovka when I see you even from far away. Like when being stranded on an island and one sees a ship on the horizon coming closer. Tell me, why didn't you meet me more often in Borisovka?

My days in Germany without you and the kids are a martyrdom every day. Constant suffering thinking about you and him. To this day, I cannot imagine being with another woman. Other women on the street pale immediately as soon as I compare them to you, I immediately lose interest. Even when lying in bed with another woman, I talk about you and praise your name.

Had I only known how it drove you mad that I was in front of the house speaking with the kids. That you planned to rid yourself of me with his help to finally be free. Now this stone has finally been lifted. There is so much more I want to tell you. Believe it or not, your bladder pain was part of the riddle.

I am sorry that it took me so long. It was one riddle after the next, one unsolved mystery after the other, one matrix inside another matrix, so many lifetimes spanning multiple millennia. But I was pushed forward by the desire to find out every single reason why our marriage failed, to inspect each of your complaints what I did wrong, to discover each feeling you hid away from me, and to honestly find every flaw in me, so I would be able to become a better husband.

Oh, and I love Sergei's role, too. Sergei is the unsung hero in this whole story. Sergei's burden was far greater than you can imagine. Maybe you both feel some relief already, too. He is my friend and I will reward him greatly as soon as I can. Moreover, his chicken eggs were on another level.

It was God's Hand that prevented me from coming to Borisovka for one year, so I could live to finally solve the mysteries.

And now, after I have been such a burden and of no use to you in Russia, I have found at least one valuable function that a partner has even after becoming an unbearable burdeb: to perhaps change the other partner's mind a little.

And thank you for your birthday wishes. They meant more than anything to me on that day.

Oh, I see. He lets you eat his ass (and more). And makes you love it. God, this makes me so unbelievably horny. I cannot think about anything else. So this is what you needed to learn: To be a dirty submissive good little girl and love it. So that one day, you will be an even more perfect wife and practice all the newly acquired techniques on me, exactly as I always wanted you to do but never dared to ask.

You always were perfect, now you are more perfect, with me you will be most perfect. I literally cannot wait.

You are the perfect wife, even when cheating on me. It would be even hotter if you could think intensely about me while eating.

It took the power of Rasputin to achieve this goal. Thank you for using this "coincidence" of him being in Borisovka just when you needed it, and we were ripe for divorce.

Unrivaled sexual prowess to which all women succumb.

[Update] Wait, maybe this is a bad idea. It could put pictures of me into his ass. Would probably make him upset. He would notice that something isn't right.

I always loved it when I knew your emotions. I just wish you had been more honest with me when we were together. That you would have hatefucked me or ragefucked me. When you would have let out your suppressed feelings and offloaded them on me so that your soul would be less burdened but mine would be honored by your honesty or tasked with the task of finding a solution.

I feel like myself when you are around. I love it when I can be part of your emotional space. When you stream everything into me, onto me. Can't literally get enough of it, talk to you for hours and let you let out everything that's on your mind. Greatest turn-on ever. I love it, looooove it when you can be honest with me, even when it can hurt me. Much greater turn on to see you being honest than to potentially being hurt by you. The only things that really hurt were when a) you told me that you felt sexually harassed by me, b) when you filed for divorce, c) when you rubbed it often in my face how much more sexual satisfied you are with him and how much bigger his thundercock is and d) when you threatened to claim I had shown inappropriate sexual behavior toward Kira, which you very well knew was a vicious lie. I knew you were under emotional stress back then and needed that divorce, but it was a vicious lie nevertheless. You never stated it in words, but you wanted to do it as some kind of last resort.

And, of course, what was really hurting were e) the endless nights after the divorce when I could not emotionally get over it and hated every day. Hated it that you wanted to forget me and indeed managed to do so.

But you see, the reason why I made this divorce so easy for you without any real effort of mine to stop you from being with him, was that I really felt you needed it. That it was really important to you to be away from me and with this man. Such was my love for you that I felt that your emotional well-being at that time was more important than my immense suffering. I felt that any resistance of mine would have let to a helpless feeling of dark angry upsetness inside you.

