Untangled 26: the Lone Star State

When I noticed I had been unfriended and asked why, he said it was because Facebook causes too much trouble in relationships. I was flabbergasted—he legit thought the problem was that I saw it, not that he did it. This could explain why I saw no old girlfriends on his page. He unfriends or blocks them as soon as they start asking questions. Many of today’s bargain-basement Casanovas use social media as a big dating pool, but the more wretched ones get rid of anyone who could expose them. It really didn’t matter; I had bigger fish to fry.

Two days before I was set to leave Illinois, he stopped me in the hall and said, “So, I’m moving to Texas too.” I froze and immediately replied, “You cannot live with me.” He said, “I found my own place, I don’t need to stay with you.” I said, “Well, I wish you all the best,” and kept doing what I was doing. I thought, Texas is a big place—what are the chances of him being anywhere near me anyway? He later asked if he could share the U-Haul with me. I told him I didn’t think that was a good idea. He said, “I’ll drive if you cover the gas and U-Haul.” I said I would think about it, knowing the answer would be no. Still, after all he had done, I had a hard time saying no. I realized that was a pattern. I had a hard time saying no to anyone—that was the people-pleaser in me, unfortunately.

Before I left, I wanted to tell my mom goodbye and drop some stuff off with her. He said he would come to help carry the furniture pieces up to her place. I accepted his help.

After my mom found out he was going to Texas, she pleaded with me to let him drive me. She was understandably nervous about me driving to a state I had never been to alone. She also thought we should just go ahead and get married—that was laughable. He had been the perfect man in front of her. My whole family had met him, and they all thought he was so loving. This was partly my fault—I only told them the good and reshaped the bad in my mind. My mom didn’t know who he really was and that he had zero plans of marrying me. I’ve since learned that some narcissists marry quickly, and others string you along with no intention of marrying you—he was in the latter category. They don’t mind wasting time as long as they’re benefiting in some way.

This was after the blowout, so I knew I was scheduled for a “love pop,” and true to form, he pulled out that old mask and forgot that I knew the real him. Oh, he was the perfect gentleman! He was nice, agreeable, and even playful. It was like he had a switch he could flip when he felt I was wising up. That was fine because I was making nice too—just until I got to the Lone Star State. I did, however, decide to let him drive because I didn’t know how to hitch a trailer and hadn’t done a long-haul drive like that in a while.

I sold the old Lexus a week before leaving and had the money from long-time clients to help me start my new life. Two days before the scheduled move, I felt an urgency to leave a day sooner than planned, so I did. When we got outside of Illinois, my brother texted to tell me that the police were shutting down roads in and out of town because of the BLM rioters coming in. God was leading me yet again—boy, does He love us.

The drive down was as expected. I was on my phone while he drove, with his phone hidden in the driver’s door pocket like normal. He didn’t talk to me any other time, so this was no different and was actually welcomed. About seven hours in, I took the opportunity to ask him again, “Why? Why would you target me?” He said he didn’t target me and that I shouldn’t believe my friends—they might be after him. He hinted that we should start over down there. I told him I would think about it, knowing I was alone with him in the car and unsure where his head was. I had no intention of ever being with him. Now all I had to do was erase from my mind the version of him I created and face the fact that who he showed me is who he truly is.