Love and predation in times of Corona (part 3/3)

A queen of justice

She contacted me a few weeks later. She had seen the tweet where I asked Y if he had anything smart or cultured to say about ghosting me after five months of relationship. I had it two days later, for fear he would use it against me. But she had had time to read it, and she was startled.

We spoke. She had been dating Y for two years in Minneapolis. They were in a relationship. He had the keys to her apartment. He promised her that they were going to be singular and live together right at the time when he asked me to stay with him for as long as possible. He read Anaïs Nin to her, showered her with compliments, loved in her the same qualities that I possessed and which he was totally lacking: her authenticity, sincerity, gentleness and kindness. He often disappeared but would always come back with a good explanation. With eyes filled with love and desire.

He contacted her when he returned from Tennessee. “Honey I’ll be home Tuesday”. She told him she never wanted to see him again. She told him our story. He acted innocent, naive. Confronted with the truth, he didn’t ask her for forgiveness. Just as he had done with me, he reversed the roles. She was not being objective. I was an emotionally unstable woman. She did not offer to be pragmatic. She was hurting him. She wanted to believe bad things about him. He was angry, restless, sarcastic, victimized, couldn’t stand being exposed. A naked monster.

Angels, warriors and healing

She thanked me for saving her, and I thanked her for avenging me. We cut off all contact with him. As we began to mourn a dream and heal, our friendship grew. We both understood that we had a share of responsibility.

We were understanding, full of empathy and kindness. We had difficult stories behind us, a dream of love, a way of wholly loving without lies and games. We were always ready to bear all the weight on our shoulders, to give the benefit of the doubt. We were perfect preys for such a narcissist.

Our beauty and kindness had attracted him. We were well educated, intelligent, affectionate — women in whose company time was delightful, and with whom being in a relationship gave a feeling of intoxication and powerful satisfaction. And we weren’t going to forsake that. We were going to assert it. It is also because of those qualities that we are a prey for narcissists like him.

Out of kindness and benevolence, drawn by the dream of love, we had brushed aside a feeling of uneasiness that had struck us several times whilst in his company. This vague feeling, so hard to describe, is often felt by the body before it makes sense in the mind. That feeling that something is wrong. It is there to warn us of danger, and to protect us. It is often difficult to acknowledge, because it is in total contradiction with the love construction we are caught up in. Sometimes it also blends in with old fears, inherited from past traumas. So we think we are overcoming these fears and regaining power when we sweep it away. And yet we have to trust it. Our soul, our heart, our body, each one keeps the memories of our wounds and when they send this signal, it is to preserve us from future sufferings, invisible to our eyes but striking to theirs.

I began my healing. I had to leap into the depths of my suffering