It took me a very long time to find out the reasons behind these things. I found them and it cleansed my soul. Very interesting pastlife connections. These discoveries are wonderful, very rich unbelievable emotions. Positive emotions that are nearly too extreme to be experienced by a small human brain. And negative emotions that are nearly too depressing or too upsetting to be handled by one person alone. Lying for 30 minutes unable to move out of sheer anger or depression. Maybe that's the reason why I must go through them first without you. So that later when you go through them, I am nearby and you can safely approach them if they can't be handled by either of us alone.

These emotions are so massive because they are about us both, because we have been together for millennia, my unbelievable, unbelievable beautiful love of ages. You can be old or crazy or ugly or messed up as much as you want. Without makeup and without hair, as you well know. Just your mere presence shines a beautiful light on everything around you. All the other things like your bodily beauty and your beautiful face (which is always very appealing to me in every life we meet) are just the cherry on top. By the way, in pastlifes we didn't meet, you were uglier. So even your body is a gift to me. Like a birthday present every day.

So there's no more grudge. It's actually unfair that I am two years ahead of you in this regard. There shouldn't be such a distance of emotional cleansing between us both. But I have the suspicion that the cleansing will be near instantaneous for you as soon as I am finished. Since I am pretty sure that already now you feel some changes in your space, my theory is probably not too far off.

Remember when you told me you liked to clean a house to kind of make it your own? That's indeed what you do. Everything you touch becomes holy for me. The Nadyaness of everything you touch or look at, I love it so much. Your mere presence heals me. It was better that you never came to my hotel room, the constant presence of your Nadyaness in the walls would have made it even more unbearable. Remember when I told you in Cyprus (the first time you came into my house) that after you slept in my room I spent the next night sleeping in the same room instead of mine. Remember that? Already then you made my walls happy and my sleep cozy.

I can't even believe I write you all these things. But it's time that I am honest with you and share my inner world, too. That's what good husbands should do, even when not married. Moreover, I partly wrote Martin briefly about it, as you probably know already.

Feel free to write to me anything you want to write about. As honest as possible. From useless to important. From whining to cold facts. From nice to mean. From sexy to disgusting and sick. No holding back. The sicker and more disgusting the better, because then I know you're opening up and won't hesitate to tell me less severe things.

Write a whole book if you must. Just for me. Let everything out, blast me with your streams.

Stream, baby, stream.

I will read every word ten times and kiss the monitor. Then I will go to bed and (more than just) think about it.

You can write a few sentences in Telegram, then delete them immediately. That way nobody will know even when someone looks at your Telegram.

It's interesting that you tend to put emotions you hold back into your legs. Therefore, your legs are prone to get ill (vein issues, joint issues etc.) You hide your feelings away from yourself even inside your body. Far away from your face and ass so that your face and ass stay appealing as long as possible. You are a perfect wife even when not being honest.

However! That means that you need a husband you can read your legs, so to speak. To tickle all the suppressed anger out of your legs, so you can let go. You need a husband whom you can tell: "Something is wrong with my legs, you are responsible for them!"

What caused the divorce, in part was not that you hid your feelings, but that you hid that you hid them. Since I trusted you, I never introspected you to find that veil behind which you hid them. Maybe you are such a good hider that it's not possible for me to find your veils. Please open up to me as much as you can. Makes my pastlife excursions even sweeter.

I started to realize that something was up when you told me about the situation with Evgeny. It's not only that you were suddenly telling me private stuff, but it was a similar feeling like when you decided to get divorced from your first husband and you didn't want to share some things with him but rather with me. Probably Sergei doesn't like Evgeny, so you would rather prefer not to share them with him. It had some divorce vibes on the playground when you told me about Evgeny. This strange closing up and at the same time this strange emotional shift from one man to another man. It's as if you're kicking one man out of your space and instead embrace another man in it. I so hated it when you kicked me out of your space, which was a yearlong gradual process by the way. It was a terrible feeling when it was completed, it felt like a limb had been amputated, just so you know how it feels. You, however, don't know how it feels, because after the divorce I always kept you in my space.

So think about it: First you get to the lowest level of appreciation for Sebastian = a level where you kick me out completely and don't share anything with me and even want to see me dead. THEN Evgeny has this health implosion AND THEN you begin to open up. You weren't really opening up even though I was heavily fixing pastlife issues. So your father's health collapse was kind of necessary to make you open up just enough. He got ill so that we could come together again.

