Abuser, Uncategorized

If I could go back…

I know, I’m talking a lot today.  That’s what I do when I’m scared and today I am scared, but this too shall pass.  Hang in there while I work this out and don’t get too sick of me yet because I know I keep referring to the past even though I know the past is over and done with.  Once I am done with today I will be much stronger because I finally understand how ruthless of man he is.  I also recognize I want the damn apology and remorse for my heart, but that’s obviously never ever going to happen since I’m not dealing with a person who is unable to emotionally connect because somewhere along the way those who raised him destroyed that part of him that he will never be able to gain back.  If I could do it all over again I would go back to January 1, 2013 and have trusted myself enough to have walked away after the very first time I caught him in a lie but the lie itself wasn’t so bad, it’s what he did with it and how he handled it that’s a mark of a sadist.

It had been two weeks since we had seen one another.  Upon arriving at his apartment we had sex, fucked,  and made love 7 or 8 times.  It was also the first time he told me he loved me.  He had written a note to me – more like a mini book.  It was the loveliest gift anyone had ever given, a tradition that began that year.  What I wouldn’t do to go back to that time and to experience feelings that I had finally found the one, and how wonderful it felt to have this wonderful man love me.

His modus operandi when he had done something wrong never changed in the five years we were together nor do I believe it was any different before I met him –  He never really apologized, and when he did there was always a lecture that went with it about his self confidence being high, which I read yesterday is common with covert narcissists, and after my not letting up and him spitting out a half ass apology he would then try to tell me why what he did wasn’t that big of a deal and then he would emotionally cut me off.

Sadly, Our blissful day turned out to be one of the darkest days in my life because I put my happiness in his hands. I remember my heart sinking as I stood across the kitchen counter while he tried to justify why I shouldn’t be upset over having caught him lying about spending Christmas with his ex wife and kids at his parents in Chicago because it was important to the ex wife.  This was one year of having been in a relationship with him and two years after they were separated.  I told him this would not work for me because there was a “we” now and I wanted the person I was with to be protective of me and our time and to focus on us and so if he was going to go then I wanted to lighten things up or end the relationship. Just like today he couldn’t deal and ended the conversation.

In an emotional admission of love he told me he told his ex he didn’t want her to be there. Well, sometime between our conversation and the upcoming weeks his mommy got involved and told the ex she could come, and given Vince’s lack of back bone and ability to stand up to his mom or his ex they spent x mas together.  During lunch that day he slipped talking about the trip and that’s when I learned he had lied, but instead of apologizing he turned on me faulting me for making a big deal out of nothing, saying he didn’t understand why I was upset since the ex didn’t really get what she wanted, and wasn’t there xmas morning.  In the same sentence he said something about looking forward to being with the next woman in his life.  Tears roll down my face thinking about it because it was at that very moment I was transformed from a woman to a little girl thinking I had done something wrong by making him accountable for lying and that I was going to lose him. If I had to do it all over again, I would have gotten my belongings and walked out wishing him luck. Instead I stayed.  I stayed even the following year when I learned the ex wife was there Christmas morning. Staying as long as I did shattered me emotionally, chipped away at my self respect, and sanity.



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