Untangled 40: Début de la fin

My birthday falls at the end of November, right before the holiday season. Unfortunately, the holidays don’t stop just because you’re having a minor life crisis. I just wasn’t in the mood to cook a big dinner or play happy couple. We were anything but that—we were back in the motions stage. He ignored me the day after the birthday fiasco because he knew I would want to address it. For him, if enough time passes, that means I’ve forgiven and forgotten. That was also my punishment for not being grateful for my 80s ankle bracelet and his company. He returned to his routine of obligatory visits two days after my birthday. He didn’t care that we didn’t communicate or even like each other. I know now that I was his main supply—his supply of encouragement, trips, dinner, and a car to drive. He had no real affinity toward me because narcissistic men dilute their attraction with numerous sources of supply. This is how they guard their heart. I had no solid proof of infidelity, but I didn’t need it. His disconnecting the phone from the car when I was in it and it always being face down on silent told me all I needed to know. Narcissists don’t just lie; they also cheat.

I decided to go ahead and cook for Thanksgiving because my daughter was still living with me at the time. He came by for an hour or so to eat and then left to be with his daughter, who had moved in with him a couple of months prior. I began to plan my final exit around Christmas. Christmas Day was particularly horrible. He came over at 10:30 a.m.; we had breakfast and exchanged gifts. He gave me a really nice purse, a Yurman bracelet, two pairs of shoes, and sleepwear. I was puzzled. The excuse he had used for years for not buying me a ring was that he was sick, then that I needed to wait until after he got out of school, and then that he didn’t have the money yet. All of that was another lie. The items in front of me were worth over a thousand dollars. Also, if you really want to marry a woman, a band will do. It doesn’t take money to get married—I knew that. I told myself that, and with that small truth, I had another moment of clarity. It’s not that he didn’t have the means to get married; he just had no plan to ever marry me. Then, like a ton of bricks, another realization hit me: this man hated me. He didn’t like me as a person, and he was jealous of me. He didn’t like that people liked me. He didn’t like that I was encouraged and supported on social media. He didn’t like that I was positive and had dreams. His job was to destroy me. I would have to temper my good news because telling him good news would ruin his day. If I was happy, he was sad. If I had a business idea, he would shoot holes in it. He saw me as competition, and I saw him as a partner.

All at once, I knew he hated me. This revelation shifted my attitude and shut my mouth. I had been, figuratively, sleeping with the enemy. He felt the shift and said he was heading out. Of course he was, because he would never ask me what was wrong with me. I could be sitting in tears, and he would ignore me completely. That pile of gifts was my consolation prize for not ever getting a ring or married. What it boiled down to is that I was trading my future for dinners, company, and designer purses.

I got a nice respite when my sister and brother-in-law came to town at the end of January for a visit. He was on his best behavior, of course. I was preoccupied with them, so I had no time to have any deep conversations with him. After they left, we picked right back up with the motions for the next few months. He was on his best behavior. In his mind, I had no reason to leave him because he had done nothing wrong. He helped me during COVID, he walked Zoey every day, he took out the trash, and he didn’t yell at me. He thought that was what made a good relationship. He didn’t know I was starved for communication, for companionship, and for human touch. There was no hugging, kissing, holding hands, or anything. I remember vividly accidentally brushing against him while passing in the kitchen and how he jumped. That made me feel awful. He was repulsed by me. I was single in every sense of the word but was still in this pseudo-relationship with my antagonist.

When March rolled around, I sent notice to the leasing office that I would be moving out. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to downsize, and I wanted to start fresh. My daughter had gone back to Chicago, and I needed a space with a backyard for Zoey. I didn’t want his help walking her while I was working. I found a new complex with tiny apartment homes 5 miles from my salon. I loved them so much that I completed the application before I left the property. The leasing agent gave me a bottle of white wine as a thank-you for coming to tour. I took the wine home even though I don’t drink. The bottle was on my kitchen counter when he came over that evening. He asked where it came from, so I told him I had signed a lease for a new apartment and would be moving in to start fresh on June 1st. He rolled his eyes, sat in his chair, and played a game on his phone.