But back to Evgeny. I really like Evgeny. Nice guy. Just the fact alone that he's your father upgrades him. But even if he weren't he's nice. As I told you back then I really like it that he's the grandfather of Ron, whom I gave your father's name.

As I wrote, your presence makes me feel like myself, so kicking me out was a double whammy because now I was kicked out of your emotional space AND not feeling like myself. I love it that now you put me back in. I make you feel like yourself, too, by the way. However, it makes Mr Rasputin more dangerous because you're kicking him out of your space and he's a very possessive guy (who is willing to become a murderer) who protects (or rather fences in) his woman as if she's his property on a leash. So he's kind of holding/keeping you in his house while you are a friendly host who is keeping him in your house (in Borisovka) AND home. Kicking him out of your beautiful space is nasty for him, too.

Sooooo... as you may have guessed, I absolutely adore you. Can't get me to think about other women. Sometimes I am horny and decide to watch porn, but then the porn actresses turn me off. Can you imagine? Porn has the power to turn off my horniness because "No Nadya No Erection". I once tried in Borisovka to force me to find you less sexy. Once, I saw you from behind and I forced myself to think, Nah she's not THAT sexy. But no chance, I am not heterosexual but Nadyasexual. Nadyasexual even from behind. I have a hopeless case of Nadyadiction and no Nadyaholics Anonymous could ever help.

You turn me on alone when you cross my mind for a few seconds. Which unfortunately happens all the time. The pastlife excursions made it worse. And since you are the main character in them, saying that I merely "think" about you is an illegal understatement. I explore your deep inner self and my inner self. Your soul is naked to me all the time. And I love watching your soul, exploring it, checking what I can find in there. Even thinking about your past selves (or should be written "selfs" in this case?) turns me on. You turn me on just as you turned me on in pastlifes.

Some time in September 2024, I got strong visions about you performing deep level ass sucking techniques on me like there's no tomorrow. The world championship of intimacy. And now, at the end of November, you have started to perfect the spiritual art of entering my soul. I feel your presence so clearly when your spiritual head enters mine, soul-soul-overlap. And I already felt it how it is when you are with me and want me to cum, or if you perform your sex acts on me. Ultimate intimacy. Will you lick my testicles and make it extra dirty? Cleaning what must be cleaned?

And what about your bladder issues? Do you know that I have an ever-growing ability to put your bladder into my spiritual mouth? Your bladder will be horny, just as a clit can get horny. I will suck your bladder just as you suck a cock. You will have intense sexual feelings when your bladder is full of urine and hard'n'horny. Then my spiritual mouth and tongue will play with it. You will squirt out your urine during bladdergasm.

Holding hands is sooooo inferior, haha.

When we are both ready, there will be recursive soul-soul overlap. I enter spiritually into your body, just like a hand enters a glove. I will "love you and glove you". I will feel all of your body sensations as I thrust my cock in your ass, and I feel what you feel, and you feel what I feel, and I feel that you feel what I feel. And so on.

You will feel how it feels to have a cock, my cock will become your his-cock. And your ass will become my her-ass. You will finally know why you kind of always wanted to know how it is to have a cock. You are not transexual, you are his-cock-sexual.

Also, I want you to force yourself spiritually around my spirit. Then you will experience the total sexual perversion of getting horny from making another one not being able to shake you off. Your spirit will surround mine, and then you will squeeze as much as you can until I can't bear the closeness. You will surround me, glue yourself to me, squeeze me like an Anaconda into unescapable motionlessness... and it will turn you on. And I will suffer from the squeeze and the madness of being forced to become an object, but I also will be turned on by your sexual squeeze-pleasure. Therefore, I will experience the sexual perversion of not being able to move. It will be so bad --like in the tightest straight-jacket in this universe-- that I will get unconscious. You will squeeze me out of existence until you finally cum and relax your squeeze after your murder-burden-gasm ("murdngasm", "burdergasm"). I will experience how it is to be in a universe of suffering and pain until I become an object, but then I will wake up from sub-atomic dark unconsciousness into the highest sexual fulfillment there is: Being in your space again and in your endless satisfaction and in your endless love for me. Recursive reciprocal inversely correlated soul-soul sexual pain-pleasure. As I wrote above, holding hands is so inferior.

