In the Beginning There Was no Longer Love

No.

“Come on! We can hurt her!”

I know. And, no.

Ego was in a rage, a fury. I’ve never felt fury before. Anger, yes. Rage, yes. Even anger-age. But, never fury. And I’m dangerously vulnerable enough to give in to Ego’s wants of revenge for that one act we simply cannot stand: Betrayal.

Jesus, what a sensation. I had suspected things were happening. And when you suspect, it eats at you from the inside. Your brain goes into Hannibal Lecter mode. Let’s dance, it seems to say.

I had known. I identified the repetitive patterns. The secrecy. How could she be so oblivious in thinking that I wouldn’t pick up on the smallest of energy fields that aren’t possible to hide? I just needed confirmation to seal it all. Did I need it? Yes. We all need to know when we’re being lied to. And as much as it hurts, it’s also part of the healing process.
And a helluva learning one.

“Your intuition isn’t strong enough,” she’d repeatedly lodge her disappointment with me. And it’s true, it isn’t – or wasn’t – strong enough in the places she’d like it to be. But it was extremely powerful in the places I needed it to be.

During our story that stretched beyond its expiry date, I was blinded by a thick, mystical fog of love. She was blinded by an even thicker fog – of lies.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” was her repetitive theme.

“Then don’t,” I’d say. “It’s that easy.”

She wanted an open relationship. I agreed.

“I can be discreet,” she added.

She can lie? When someone grows up in a veil of lies, they develop an ability to detect anyone trying to sell them bullshit. And my ability is highly tuned. Meanwhile, Ego headed for the battle field and decided that we would be all she would ever need.

“She’ll never need another man!” it claimed.

Our experience showed that it was impossible to be the One for just one.

A few weeks before we finally ended our story, she started to frequently go to ‘meetings’ in a nearby village. One evening she asked if I could cover the bar for the end-of-season closing down party at her workplace, while she worked the floor.

He had come by and sat at the bar with his son. He didn’t acknowledge me even though he knew very well who I was. We had been introduced before. And from our first introduction I knew this guy was going to be a catalyst.

She was blinded by her belief that my intuition would be too weak. I‘ve explained to her that when I see two people interacting, I can immediately tell whether they’ve been together, will be together or are currently together.

I saw the looks exchanged and it was enough to confirm everything. We had one rule in our open relationship, one that I took as a holy grail: When we’re together, then we’re together. A rule set in place out of respect, out of trust, out of loyalty.

When we were sat on the couch, breaking up, she looked into my eyes and told me how she wanted to focus on herself, be on her own, develop herself into becoming a strong, independent woman.

I had been forever suggesting those very things to her. But she sat there lying. And it wasn’t the first time I’d caught her in one. Several chances presented themselves to come clean with other lies. When she did finally confess on a very elaborate one, I asked her,

“If there’s anything else you’d like to tell me, now would be a good time. No judgement, no anger.”

She replied with, “What do you know?” which was immediately followed with a string of complaints about my tone, approach and timing. Everything but hearing and addressing the very words I was actually saying.

Meanwhile, Ego fed off the anger building up. It was threatening to go to war.

I felt as though my head and heart would explode if I didn’t get away. I headed for the hills for fresh mountain air. I returned two weeks later to her news.

“I’m seeing someone.” My heart imploded for I knew who it was. “Two months now.” She said it with a smile.

I didn’t mention that the time frame was her confessional. I was ready for openness. “Full disclosure,” as up until then, I didn’t want to hear about others during our story. But just before we ended it all, I felt I was ready. That I needed to be ready if this was going to work out.

“I’ll decide when you’re ready,” she decided for me.

I played to her tune as she slowly admitted to breaking every promise she had ever made to me. And so nonchalantly. A surprising flow of lies revealed. When you lie, you lie firstly to yourself, which your Ego junks off like an addict, and then you lie to everyone else. Because you have to believe the lie your telling, before you can tell it.

I needed a desperate change of scene, land and people. I flew out to friends on the other side of the planet. I then traversed Earth to the one place where I find peace – free-diving among the reefs. Water is my second home and therapy. I found forgiveness for her and a lot of love.

