The Devastation of the Illusion
You fell in love with an illusion. You fell hard and deep for something which never existed. The golden days that we created together were the twisted reflections of my manipulative hold over you. I know how anxious you were to try to recover the golden period. You poured your beautiful heart into securing the impossible. I know that my silences, my verbal violence, the cheating and the lies, my perfidious control of you was brutal, malicious and devastating. I understand that the whole avalanche of manipulative techniques I applied to you, in savage wave after insidious wave crushed your self-esteem, mauled your sanity and shattered your world. This brutality was nothing compared to the aftermath.
For now you have slipped away from my tight, choking grip. I know however that you sit looking from the window where you used to watch for me strolling up the driveway, a bouquet in my hands and the pain still wracks you as you remember how you fell in love with someone who was not real. Memory after memory stirs from within, an endless loop of ‘best of’ moments that you want to stop remembering but you cannot. It hurts yet you still want to remember because even as the pain rises in your chest, you still feel the flicker of your love for me and you still cherish that. Like the drug addict, you know that line of cocaine is no good for you but still you need to snort it. The cold silences may no longer chill our living room. The sting of my slap across your cheek has long since faded. The barbed comments I fired your way each day have lost their power to wound. All of that has gone. The one lingering, tortuous pain that still sits deep within you is the knowledge that you were in love with an illusion No matter how much you discuss it with your friends, the earnest hours with your therapist and the pile of books about healing that are stacked up besides your favourite chair (which I always tried to sit in before you), none of them help take away that awful aching.
You can manage the shame of being fooled. You take a strange pride in having given your all to such a despicable person because that is the person you are. Honest, decent and a provider of unconditional love. You do not want that to change. You do not want to lose the empathy for which you are renown. The battered bank balance will repair (eventually) and the dosage of the medication will come down (your doctor has said as such in soothing tones). The strength of character which made me choose you means you can deal with all of these things. The one thing that will never leave is that deep-seated pain that you loved a ghost. Your head will eventually accept what happened, that you were charmed, entranced and enchanted and you never stood a chance. That was why you were chosen. Emotionally, you will never lose that dull ache as you sit and reminisce about our time together and how wonderful being in love with me was. Your heart will never accept that it was not real.
That crack, that fracture, that tiny chink that remains from your frenetic and devastating time with me shall always remain. It is through it that I can return as I slip, shadow like into your heart through that unhealed wound. That is why we did what we did; so we always had a way back in. For all of the strength that you exhibit through never taking a call from us, from changing email accounts, from burning the pictures and changing mobile numbers, you are never truly safe. Yes, you manage to evade the snaking tendrils that we uncoiled to try to haul you back under our spell. You will have to maintain that vigilance for the rest of your life. Our polluting influence, if ever allowed near you again, will creep and trickle through the hole that will never seal. You are consigned to a lifetime of wariness and maintain your defences because that damage is permanent.
You will always be in love with the person you thought I was.
8 thoughts on “The Devastation of the Illusion”
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No
I attribute the standard to the Disney effect pawned off on us in childhood. I hope that we will teach successive generations to question and to look behind the curtain in their quest for happiness.
Damn, that was a brutal read. But eff you narc, youre gone. Bye!
You’re delusional to think that.
I’ve moved on from ALL of them.
There were quite a few,before I knew what I was dealing with.
My eyes are open now.
I won’t be in love with that person and it was never that good even in the beginning.
I always found him odd and felt that was something wrong with him.
From the very first time,I just don’t know why I stayed with him.
I’m over him now and I forgave him,he made me an even stronger person than I already was,gave me a beautiful perfect child and open my eyes to his kind and made me realise what narcissism was and that I always attract his kind.
So all in all I should be thanking him for all that he’s done for me even if it was unintentional on his part.☺
He just wanted to hurt me but guess who gets the last laugh.😀
He taught me so much about myself and I needed that!So I won’t make the same mistakes again.
I really am greatful for what he’s done for me.😉
You remain vulnerable owing to your emotional thinking and if you think you are not, that is your emotional thinking conning you.
I thank my narc for allowing me to see how incredibly silly my standards for true love was, or what I thought love should be like. It allows me to appreciate the imperfection in future suitors.
In retrospect, his actions were nearing comical if not ridiculous; it shined a light on my own gullibility and desperation, and reminded me to trust my gut instinct. I’m stronger because of it.
I agree. Perhaps most victims of narcs have difficulty moving on and get stuck. Mind you, this is my second experience with a Narc and I educated myselfover the last few months, as it became very clear what was happening.
I am left with no warmth toward him at all. Nothing was real, nothing was true. There is nothing to miss. I would not give him the time of day. He is vile, and waaaay beneath me.
He tried the hover….wanting to be “friends”, two days after he broke our engamy off…because he was cheating with an ex he remained friends with.
My reaction was 🤣😂🤣🤣😂😂🤣😂
Trust me. I am not in denial or vulnerable.
Bye Felicia!!
It hurts. I had to give up the illusion tonight. I’ve said goodbye so many times. He has said goodbye so many times. But tonight I mean it. He may or may not have the personality disorder, but there is definitely something wrong. I wish I could help him, but I can’t. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s not real. To someone who doesn’t really want me, or my friendship. We never met, but it meant something to me. 9 months. It meant something to me. Not love. But something.
You don’t have to post this. I just needed to say it to someone.
Tienes razón en una cosa… Siempre estaré enamorada de la persona que creí especial. Siempre recordaré los buenos momentos porque puede que para él no fuera “real”, pero para mi si lo fue.
Pero, sabes qué? Pues que tengo esos mismos recuerdos de otras relaciones. Que una vez se cae la máscara, todo se cse con ella… Que la persona que descubres ya no es nadie, no merece la pena, no te quita el sueño, no es nadie para ti.
Nunca volvería con él, porque él no existe… Lo enterré y le dejé viviendo en mis recuerdos, en mis fotos y en mis sentimientos. Y no me importa, porque para mi fue real, no me torturo porque lo he disociado y son dos personas distintas… Él ya no existe, murió, le enterré, hice mi duelo y lo superé.
No espero una aspiradora, nonecesito verle ni saber de él… Le quise enormemente, pero aún me quiero más a mi y a mis hijos.
Viví una relación estupenda, llena de amor, emociones, experiencias, viajes… Pero esa persona ya no está entre nosotros, y recuerdo esa parte de MI vida con cariño. No me arrepiento de lo hecho y de lo vivido.
Ahora me está sacando los ojos, la vida y las entrañas. No me deja vivir, es un parásito que persigue mi hundimiento… Pero sabéis qué? Pues que soy mucho más que una súper empática, que soy mucho más que un bocado sabroso… YO soy uns mujer fuerte, entera, capaz, completa y que adora la vida. Que mi felicidad vale oro y nadie me la quita.
Soy una super empatica con la fuerza de un tornado… Y es el narcisista el que debería tenerme miedo… Lo sé todo de él, se cómo funciona y anticipo cada uno de sus movimientos. Se equivocó de víctima y no pudo destrozarme, sino que alimentó mi fuerza aún más si cabe.
Conocéis vuestra historia… Quizás os sorprendería la nuestra.