That Which Does Not Break Me...

We met online, and I was taken with her almost immediately.  I also happened to be in a vulnerable situation with my then-girlfriend, in which I was unhappy and considering leaving the relationship.  I am certain now that this woman used my vulnerability to her advantage, though I take full responsibility for all of my actions.  The story goes, I left my girlfriend because it's ultimately what I had to do.  I needed to find myself... Little did I know I'd be taken into the abyss and beyond in order to accomplish that.

We had a six-month courtship.  A near constant exchange of push-pull energies.  My heart loved her fiercely, but my head and gut told me to run for my life.  It was the most tumultous mix of emotions I've ever experienced.  She was charming, witty, sensual... the "perfect" package.  Except that she would turn on me without warning.  She'd tell me to find someone else, that she was considering getting back with her ex because she didn't trust that I was good enough to be true, she was sure I'd get back with my ex, she couldn't do a long-distance relationship, and a whole host of other reasons that would crop up just as we'd start getting closer.  I thought she just had trust issues.  She'd come from a troubled past, like I did (or so she said).  I thought if I was just patient...

She told me, in great detail, about the alleged abuse she'd suffered as a child.  Sometimes it felt like she shared the grisly particulars with me purely for shock value, or to hurt me.  I could never share one of my own experiences without her - for lack of a better term - "one-upping" me.  As if to say, "Oh that's nothing, kid... what happened to me was much worse."  I often felt invalidated and helpless to say or do anything to comfort her.

The worst part of it all is, I will never know if any of it was even real.  And I mean, any of it... not just her stories but her supposed feelings for me.  I've since read that narcissists are incapable of expressing any true feelings, that they can only mirror the behaviors of other human beings because they are so empty inside.  Something to that effect, anyway.

I spent time with her that summer in NY.  Sex with her was amazing, and I remember always feeling so comfortable in her arms.  It was like our bodies fit together perfectly... that's one part I know I didn't imagine.  So, you see, my chakras were all off-kilter and I began to think I was the one who was insane.  She knew exactly where to find, and how to push all of my crazy buttons.

The most terrible lie of all?  She told me she had ovarian cancer.  Stage 3.  She said she underwent chemo and radiation, but the treatments hadn't worked.  According to her, she would die unless she had a hysterectomy.  At first I believed her.  Why wouldn't I?  Really, who lies about having cancer?  But over time, the pieces of the puzzle just weren't fitting quite right, and some were missing completely.  It would take more time than she's worth to spew all the details here...  But ultimately, I discovered she'd made the whole thing up. 

You know that sick, sinking feeling in your stomach that happens when someone tells you some brand of horrible news?  It was like that, multiplied by a thousand.  I wanted to vomit.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to sob and break things.  I wanted to break myself.  Because how could I have been so stupid?  Oh, I punished myself for a long time.  Then I finally got angry at her.  And then I just had to grieve... just feel the sadness without even knowing what I was grieving. 

Eventually, I realized I was mourning the illusion of her.  Who I thought she was or what I imagined her to be.  At least my spiritual energies had re-aligned and I knew I wasn't crazy, after all.  I went into major healing mode after that, spending a year and a half taking care of myself and reclaiming my inner strength.  It was a horrible experience to go through, but I will tell you this: I am grateful.  Because I found something glimmering in the darkness there.  I found me.