I clocked over 23 running miles last week in a 7-day period. Not bad for my first full week back on sturdy legs. I crave that endorphin rush like a drug – it washes over my body like a cold chill and makes everything tingle. Mmm…
And with every step, I cannot escape happiness and gratefulness. At last, I feel free. Free to run… free to be myself without the pain and shame of my former marriage. Free to make better choices for myself and for my children.
I realize that no matter how much blame I pile onto Mr. N/A, I chose him. And now I’m capable of making better choices all around.
I met someone online a couple of weeks ago who seemed more narcissistic than anyone I had ever met – perhaps to the degree of a personality disorder. I recognized the symptoms instantly, despite his exceptional looks and smarts and other attractive qualities. I found him an interesting case, and so I toyed with him for several days, like a cat with a trapped mouse.
I watched him turn to butter and soften when I gave him his narcissistic supply, telling him I’d never met anyone like him before, etc. (which was true, actually – he was scary). And when I withheld exceptional praise or assumed to be on the same level as he with regard to work or intelligence, I watched him rage and attempt, unsuccessfully, to control himself. It would have been a perfect case study.
And as I began to extricate myself from the chats and calls, he pursued more aggressively, until finally he bluntly said that if I were no longer interested, to please tell him. I replied that I have been very busy at work (true), that some of his reactions were concerning to me, and that I didn’t really think we’d make a very good match (also true).
In turn, I received the predictable raging response.
The whole thing was mesmerizing in a car-accident sort of way. Very interesting.
Meanwhile, my attention is currently focused on Europe. If there is such a thing as past lives, surely the Belgian and I must have shared a previous life-long relationship – an eternal love that transcends a lifetime.
Today we talked about the insanity of divorce, and he quoted a familiar ditty – the devil is in the details. So true. And I think we both better understand that mine took me to a very dark place that only time could illuminate.
And so, whether or not I ever see him again, the Belgian has been a positive source of healing – a gift from the Universe, both for myself and for my children, and I love him for that.