When I come along in my luxurious and expensive motor vehicle it is too difficult to resist that open passenger door and you hop in without hesitation. I won’t be taking you for a gentle drive through undulating countryside nor for a meandering excursion along the coast. No. It is straight to the motorway. You are pinned back in your seat by the sudden acceleration as we speed away. You let out a laugh, delighted by the surge of excitement as I move straight into the fast lane and the speedometer needle climbs as we go faster and faster. It is exhilarating to be driven along by such a confident and masterful driver.

The motorway I take you on has been purpose built for me. It cuts through the landscape, not going around or under or over but straight through. There are no obstacles for my motorway. It is direct and effective. Its construction bludgeoned everything else out of the way as it made its mark on everything around it. Nothing could stop it as mile after mile it stretched across the land. Nothing gets in the way of my motorway.

You marvel at how quickly it takes you to so many different places. You smile as you press your nose to the glass and watch the signs flash past ‘Desire’,’Heaven’,’Excitement’ and ‘Delight’ are all signposted. My motorway takes you to these places in a matter of moments and no sooner have we visited one place then we are back on my motorway, speeding through the night to the next location. The motorway takes us direct to the best restaurants, the most exotic destinations, the concerts where it enables us to drive right up to the front of the stage and the hitherto exclusive and difficult places you always tried to reach are suddenly in front of you, all courtesy of this expansive motorway network.

My motorway never has traffic jams, is free of roadworks and always takes the most direct route to the destination. It is breath-taking how fast we travel along it, yet you always feel safe, content in the knowledge that I am taking care of you on this modern and well-maintained transport route.

Occasionally you see people that you recognise stood on the hard shoulder. Some of your family who watch as we speed by. You see your friends who are parked to one side as we race along. You raise a hand to wave to them but it is too late. We have already rushed by them leaving them far behind, just a passing blur. You are not concerned however as you see the next sign detailing our destination and the anticipation rises as you await your arrival at this glamorous place. All thoughts of family, friends and supporters have been left behind, as quickly as we drove past them.

Sometimes you think you see a warning sign flash on one of the overhead gantries but I am driving so fast along this wide motorway that you cannot be sure.

“Did that say danger ahead?” you ask as we zip underneath another illuminated sign.

“Oh it just a routine test, you do not need to worry about that,” I smile and you are instantly reassured. You settle back in your seat as the world and your life flashes by but you are too focussed on what lies ahead at the next destination to worry about what is passing you by. This is the ride of your life and you never want it to stop.

The car suddenly brakes to a halt. Tyres squeal and smoke drifts past as the vehicle violently stops. You lurch forward in your seat and almost bang your head on the dashboard. Disorientated you right yourself as the passenger door opens.

“Out you get,” I instruct. The smile is gone and is now replaced by a face you barely recognise as I stare ahead.

“Sorry? What?” you splutter in confusion.

“Time to go. You need to go that way,” I state aggressively and point behind you.

“What do you mean? Why have we stopped? I don’t understand,” you protest.

“Out!Out! Out! ” I bark and suddenly frightened you scramble out of the car and stand trembling on the tarmac.

“Your life is back that way,” I add as the passenger door slams shut and you watch as I roar off up a slip road next to a large sign saying “Fuel this way”.

You watch me disappear from view and then turn to face the silent and empty motorway which stretches away into the far distance. You start walking, confused and upset.

The walk back to your life is just like my motorway.

Dark grey and long.


16 thoughts on “Passenger”

  1. Wow H.G., this is post is cold…cold as ice. I will say I am happy my mid-range narcissist doesn’t even want me in the car with him lol😄. I’m isolated in the house, with his flying monkey.

  2. That motorway experience is countless. Real motorways, real events and real abrupt screeching brakes after seething fury. Someone had to pay the price I guess, literally. Feel good fuel of rejecting and abandoning another for what spins around the motorway mind of the narcissist. The walk back to life is full of beauty and sunshine, the storms are temporary refreshing relief that cleanses the dust off the animals in pastures and provides them with nutrition and life. New birth and growth, calls us to that place we call home.

  3. I was amazed at how alienated I had become from family and friends during my 6 year road trip up the highway with my ex-wife. I am glad I got out of the car when I did.

  4. I always thought of a passenger allegory with regard to the narcissist too.

    His ex-fiancé was a ship – no doubt there was another ship before her, where he jumped from that ship to hers. She didn’t appreciate him, you see.

    Then he met his to-be wife and jumped from the fiancé’s ship to the new wife. The ex-fiancé didn’t appreciate him, you see.

    Then he met me and harangued me into moving in with him. From his stories I could only see him as a passenger so I gave no commitments and said ‘you move out on your own, and we’ll see.’

    Of course I failed. I needed to be a ship because the old one was sinking and he needed to refuel.

    And guess what? I don’t appreciate him. Why would I? He’s a parasite and my ship has no space stowaways.

  5. This is perfect.

    I have a question about “fuel.”

    You’ve said you derive fuel from other people’s emotional expressions and reactions. But – most humans react to other people’s emotional expressions. Someone’s smile makes me smile; someone crying makes me feel sad, etc. That is empathy or compassion.

    But what is fuel? A surge of adrenaline? A feeling of power? Do you not feel (or notice) the other possible emotions?

    1. Hello Karin, it is a feeling of power. The knowledge that we are the catalyst for your emotional response creates fuel which in turn empowers me. You see someone crying and you feel sad. I do not. I feel nothing for them UNLESS their tears are caused by me or are for me and then I feel power.

  6. In 9 years he nearly saw any tears from me…..The last weekend I was crying about something in my life he had nothing to do with…..then I felt his supressed rage and saw his black eyes…….he said: “i want to be seen by you, when you are not there I am neither…I can look in the mirror, but that’s not the same, I want to be seen by you”

    HG, maybe because he didn’t cause the tears, made him so angry?
    And the fact that he saw my weakness?

  7. this is a really powerful piece HG! I remember being told: Don’t get involved with me – you will be a wreck but I will go off into the sunset. Is scoffed it off… still not sure if he is an N or not.. but something here rings true..


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