Like A Motorway

LIKEAMOTORWAY

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.

17 thoughts on “Like A Motorway

  1. Merripen says:

    Excellent analogy, HG. The visual and emotional experience of being entangled with a narcissist feels very much like this. Lots of time to ponder it on the long walk home.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you Merripen, good to see you re-appear.

  2. Hoovered says:

    Danger ahead! I was warned. There were many, many Red Flags but I jumped in anyway with both feet into the expensive auto . . . one of many of his props. Jumped into whst I thought wss a black car, but it was actually a black hole.
    The ride was thrilling from the moment our eyes met. He said you have gorgeous eyes . . . Flattery. I dont fall for flattery. What just happened to me? I looked into his eyes and I abandoned all I knew.
    The ride was short, only 7 months long, fast and thrilling, never a dull moment. Then the ride came to a screeching halt. Dark grey? Isnt the road either black or white? Why is my road back dark grey and long? Cant the way back to my life be as swift as my ride was?
    Curiosity killed this cat. Wait, she lives. She has another life to look forward to.

  3. MB says:

    Does this fall into the category that a little bit of heaven is worth a chunk of hell? Being afforded the experiences you wouldn’t otherwise at any point in your life. To be another person even if only for a short while. Even though you know it’s not genuine and it won’t last. Like reading a fantasy novel or having a starring role in a two hour movie. Life would be lackluster afterwards but it sure would be fun while it lasted! And the only abuse you had to endure is to walk back home in your Louboutin stilettos…

    (And, yes, before you ask, I do believe in fairy tales, dragons, unicorns and blind gay whales too 😊)

    1. Melinda says:

      MB, I don’t think I believe in heaven anymore . . . in the last 7 months all paved roads lead to hell. I know what hell is. When the student is ready the teacher appears. Twas a lesson I needed to learn–what I don’t want in my life.
      I was another person for just a short golden period of time . . . I was my genuine self.

  4. Empress1 says:

    Thanks HG– this is so correct!!! Mine, of course, still calls— just wanted to ‘drop in’ on his way to another of his houses! Are you kidding me??!!! Now I have unplugged the phones! Idiots!
    The ride is fun, addicting and very very dangerous!

  5. cheyenne says:

    *Spookytimes in Spooksville

  6. Kate says:

    I was actually, literally left on the side of a road to walk home when I was pregnant. There were no cellphones then. I am not sure of how many miles I walked. I have no idea why he did this.

    I am so sad to be remembering things and dealing with reality.

    This is so much better, though. Thank you, HG..

  7. lexiconlover says:

    Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a good mind fuck.

  8. jodyallen1968 says:

    Another great article, Mr. Tudor, and so very true. 🙁

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you.

      1. NarcAngel says:

        Hi Jody

        Glad to see you are still reading. Hope you are well.

  9. Linda says:

    HG, its been an hour after consult, thank you again. Ladies and gentleman, I highly recommend the 1:1 consult. Its personal, private, and on target to one’s specific situation.
    HG, 20 minutes ago, I looked out the window and my ex was parked in front of my house. He took off when he saw me. What is his message to me? I am trying to remain calm.
    Malign Hoover? I thought he was greater than that . . .

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you Linda.

      He is pushing the boundary re the restraining order and letting you know he is watching. Not malign, just sending a signal.

      1. Hoovered says:

        Dark, grey and long . . .

    2. MB says:

      HG is awesome! More progress in one hour than in months of expensive therapy. Worth WAY more than he charges!

      1. HG Tudor says:

        Thank you MB.

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