Love for a person I’ve grown to know. Someone I shared experiences with. Someone who was part of an ‘Us’. There’s no need to go to war with an ex. After all, she knows everything about you and you about her. And I really felt that we could have a great platonic relationship – but she’d have to come clean first.

We stayed in touch. Things were bad for her. Incidents plagued her one after the other. A road accident, a falling out on a job, friends turning their backs on her.

“They’re jealous of who I’m now seeing.”

She hadn’t realised that it wasn’t because of who she was seeing. It was because of how it happened – behind my back.

She wouldn’t name him even though I knew who it was.

“I’m not ready to tell you because you’re not ready to hear it.”

Don’t you love it when people decided for you if you’re ready for anything?

When I returned, she named him.

“I know.”

“Oh,” she was surprised. “How did you know?”

She’s always refused to believe that I (and indeed, most switched-on people), “Can sense these things.”

“He’s worried,” she continued, “we might end up hooking up. Cause there was an overlap when I started seeing him.”

Finally, the truth. Flashes of our last conversation when we ended our story exploded in my head.

‘I want to be on my own, focus on myself.’

Lies.

I didn’t react to her confession. I did insist that I had no want to hook up with her – at all.
“I just want you to be happy and to make sure that you are.” And that was my truth.

After about a week I asked to meet her, give yet another chance to come clean at a level of admittance. None of this camouflaging with words like ‘overlap’. I asked her in a very calm manner, explaining that I would not pass judgement, that I would not get angry, that I just want her to come clean so that she ends the year and starts the new one with a clean slate.

“It’d be better for you, for him, me, and us as a whole, if we are to retain our friendship.”
She replied with, “What do you know?” which was immediately followed with a string of complaints about my tone, approach and timing. Everything but hearing and addressing the very words I was actually saying.

De ja vu.

Although she stung me with some venomous words, I remained calm and walked away. A few days later, I was invited to a farewell potluck dinner for a friend who was also her friend.
And both our therapist.

She had come down to deliver a healing workshop of which we both attended. Her current partner had also partaken. The night we returned from the workshop, a Russell Viper was attempting to cross the road. We pulled up and protected it from traffic, making sure it got to the other side.

Snakes have strong symbolic meaning. And seeing that viper, knowing it’s venomous ways, and the significance of it – the serpent had urged Adam and Eve to bite from the apple of knowledge. From the fruit of truth – it was all coming together.

The farewell dinner was at her house so I came over with my dish and was alone in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on it when he came in.
Just the two of us.

“We should talk when you get the chance.”

“About what?” he reached into the fridge.

“About this ‘overlap’.”

“I was under the impression you were out of the picture.”

I laughed. “No, you weren’t. You knew I was still around. This isn’t the place for this. Let’s talk in a few days. Just do me a favour, she doesn’t have to know about it. You can tell her after but it’s better that she doesn’t know before.”

“You’re asking me to be sneaky?” he chuckled, reaching into the fridge again, avoiding eye contact.

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” I stung.

He left after dinner but not before having a chat with her on the landing. The other guests were in the kitchen fussing over dessert when she came raging on the balcony where I sat alone.

“What the fuck did you say to my man?”

I calmly answered, “It’s between us.”

“You went behind my back,” she seethed.

“Behind your back?” I played shock. “That’s a terrible feeling to endure, isn’t it?”

She kicked me out of her house. I bid ‘goodnight’ to the other guests and left. As I climbed down the stairs she called out, “You fucked it up. You fucked everything up.”

How much of our two years was a lie? How much of it was truth? How much of it was real?

Both their reactions sealed their confessions. I didn’t want it that way. I wanted to talk. They didn’t. So I cornered them to get the truth that I figured I needed in order to clear my head and heart. The same heart she now returned in shattered pieces after I had trusted her with it whole.

My Ego was threatening to cause chaos and destruction.

“Destroy her!” it screamed inside my head.

No.

“Come on! We have the power! Hurt her like she did us!”

I know. And no.

I have to leave again. If I stay a moment longer, Ego will win, and we’d hurt her in ways I could never forgive myself.

The journey begins.

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