Tell Me It is True
I told you I loved you. That was not a lie. I meant it when I said it. I meant it every time that I said it, wrote it, messaged it, voice mailed it, gifted it and e-mailed it. I knew how to portray it. That wasn’t hard. There is so much material available for me to know what to say, how to say it, what to do and how to do it. I have seen it when it has been directed at me time and time again. All I had to do was mirror it. I have had enough people fall under my spell and love me so that I recognise love when I see it. It became simple enough to replicate it. My intentions really were noble. I wanted to love you and I gave you the love that I knew that you wanted. I did enough to fathom out how you wanted to be loved. Goodness knows I put in the spadework. I observed you and saw who you interacted with. I followed you to the places you frequented and noted what you ordered most often to eat and to drink. I sat behind you on the bus one time and saw the book that you read. I recognised the author so I went and bought three other of her titles and displayed them at home in readiness to show you and to let you borrow those which you had not read yet. I dispatched a Lieutenant to chat you up and gather more information for me to collate and consider. I trawled the internet looking for your footprints. I sat up late as my phone buzzed and pinged with the messages from other prospects that I was cultivating but I made them wait as I searched for you. I found you and using a reliable false profile in the name of a friend of the opposite sex to me I managed to secure your online friendship. I did not approach you directly, despite the cloak of anonymity. I preferred to walk like a ghost through your cyber world, observing your photographs and establishing the places where they were taken. I noted who your friends were, I highlighted potential competitors and I discerned who your family are. I took in the YouTube postings and when they were timed which told me you enjoyed a few glasses of wine in the evening on your own as you posted musical memories from your teenage years. I walked through your posts and your comments, picking up snippets of information that detailed your devotion to romance, your love of small dogs and your dislike of the cold. Like a silent, vast machine I remained your unseen companion for a month as I sucked up as much information as I could in order to build a picture of you and how you wanted to be loved. Each meme you posted gave me a clue. Every discussion with your friends added further layers as I created the person that would love you. I uploaded to him your interests and made them his. I bolted on the necessary skill sets which would please you. I furnished him with the choice phrases that you wanted to hear. I configured his actions, expressions, behaviours and more that would make him provide you with the love that you wanted to much and once all of this considerable preparatory work was complete I began my seduction.
I loved you. I loved you with passion, desire, attentiveness, excitement, mystery and kindness. All created from the morass of information that I had gathered about you which was layered onto my existing experience from previous relationships and my knowledge of how love operates in the world. I know that it worked. You fell for me hook, line and sinker and you became enveloped in my creation where you flourished, you shone and you bloomed. Your happiness radiated from you like sunbeams, the pleasure you took in us being together was tangible and all of those around us commented as such. It was marvellous, spectacular, wonderful and perfect.
You had no idea that my love was a creation. Why would you when not only did it match your concept of love but driven by my excellence it exceeded it? Why would you challenge something that felt so golden and so glorious? You would not. I gave you this love and you returned it. It was a match made in heaven. It was a transaction that suited us both. You received my scintillating synthetic love and you gave me the love that sustains me, that emotion infused reaction which powers and sustains me. We both were winners.
Was it such a bad thing that what I gave you was a fabrication if it looked like the real thing? I might even go so far as to say that it was even better than the real thing. Am I to be regarded as a bad person for this fraudulent act. Is it not the case that my deceit pleased you? Yes, you did not know about this deceit, you had no awareness of the fabrication but that caused you no harm did it? You saw and you believed and seeing is believing surely?
When I took you in my arms, shielding you from the black day that you had emerged from and you looked into my eyes and saw the love, the devotion and the optimism that burned there, did it really matter that I was mirroring what you showed me so long as it made you happy, elated and feel loved? My optimistic eyes were your optimistic eyes.
When I unleashed my hatred you could not and still do not understand how someone could treat you like that when that person kept saying that he loved you.
It was easy to switch to this vicious malevolence. It was easy to peel back the veneer that was the manufactured love. It was easy to switch off the creation that I made that provided you with this perfect love. A flick of a switch and he ceased to exist, leaving you with something else instead.
I did not lie when I said that I loved you.
I did not lie when I whispered that I loved you.
I did not lie when I shouted that I loved you.
I just did not tell you the truth.
The truth that I never felt love for you.
Because I cannot do that.
