Strange isn’t it, that moment when you realize the person you’ve lived with, had a child with, shared yourself with for almost 18 years is not the person you thought they were. That moment of clarity for me didn’t happen with a thunderbolt. It was a willingness on my part to no longer accept the denial. Little by little, I was seeing the cracks in the facade. Little turned into more and more turned into a deluge. Then it was as if everything had smashed to pieces. Everything I had worked for, built up in my life, was turning to ashes in my hands.
At first all he could tell me was nice things. When I first met him, my husband had just passed away. I transferred into a field job with my company. (What is it they say about too many life changes in a short period of time?) He was one of twenty other guys on the crew. He zeroed in on me. I really didn’t want to get involved with anyone but he was relentless. Even went so far as to say we were soul mates! Now I see how psychopaths operate. But I am ahead of myself. At that point, I was hurting from my loss and vulnerable and open. My husband had died from a disease that had (has) alot of stigma attached to it and I know at that time, everyone knew it. I wanted to be liked, I wanted people not to avoid me thinking that I had the disease also. I wasn’t alright by a long mile at that time. I was emotionally and mentally not ready to get involved with someone else. But his attention, and his stories of the hurt in his life pulled at me.
Within a year, he had moved into my house.