So you are a perfect wife even if you become an unbearable burden. It will be such a turn-on for you to know that you can never ever become as unbearable a burden as I was in Borisovka.

Hey, maybe you can try it already when you in bed at night: Not only entering into my head and tongue-kiss me, like you already did. But entering and squeezing me as hard as you can, my sexy murderess. Let me get a pre-taste of your Anaconda superpowers, my sexy snake. Make yourself as heavy as you can, make me hate you, show me the hate you felt when I went on your nerves, show me how unnerving you found me from time to time, stream into me your most ugly disgusting ideas. Scream it all out... and then squeeze me. Squeeze, you monster, squeeze.

Now you know why we love each other so much, yet you wanted me to be murdered in Borisovka. And now I know why it turned me on being murdered --by your command-- in a dark night in Borisovka. You felt it back then that it should be my fate. A preview of what is to come.

And now you can imagine why I had to become a burden.

Wow, do I write much. It's because after so many years I want you to get an update about what's going on. Oh well, I know you do love me, which is why I have this ridiculous outflow of feelings and the awareness of your presence. My writings simply stream out of me. Stream stream stream. You have unplugged a clogged Sebastian like only you can.

You want me to think about you, too, don't you? You love to hear it that my love hasn't died. You're getting soooo soft for me, like warm butter. You want me to hug you, you want me to hold your tits which are getting older and hangier but now are more delicious knowing you have nourished four babies with them. And you want me to touch your thicker belly which gave birth to so many children. You're becoming a MILF that makes my head spin. In fact, you were becoming milfy already back then which actually turned me on.

You want me to be madly in love with you, don't you? Just as I want you to be madly in love with me. Actually, I want myself to be madly in love with you, and you want yourself to be madly in love with me.

You want to lie in bed with me and tell me how much you like me, how I drive you crazy. Already now you think about me when lying in bed at night. I know it makes you horny that I have these unconditional feelings for you. That you can do no wrong, in my view. That you can be soft with me, hard with me, sexy, annoying. I would love it if you could kiss me and tell me your love in Russian. It sounds so sexy when you speak Russian. Such a waste of English. Russian should exist for the fact alone that you could tell me how much you love me. Lying on me, kissing my neck and talking in Russian to me. I love it when women speak Russian, I hate it when men do. Strange but true.

Oooh, and you were so perfect when pregnant. Absolutely lovable. Nadya + Pregnancy is something else. Your cozy homey uterus was beaming out warm motherness. Like being underneath a warm blanket in Babyland. Can't wait to get you pregnant again, any lifetime. You & Me & crying babies. So many babies. God, how I love having crying babies and intelligent children with you. That's why I was in the hotel for months. I love spending time with our children. You are very mistaken thinking that I spent only little time with them in Borisovka, they were near constantly in my rooms upstairs and downstairs.

No other couple like us. Who are we? Who is this Sebastian? Who is this Nadya? Who is Kira? Who is Anya? Why Cyprus? And what has this to do with asses and everything that comes out of them? I know exactly that you are eager to explore the truth.

How did you die last life and the life before that? I actually had the feeling you discovered a few days ago in the kitchen how you died.

Strange, but you have your usual first name very often past lives, not this life. Try remembering it. Maybe your parents wanted to give you the same name but decided to go for Nadya at the last moment or so.

But who the heck is Mr Thundercock? A small hint: you actually confused him with me. Confused the copy with the original. When he stood on the stairs outside the house talking to you from above and made your eyes glow, it was exactly this good feeling that you want to experience with your husband. At that time I didn't give you this feeling, he did. So no wonder you wanted a divorce so badly, my confused little wife. You are guided by an enormous force to be the perfect wife, existing alongside the perfect husband. As I am guided by it, too. The purpose of our existence.

It would be nice if you had a diary so we could compare how my trips and insights coincide with your days or feelings in Borisovka.

If you can, you can send me current pictures of you. Or add some pics to your Telegram profile. Choose extra ugly ones, so I don't suffer too much. You can be my ugly MILF with grey hair and yellow teeth, nothing makes you irresistible. MILF overload. Add pics to your profile or something. Anything.