Eleven years ago, I met the man who would keep me up at night for many years to come. He was gorgeous, affectionate, and sensual. I had never before nor after met someone so attuned to my physical needs and desires. Long nights of incredible love-making, though, would be followed by weeks of uncertainty, doubt, and turmoil.
I recently had the epiphany that our entire "relationship" was an elaborate ruse. The truth only came out after several months, when a bystander to our situation forced the issue. To this day, I wonder if I had never been anonymously contacted would he have ever disclosed his lived reality. Yet knowing the truth, I made the obligatory excuses to stay with him. Every plea for more time together was met with excuses. And when things soured between us, I was the one made to feel that it was my fault, that I had done something wrong.
Yet for years, I still longed for his touch, his attention, his approval. For despite all the noise, I couldn't get his caress, his kiss, his embrace out of my mind. Damn an expert gaslighting narcissist.
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