26 thoughts on “Tell Me It is True”
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I’m late to the party, but catching up….. You write amazingly HD. I am 6 months post separation after 10 yrs with a (I think mid level) narc. He recognizes the addiction and willingly admits it. I doubt he would ever say He fabricated the love though I am beginning to see the truth. As ab Empath, we ALWAYS do. Even if it takes decades.
Thank you and welcome. It is HG, not HD.
HG, I am part way through “No Contact” and there has been a question that has been bugging me. There is only one type of thing he has of mine that he might be able to use, either to manipulate or in a smear campaign, and I can’t think of any way to retrieve them – because they are digital items, and even if I had access, I’m sure he has backups. I think you catch my drift 🙂 I’m pretty sure you discuss this issue in one of your posts or books, could you direct me to where?
Hello KP, the use and potential use of such items is repeatedly mentioned in Sex and the Narcissist. You will find the relevant parts in the chapter which deals with Sex in the Devaluation Stage. You may also be interested in my next book “Smeared: Knowing and Beating the Narcissist’s Campaign” which will be out Tuesday.
I will be the first one 😜
Thanks HG, looks like I’ve got a lot of reading to do
Well I just read the chapter.. So basically there’s nothing I can do. Which is what I figured anyway. I guess I was hoping there was something I hadn’t thought of.. I just know this is going to haunt me. If I go NC and that’s the only tool he has left, he’ll use it, but it could be anytime, even years from now. . This is the worst.
There is something you can do. See the countering chapter in the new book – Smeared and if still uncertain what to do come back to me and I will advise further.
So the end result is this contradictory existence with a looming internal battle between denial of being conned and acceptance of this real truth. You can’t feel love even though you said and displayed it over and over. We just want to go back to the golden period where ignorance was bliss and innocent for us.
The fraudster thing !! Well that makes it nice and clear HG ! wow !!
I just don’t think I’ll ever not grieve for those that cannot give real love or receive it. It saddens me, deeply.
I’m further saddened by those of us that can and do so, with all of their heart, and feel so much loss before they learn to redirect their love, towards those that can truly be loved.
It all a lesson in personal growth. I just wish there weren’t so many individuals that are so affected by their various developmental trauma…and then many so often retraumatize others due to the effects of said trauma; whether intentionally or not.
Its just a vicious circle that often passes on through the generations. I wish it was simpler to heal those affected with the unconditional love they needed, at the crucial time the damage occured.
I understand the post.
I’m just saddened by witnessing the creation of many N’s, some co dependents and quite a few Cluster B type individuals. I witnessed their innocence and in many, their unconditional love disappear. No wonder they know little other world than you do HG.
Sorry…I grieve for their loss everytime I see them sabotage (unintentionally and otherwise) any true love that comes their way; in order to survive/thrive in their mind.
And some of their babies are now being created in the exact same way… 😢
CE
It’s hard when we feel for others so much no matter what. Something that really helped me in setting clear boundaries was this, ‘it is well known that the length of time that a person can stay in the water without succumbing to exhaustion and exposure …….has limits …. The tale of needless sacrifice in the history of swimming is a long one wherein heroism displayed had availed nothing ……. Novice and even very good swimmers frequently find they their ability to make a rescue does not equal their good intent and they either break away with great difficulty or drown with them’
Truth right there, indeed! ❤Alexissmith2016
I understand that you don’t feel love HG. But do you feel addicted to us in the beginning ? The way we do at the end ?
Because I’m not sure we feel real love for you either. We were tricked into it, therefore it’s not real is it ?
It’s not the same as real love ? Just an addiction. You just move onto a different addiction like changing brands of beer or something or switching from beer to gin or ale ?
I am addicted to my need for your fuel. You give real love but as you identify it is given under false pretences. The money you pay a fraudster is still real money, just given under false pretences.
Yes it was sad to read this…. It was what I felt after the ” word movie” ended.
Boom
shakala
You know that was exactly what I said aloud after reading boom. I will complete it however with the second Boom
Ha ha. What about a shake the room?
Well the rumble of course was felt before the formation of the boom and by the time it arrived here, I was already dancing on its waves. Shimmy Shimmy
It is the deception that leaves the deepest scar.
So true Bethany, so deep I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again . I’m mentally scarred by it, still hurting deeply months on . It feels like I’ll never recover …..
The End.
Yes, this realization is The End. When our soul, heart and mind cannot UNSEE the incongruencies between the words, the actions and the facade. As difficult as it is to reach this point, the good good news is that when we do, we find our freedom.