MY ROAD-LIFE AS A SERIES OF choices

"You said the women were "lucky" not to deal with you," Jane said pouring herself a small drink from the half empty bottle, wondering perhaps if it would soon join the empty line of others.  "How is it possible that you breaking their hearts is lucky?"

"They did not get stuck with the barbed wire encased problem which I represented.  Did I do wrong in breaking hearts?  In that, you are right.  And, you are also wrong.  Was it right for me to break their hearts?  Of course it was not.  But was it wrong for me to fall in love?"

"Look at this from my point of view.  My life has been a series of choices and momentarily, I will tell how choices are conflicts.  I suppose for those who have what they want perhaps this is not the case.  I have never had what I want.  For those of us who have settled for something or who have been trapped into something, no matter how wonderful or special it is, life in the trap is always about getting out to some extent.

Of course, if there is nothing outside of the trap, then escape often seems pointless.  

In my life, that was and was not the case.  I do not mean to be mysterious.  What was outside was another person.  Early on, it did not matter whether it was male or female, romantic or not.  The girl was unobtainable for several reasons, some historic, some misconceptions, some the result of societal mores which require more than a single night to put into context.  The same African sun and gulf water which were conspiring to bring me to virtue were getting ready to kick the other person's ass which, in thinking about it, seems to be the purpose of all of this.

Then it was sunny, a hot in the sun, but nice and cool otherwise and I was being talked into a business deal by someone who I like, someone who is naturally likeable, but who is as likely as not to drag everyone around him down and I should know better.  

 Unfortunately, I am one of those people who goes into life with a light heart and am easily beguiled and have little fear of the evil of man despite having been victimized directly and since I was a child by every form of evil.  I have seen prejudice and experienced it first hand, even to the point of violence.  I have witnessed every form of crime and corruption.  And yet, even the most disreputable person begins each meeting with me with a clean slate, so I was doomed. And I went into this relationship conflict innocently.  I thought my doom would doom my existing relationship and that, taking me as I was, the girl who I fell in with innocently, because I did not think it possible that I would succeed, would accept this risk that I thought I could reward.

 I was empathetic and understanding.  It is wrong to think that as a group narcissists don't have 'human' feelings.  Am I mostly interested in things that benefit me?  Of course.  That is not narcissism, it is self preservation, otherwise I would have to say the girl was the greater narcissist, which is an interesting, but rejectable theory.  But I have always been willing to sacrifice myself for others, even more so later when I was in a state of virtue.  And one thing about a high performing narcissist is that they realize that the entire world needs to do better if things are truly improving. I knew the benefits to me of the various options and it was clear what would be best for me.  I was, however, so insecure, which I will address in time, that my flaws and weaknesses had to be kept carefully hidden.  I was not, however, guilty of vengeful thoughts, at least not long lasting ones.  That is another misunderstanding.  Quite the opposite.  I am unable, completely unable to hold a grudge, to the extent I appear gullible.

Getting back to what I could offer the girl, there are many things other than my level of understanding and my forgiveness of her failure to recognize how much I loved her before and even her cruelty to me within this strange and desperate time we had together.  

This person was sacrificing her own life for an inanimate object when we got together.  Granted, it was a very large, very animated, inanimate object, but that is only a matter of degree.  She was in her own, self possessed way, possessed nonetheless and therefore almost as damaged as I.  I, damaged as permanently as I thought I was, particularly at the very nadir of things was the perfect broken thing, a thing she could spend her whole life fixing without success.

Also, remember however, at the time I did not know I was such a menace.  One problem with narcissists is that it is difficult for them not to see themselves as good people.  I will, if the liquor continues to flow, describe the "process" for developing Narcissists and you will see that even psychologists tend to give us a pass, blaming our problems incorrectly on others as opposed to our own faulty wiring.  This is not correct, but is another example of gas lighting which has to be one of my favorite terms of psychology, perhaps because I love the illusion and Ingrid Bergman and am fascinated by perhaps the most famous of all prominent narcissists, Vincent Price.  Gas lighting?  I will tell you about that too, all things in time. 

Unlike many, narcissist or not, I think that I was overly loyal.  I was loyal to the manipulator that had trapped me and the child that she had given me.  At times, it was only my obligation to them that allowed me to stay alive, though I hoped I would die as a more likely way to provide assistance. 

In my own way I was loyal to my lover.  She did not know, or ask, but I had applied for a job nearby which would both assure I was not able to go home and create the separation that was necessary for me to walk away with a minimum amount of discomfort to everyone else.  And I did this without giving a hint that it was being done because I was careful not to provide some commitment that would lead to a misunderstanding if things fell through, as they ultimately did.  I was sabotaging our relationship in the same way that she was, but not giving enough information or providing it in a way that left me with choices, oddly enough with choices I did not even want.  Who, I wonder, was gas lighting whom.

And in this posture we met one afternoon, it was a Saturday and she had set the day aside for us.  We had great plans, I think, to go and do something on this beautiful day, walk in the park, play tennis, I’m uncertain; there were so many choices in life when we were together it was difficult to pick between them.  But first, we hugged, then we kissed, then we, in a very leisurely way took off each others clothes standing in a very public living room, kissing petting each other.

And then we went to be and had sex, and had sex and the day darkened and I looked at her as we lay panting and expended and to my own surprise told her we had been making love for eight hours!  Such was our passion, that we could do this feat without even realizing it.

And in such a state, without even untangling the sheets we straightened them enough to cover over impossibly entangled bodies and let ourselves be absorbed into the thick mattress and were thus engulfed in a completely satisfied oblivion, disturbed only but sufficient moments of consciousness to ensure that each of us remained wrapped up, glued by our own drying sweat, with the other.