One More Time

one-more-time

Awful isn’t it? Long and empty days that are full of nothing. The mental calendar which each day causes the caustic reminder of what we did with you last month and this time last year. The sweet memories of that glorious golden period when everything was bathed in golden light, coated in sugar and tasted of honey.

Was it only a month ago that we told you that despite everything that had happened that we still loved you? You fought back the tears as those wonderful words spilled from our lips, just as they had done on so many ecstatically happy occasions in the past. Yes, we might have uttered them after another barnstorming battle between you and I, but there, in that instant, the words were said our eyes shone and in an instant we transported you back to those heady and halcyon days of when we first got together.

A year ago the memories come thick and fast, each one a surge of excitement which is then immediately ripped away from you as you realise it is but a memory. The remembrance of our lips locked together as we stood that cold December evening in the town square, the cobblestones frosting and the sounds of other people dim in the background as the fairy tale began.

My, what a wonderful time it was. The twin combination of falling in love and the run-up to Christmas. It was magical. New friends that we introduced you to, exciting times laughing and running through the streets hand in hand to stop at an alleyway and kiss. Oh how we kissed.

The polite introductions to family and sneaking from one bedroom to another whilst staying there over the Christmas period, entwining in one another’s arms and moving together as you drowned in our eyes and the promise you saw there.

The first gift you ever received from us. You have it still, sat on the nightstand by your bed, a hurtful reminder of better times. You still kiss the head of the stuffed toy every night as the memories surge.

You can remember each and every day from the beginning of the whirlwind romance. Where we met during work hours, the first time you stayed at our house, the first time we had dinner at yours. New horizons, landmark events from the minor to the major but all of importance as you systematically and subconsciously logged these occurrences so that you have been able to call on them now.

Now as you sit enshrined in emptiness, our words be they loving or harsh but an echo and our ghost drifting about these rooms which once sounded to our laughter, our passion and our arguments.

It has all gone. The joy and the jealousy have dissipated when we walked away from you and then there was nothing. Silence. Unimpeachable silence.

You cannot stand this nothingness. Everything has become grey. You find no satisfaction in anything. Well-meaning friends have sought to lift you from this despair but nothing has worked. The suggested trips to the cinema, to the lake, to the shopping mall, to dinner at their houses; they have all been rejected because nothing feels the same. There is nothing now. No hatred, no love, no passion, no laughter. Overnight somebody has come and stolen the colour from the world and left with just an overwhelming grey. It was hellish at the time but you would still have the rows, the fights and the accusations because at least then you could feel something. You felt that we still cared because after all why else would we erupt in a temper, slam the doors and throw things around if we did not feel something for you? Surely it was precisely because we cared so much about you that we did all of those things.

Yes it hurt. But the hurt felt so good.

Whether it was the spontaneous lovemaking, the unpredictable gift, the bewildering argument out of nothing or the litany of lies which had you tearing your hair out, at least it was something. Life was never dull. Never.

You felt alive and on a scale that you had not known before. Everything was brighter, bolder and more magnificent. Each day was full of promise and excitement. Tears of joy or tears of despair, it did not matter because we made you feel alive and beyond anything you had previously experienced. The world became a dazzling, vibrant and exciting place. Sometimes you soared, sometimes you plummeted but it was all better than this, better than this barren wilderness.

The songs you once enjoyed listening to are an offence to your ears so you would rather not listen. Clothing appears drab and uninteresting so you leave them in the wardrobe and draws and pull on your 21st century equivalent of sackcloth and continue to mourn the loss of us and our electricity.

Food is tasteless, like ash in your mouth, the conversation of friends a stale monotone which you tune out as you reach into your memory and try to rekindle the blazing rows that you had with us before we kissed. It was hammer and tongs in the living room and then hands and tongues in the bedroom. Passion in war. Passion in love.

You crave a return to those times in order to feel something, anything. Anything which will be better than being numb, listless and disconnected. Nothing is all there is now and nothing is not good enough. You want to feel, you want that addictive, sensuous, mesmerising rollercoaster of an existence again with us. You do not care that we would break your heart and leave you sobbing, the times when we returned with love shining in our eyes and apologies tumbling from our lips caused the relief to course through you like so much lightning and it felt marvellous.

This is dull.

This is boring.

This is nothing.

You know we hurt you but at least you could still feel something. The pain at our infidelity, the annoyance at our Friday night flirtations, your shock at the stinging slap to your left cheek, but there was so much which was wonderful and amazing. Our knowledge of music, the concerts we took you to, the times we danced all night together, the experiences, the events and the ecstasy. Pain or pleasure. Hurt and Hate. Love and longing. You had it all and you want it again.

You have heard the warnings given by your friends to stay away from our toxic tongue. Your family have cautioned against embracing those lying lips ever again. Colleagues have confided in their concerns. The experts have told you how we will not change, that we will keep repeating our abusive machinations against you, up and down, in and out, push and pull. You have heard it all, again and again and again, but it is bland, boring and banal.

You know the risks. You know the hurt. You know the danger.

But you want to escape this non-existence.

Anything will be better than this godforsaken purgatory.

Yes, your personal god has forsaken you and left you in ashes and dirt.

You want us back.

You want the fire, the spice, the passion. Good or bad, you want it back because it is so much better than this emptiness.

