Dear Kyle,

I find it ironic that I began to know the real you when we came to an end.

The man I loved died on June 29, 2016.  Actually, you likely died long before that…but the man I knew as the ‘love of my life’ died when I realized that you could utter the words ‘I love you’, while you destroyed my heart, my love, and left the life we built in shambles…leading me to carry in in the rubble of your absence.

Make no mistake…I did love you.  I still love the you who painted yourself to be with me, so you could extract from me the fruits of my work, my emotional support, and my mental energy.  I loved the man you faked in order to be with me. 

But I hate the man you actually are.

You say ‘I love you’ with so much sincerity at times, it’s easy to believe.  My heart aches for your children who get the byproduct of your fake love.  I wish to God I’d been smarter when you appeared on my doorstep to return to my life.  I wished I’d been able to listen to my inner voice that said something wasn’t right.  What kind of a morally bankrupt person leaves his own children, who did nothing to deserve your abandonment, in order to live out your fantasy of a responsibility-free life.  They did absolutely nothing to deserve your turned back, nor did they ever ask for it.  (Had they had input, I’m sure they would have preferred their sperm donor not be a soulless, black-hearted monster who only walks the earth to use those who cross his path.)

It always bothered me how you could seemingly cast them aside.  Of course, your ‘selfless’ reason of not wanting to put the kids through turmoil between you and your ex-wife made some sense…but didn’t fit with the man I thought you to be.  You made it painfully clear that the subject was not to be discussed.  I learned to drop it.  I never agreed with it…and I know the day will come when the day to day responsibilities of parenting and attempting to be a good role model will wear you down again, your wanderlust will take over, and the children will be abandoned again.   I know it as sure as I am sitting here – you leave those you purport to love when they no longer serve your purpose of the moment.  It’s the one thing those who have loved you can count on:  That you will leave them.

I will never understand why you chose to leave when you did.  I can only assume it’s because, as a Narcissist, you knew that I was financially nervous, your lies were catching up to you, and bailing – your go-to option, was the time to do it with maximum destruction.  I don’t understand why, when I supported you, literally and figuratively, all those years, that you felt the need to leave me alone, broke, and emotionally crushed.  Why couldn’t you just say ‘Hey…moving on?’  It would have been so much easier.  It was the least I deserved.

But you needed the rush of seeing how completely you could destroy another person.  One who gave you all you ever asked for, and more.  One who defended you when your actions seemed indefensible.  One who stood by you when, literally, everyone else in your life went away.  That, however, was not enough for you, and never will be.  You had to leave me with no warning, right before a vacation you knew I looked forward to, and when my responsibilities as a homeowner drained me of what little financial reserve I’d built up after years of supporting us both.  You knew the stress of my mother’s illness was becoming overbearing for me and I might actually need you to provide support you were never able, nor willing, to give.

But I realized something, as I try and make sense of this cruelty delivered by the hand of the man I held so dear.  You did kill a large part of me that day when you exited the world we build.  You killed the part of me you created.  You killed the weak-willed, trembling, scared-of-you-disapproval woman.  You slayed the nervous, worrying creature that lived in fear of your disappointment.

What was left is who I was before you reentered my life.  I am strong.  I am capable.  And I am wise.  You did your best to destroy that part of me…but it was actually stronger than you.  Yes, you built quite a fortress around her.  You hid her under years of lies, half-truths, and deception all designed to craft an image that the parts of me that didn’t doubt you allowed themselves to grow.  Like weeds on a untended garden, they choked off so much of the vegetation of me.  I was so confounded by your lies, and believed in the illusion you created, I didn’t tend to my inner beds as I should have, and the overgrowth nearly covered the best parts of me.

Alas, the man who always boasted of winning lost that battle.  You failed miserably in killing off the parts of me that now grow strong.  I’m clearing out the weeds of my life with you, and the light that hits those parts of me still alive are growing stronger, day by day.  Your lies that still occasionally creep into my life after your exit no longer hurt me.  They only feed the stronger parts of me that continue to grow as I realize your toxicity is a thing of my past. 

I smile when I realize that you did not, ultimately, succeed at my expense.

Yes, you hurt me.  Yes, I have been setback.  Yes, I grieve the life I envisioned we were building that is now dead and buried.  However…you did NOT break me.  You did NOT kill me.  And you did NOT win the final battle.  You retreated, like a coward.  You tried on a new life that, if there is any appreciation of truth in your dark, empty soul, you know is doomed to fail.  A life built on lies, by it’s very nature, cannot sustain itself.  Your lies will ultimately be your undoing.  You and I share that knowledge – although I am the only one who likely fully realizes it.

So enjoy your new life, how you can, while you can.  I am going to enjoy mine.  I am going to enjoy filling it with all the love, joy and fulfillment that you were incapable of providing.  Your life will follow the same pattern it always has – Sweep in, swoop down, destroy, and vanish.  It’s what you’ve mastered in almost half a century in this world, and you are so small minded that you can’t see how it is going to guarantee your future will be a dark and lonely one.

I wish you the best of luck, my former love.  Luck is the only way you will ever succeed in your way of life.

The problem is…luck always runs out.

Good Riddance, my sweet,

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Author: narcaholicblog

I am in the early stages of recovery from live with a Narcissist, and want to share what I learn as I educate myself to these insidious personality types that walk among us. Please...if possible, please learn from my mistakes as I share them.

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