Love at First Nightmare P2: Three Questions, Three Lies
Updated: Jul 1
My heart was full, and I looked back at the worst heartbreak I'd ever known to date (a few years back) with the feeling that as brutal as that was it brought me to the love of my life.
Who knew? I lost my way to true love and he was mighty of heart, my protector. I felt so blessed. We spoke every chance we had. But then came the first sign of trouble.
We made lunch plans, one day for 2 p.m. He stood me up. I was confused and upset. He called to apologize and we kept talking, making more plans for lunch. My clue should have been that there never were dinner plans, but he'd always made some excuse. He kept very odd hours, and not night owl odd hours, something else. With the proposal of my life days behind me, there was little I wouldn't believe. We spoke of our children's children with a deep devotion to that future.
He showed up for the next lunch date, but something was starting to hit my gut wrong. He had wads of money, the odd hours he kept, his odd absences, and some of the ways he spoke about where he lived and why I couldn't go there...just started to hit me wrong.
He spoke of his therapist, Mike, and said he spent a lot of time at his house, in retreat-like sessions or stints, odd. Most therapists don't do that, but OK. I was taking him at his word, which was going to be proven worthless. He was still the man who loved me through the worst darkness I'd ever known. If I were thinking about that more rationally, I'd have reasoned that it was just a story and a few minutes and empty words without actions backing them.
That said, three questions were lingering in my spirit and persistently on my heart to ask him. I will never forget the day we sat at Cracker Barrel in my old neighborhood in Montclair, VA, and I told him I had three questions to ask him.
It was as if he had been asked them before, and was prepared to act out the answers.
TL, are you married?
Do you deal drugs?
Are you a drug addict?
His glare bore holes through me, not shifting right or left, as if trying to stay in character. He finished his chicken fried steak, I finished my grilled chicken salad. We got up. He kept his husky body around me. It was nice, and he kissed my forehead. Then, I saw him pull out that big wad of money and pay. I stayed silent but knew it was dirty money, somehow. My poker face was better than his.
The drug dealing, use, and abuse would be harder to prove, but his marital status I could find out, and would. I would expose him in the most glorious of ways.
I was on assignment for a government contractor, at a large agency and they put me up at a nearby hotel. On a break, I ran a search on his name and found his home in a Virginia suburb, with his wife, and a home phone number.
But TL was a primo liar and manipulator, I was learning. I was going to have to set a clever trap. So, back in my room, I called him on his mobile, where he claimed Mike was calling him into a session, in Maryland.
OK, I said. Love you. He responded, thinking he was getting away with lying.
As soon as he hung up, I called his Springfield home number, somehow knowing he'd be the one picking up. He did.
Hello there, So you're in Maryland, huh? This is a landline to a Springfield number and to the home you share with your wife.
"Never call me again." He nearly threw a toddler's tantrum. I was laughing and crying on the inside.
Oh, you don't have to worry about it, you lying bastard. You lied to me...about everything. I know. Everything, absolutely everything. Asshole.
I hung up.
A couple of days later as I was driving to a job, my mobile rang. It was him. He had something to say, and a few things to admit, and none of which I'd come to understand was because he was a "good man." I was just not easy to lie to. My friends started calling me McGruff the Crime Dog because I wasn't just intuitive but I looked for and would not stop looking for proof of what I felt until I found it. Then I'd either give the person a chance to come clean--or present them with evidence. My warning is always, "Do not lie to me. I will dream your shit, and then it will be over." Just tell the truth, and don't be a TL, might be the morale of this story...
At that time, my spiritual gifts were growing, and I knew I was right about him. I took steps to protect myself, so he wasn't the only one with something to say, and he wasn't going to like it...
P3 coming soon...