You want it all again.

You want us back.

It hurts, but hurt is something to feel and it hurt so damn good.

You need it again.

You need us again.

One more time.

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27 thoughts on “One More Time”

  1. You can’t love someone a month ago and not love them a month later. The more I stay away, the clearer it becomes, the more pathetic your machinations look. To anyone struggling with no contact, hang in there. Give it time. Stay strong. The “magic” will start disappearing. The “spell” will start breaking. You will start seeing them for the clowns and fakes they are.

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  2. I must admit sometimes I see you HG as standing in place of my narc. Because I am very angry with him, I am driven to shoot my darts at you. Thank you for bearing with me!

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    1. i concur, yet part of myself, still has a soft spot for the child HG, which remains imprisoned in the depths of his mind/spirit…

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  3. I appreciate your attitude and understanding! Last time I spoke with my narc, we got interrupted because of his job. I had always praised him for what he did for a living and told him I admired and respected him for it. This time, because we got interrupted (yet again), I said I hated his job. Then I apologized profusely, said it was selfish of me, and told him how much I cared about him, etc. He said it was ok, he took no offense, and hated it himself sometimes. Do you think he felt criticized and wounded under these facts? Thank you!

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  4. HG i asked you a question several days ago about why he has not ever discarded me why he hangs on so tight to me. What i have come to realize reading more and more of your posts is he has indeed discarded me oh so many times throughout the last 7 yrs but bcuz of my begging and crying for him to come home..telling him whatever i did i will do better..he has come back each time. I have blocked out so many hurtful things he has said and done to me throughout the years. I have a close friend that at times when things are bad is the 1 who reminds me of remember when he did this..or that..and i have to really sit and think about it..and then im like omg..yes..how could i ever forget that!?!? But i did..hmm..maybe i have memory loss or do you think it could be bcuz bfore i can ever try and get answers to the problem at hand..something else has happened and now im focused on that and the other is wiped away? My mind is so foggy.

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    1. It is indicative of the effect of being confused, run down and manipulated. certain people also are susceptible to Pollyanna Syndrome where they tend to remember and put a greater emphasis on the good than the bad, resulting in a skewed perception.

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      1. Never heard of Pollyanna Syndrome..just googled it. Wow..this is real and very serious. Something just happened between us this past Wed evening after i got home from work and insisited that he read your article of “Why does he blow hot and cold” part one. I handed him my phone and he started reading it..he began lauging and said what kind of bs is this you have been reading..no wonder u have changed..you are not the woman i met and fell inlove with..this is all nonsense your so gulliable…caused a huge fight..he left and i tried calling and txting him Wed night and off and on Thursday. I have not heard from him. Silent treatment?

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      2. Blame-shifting, labelling and silent treatment. Use the silent treatment to go no contact and if he does contact you, you can tell him that HG will be coming to see him about his BS comment.

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      3. Lol..ok. Never done no contact HG..gonna need alot of help with this 1. Getting ready to make some purchases through amazon and start reading. Are these books or articles? I enjoy reading and it will help to get through today.

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  5. Hi! I don’t miss my narc at all. He looks really ugly to me.

    I don’t need a man. I am an Aries. We are one of the strongest female signs of the zodiac. We have strong leadership qualities. I don’t need an obstacle in my path. I am intelligent and stubborn. Once someone has gone too far, game over! Aries is the ram. We will fight until the end.

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  6. The last time I saw my guy, I made the remark “You don’t seem like yourself.”. He wasn’t meeting my eyes and seemed changed somehow. He said, rather loudly “Well I FEEL like myself!”. Was this an insult to him? I didn’t mean it as one and at the time I had not read anything by you. I just thought he was a player.

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    1. It depends on the manner in which you said it PIK. If it was said with emotion by you then it will have been fuel, albeit it masked a challenge, hence his response.

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  7. No more violence.
    No more lies.
    No more silent treatments.
    No more walking on eggshells.
    No more self doubt.
    No more panic.
    No more confusion.
    No more fear.
    AND
    No more control.

    What’s to miss. 🙂

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  8. Thanks HG. I’ve been several days without tears, but this one got them flowing. I do feel empty, can’t trust, can’t feel, and really miss the me I was before all this nonsense. I’m nearing 30 days NC, and 10 days since last known Hoover. I know I escaped, but it’s almost like I’ve been discarded without the contact. I know what he is and the drama that surrounded him. I don’t want him back, but wish I could feel something again. When do the tears stop and life begins again?

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  9. The One more time game it has exausted itself.
    The declarations of love promises are even stronger after the no contact.
    I am just left now with an innate curiousity.
    What’ s there left when that happens
    H G Tudor?

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  10. Insatiable learner – I do believe you can switch from loving someone one month and not the next. If you have grieved correctly that is. I went through all that wanting and crying and food tasting awful. I went out with a male friend and enjoyed his company. That was the last time I said I loved my narc and I know I was lying to myself. I do not love him. I do not even fancy him. What I’m left with now though is more the after affects. A bit like having been in an earth quake and I’m experiencing after shocks.

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  11. do you get more fuel when you discarded somebody than in a golden period? is the fuel of an unhappy person better than the fuel of a happy one? Or is it the risk and the power that gives you extrafuel?

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