Evelyn looked around the home she shared with her husband. The home they had built together with despair. She had put her heart and soul into this place. She loved the peace and tranquility of it nestled unobtrusively in the countryside. It was her haven and it drew her like a drug, he professsed he had built it for her; Her dream come true and it was but how many other women had he said that to? For the first time in her life she felt she was building something worth having; something that was worth the fight the pain and the struggle she had been through, to get to this point. It had not been an easy journey she had given her trust like a small child trusts their parents. She had been naïve and now she was paying the price of her naivety. She was as she had been before, broken, spent and full of self-hatred. Wondering yet again what had brought her to this point in her life. She thought how there must be something intrinsically wrong with her, to keep returning to this outcome again and again.
The pain cut through her like a sharp knife slices through butter. Cutting her heart and soul wide open in a more painful way than any physical injury could have done. How could people be so cruel to each other? This was a question she had struggled with all her life. It had kept her awake at night and tormented her days. The human capacity for deception, betrayal and manipulation knew no bounds.
Didn’t he know how much she loved him? Why wasn’t she enough? She felt maybe that was what draw him to her, the unconditional love that he could control at whim. He needed that control like he needed air to breathe as much as she needed to please him, to save him. How could he, with her again, the woman who had ruined her life, career and took what little self-esteem she possessed. It was unfair to put all the blame on her doorstep she knew it took two to Tango; knew she was as vunerable as she was. She was just another victim of this cruel and devious manipulator she had married. They shared a lot of emotional characteristics after all. They had both been emotionally and sexually abused, both suffered with low self-esteem and were over eager to please; and both were now on anti-depressants to numb the pain. He had told her that she had said to him I am on antidpressents because of you, heard her emotional ranting. heard her need for him as deep as her own. She was 20 years younger, beautiful, with a figure to die for. How could she compete agaisn’t that ?
Hey, the reality was, he had made them both so happy they had to obtain a chemical lift just to get them through the day. What of this man who had ensnared them both? It was obvious for anyone to see he was a sexual predator, who derived some kind of sick pleasure from breaking women. From consciously and deliberately, reeling them both in like fish at the end of a fishing line.
Evelyn thought to herself, what made him like this, what turned him into this monster? She knew no woman would ever be enough for him he would always need that edge, that forbidden pleasure. Evelyn thought she knew the answer to that one. He Peter, had been torn between two parents that constantly fought and separated him from or one or the other parent. He was pulled between them all his life making him saintify his father and demonise his mother. Growing up with a mother who could not show him any physical affection; he grew into an adult who craved affection, needed his ego constantly stroked. He didn’t even have to lie to draw the women in, he just told them the truth. That he was pulled like a rag between two parents; sometimes living with one sometimes and at other times, another. He had been left in locked rooms as a child while his mother had countless affairs. Yes, he had learnt at the knee, how to be a heartless manipulator. Evelyn strongly suspected he was a sex addict.
Evelyn believed that something else had happened when he was a child, a significant event that had changed everything. Bereft of love he had cut off his emotional responses to stop the pain of rejection. The worse thing a parent can be to their child is to be indifferent to them and the damage always goes deeper, if it comes from the mother. He had experienced this and something deep inside him had broken. This experience had left him numb and unable to experience emotional pain like to rest of us. So he learnt to fake it and even to cry at will, what woman with a heart can resist a crying man. A man who on the surface is so loving, gentle and senstive to the needs of others. A man who is a constant victim of his own kindness and loving nature, who these cruel woman take advantage of?
He had perfected the art of how to become the perfect boyfriend, husband, and friend. He listened carefully to what his woman or others around him said and became their perfect man or friend. Over the years he perfected his arguments, behaviours and most importantly how to protect himself. How to get others to do the dirty work for him by demonising these women he was redemonising his mother. To all around him he was the victim of these women who he stayed with because he loved them believed in them. They all took advantage of him but he was careful to let others reach this conclusion on their own. Whilst he feigned loyalty to these women, while placing a few well chosen statements into the mix; to make sure they reached the conclusion he wanted them too. His friends would say to him leave, find someone new but he wouldn’t, he couldn’t; because he was enjoying the game too much that was where his self-worth came from, thinking he was always one step ahead of everyone. Believing he was cleverer than all those people around him.
Peter certainly had the edge over all of them. He was free of emotional baggage, for he felt nothing for no one. Yet, part of him was fascinated by people’s emotions and how far he could push them. How many lies he could tell before he was caught out, how complicated he could make the game.
After all that’s all it was for him, just a game to amuse himself with. The more twists and turns it took the better, the deeper and crueller the manipulation, the more pleasure he got from it. He loved his life everything was just where he wanted it, and it was playing out perfectly for him. What Peter didn’t realise was that he was destroying the same woman over and over again; his mother. The woman who had broken his heart and sealed it up all those years ago.
He was using these women to exact revenge upon his mother, the last woman he had ever felt anything for. Evelyn loved him so much more than was healthy she realised. She loved him more than she loved herself and was drawn in by his pain. It was an invisible beacon to her, she believed if she loved him enough unconditionally she could bring him back to life. That she could unfreeze his emotions. Just when she said enough is enough he would draw her back in again; with a illness or a emotional drama. He would tell her how much he needed her, that she was the only woman that had really loved him. She was powerless to resist like a moth to a flame. She needed his love, his tenderness, his sensitivity, his charm even though she knew it was all false, learnt, studied behaviour. She hated herself for her weakness for she knew eventually it would destroy her. Like an addict looking for the fix even though they are near death, she took the needle out and injected herself again. She was hot wired to please men because of her abusive history, she understood it intellectually but was unable to stop herself.
They had met 3 years ago and he had seemed the man of her dreams. Peter was kind, sensitive, generous, attentive, charming, and handsome. It was his inner beauty that had attracted her was his innate gentleness and kindness. As it was what she had been searching for all her life.
She had thought him a simple country man with good and honest morals who had like her been through a hard time. They had progressed quickly, too quickly, she now thought as she looked back. She remembered her mother’s words, if something seems too good to be true it normally is. She looked back now with clarity she did not possess then, at the facts.
They had met in the April and by the June (2 months after they had started dating) he was seeing another woman, an ex-girlfriend. A woman he had openly professed to have loved. Evelyn had seen what she thought was confirmation of this, in his eyes were the tears were ready to fall and she was drawn him even more) He said that she had rung him (always the victim never the perpetrator) that they were in the early days he was still in love with her, he couldn’t help himself. He said they kissed and cuddled but never had sex, he knew something was missing; and one day he just never turned up for a date they had made and that’s how it ended. Before when they were dating she would tell her mother to tell him she wasn’t in (he said he had heard her over the intercom) he wanted more contact she didn’t. (The draw you in part of the story, the part where you feel sorry for him and comfort him. Want to be the woman he seeks make him happy) Evelyn felt he only confessed as she would see the number in his phone bills. What he didn’t say was that she was a prostitute; and he met her as a client and then began to see her out of work. That confession didn’t come until Evelyn told him that was a cruel thing to do to end it like that and insisted he rang her and apologised. He put her the woman no 1, on loudspeaker and then abruptly, cut her off mid conversation (she must have been ready to say something that would have let the cat out of the bag; funnily enough, Evelyn didn’t catch that bit he was too quick for her …. read more