The Last Fight

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#1 Sep 11 - 6PM
MercyGraceOwen
MercyGraceOwen's picture

The Last Fight

The last fight. I left my narcissist Labor day weekend. It happened like this. We fell for each other hard. He was fishy from the start. There was no honeymoon period but I stuck around for 8 months. At first I was very concerned that it wasn't going to work out, but still getting my bearings (Months 1-3. Ignoring the Red Flags). Was I being overly negative and frightful, distrustful? I do have anxiety and depression, and am pretty cynical. Man/woman, extrovert/introvert, idealist/pragmatist, could things improve between us as we got to know each other's communications styles? In the end I came to realize that while those differences were real, he was ALSO an asshole, which made it impossible to resolve them.

I would say he was a mild/borderline narcissist. He was more of a wounded man-child crying out for unconditional love, than an emotionless psychopath. He wasn't so much a pathological liar so much as a chronic exaggerator, and someone who fooled himself more than anybody else into thinking he was going to do what he said he was going to do. He wasn't so much cold and calculatingly cruel as someone who would say petty and irrational things in a burst of defensive anger. He wasn't a cheat but he did like to boast about how easily he could get laid and how he chose not to as part of complimenting how special I was to him. He was at least half aware of his faults, but had trouble admitting them, especially when feeling backed into a corner. Even though I was also a source of "supply", I think part of him genuinely loved me. There were times he tried to be be good to me, but he really just didn't understand how.

I left him for three weeks in mid-April but was aimless. I didn't know why I had been drawn to him so strongly. It was such a remote chance that I should even encounter him. It seemed like fate. I was working a gardening/landscaping project at his place and rationalized returning thinking there was something I needed to learn from this experience: how to stick up for myself, how to be confident, how to remain calm and non-judgemental. Turns out I did need to learn those things, don't we all? but I ALSO needed to leave and stay away. Perhaps too, I thought, I had been getting to high and mighty about how I didn't care about anything, how apathetic and untouchable I was, and the universe brought me a circumstance to show me I wasn't immune to human drama because all of the sudden I cared about this relationship, and I didn't know why. I wasn't a skeptic anymore. I was in love.

This period was consumed with me doing self-help on myself, working on my "projections" in order to not see him as the source of my troubles but to seek happiness within (Months 3-6. Self-Improvement). I figured even if it wasn't meant to be, it was more important to be happy no matter what, than to find "the one", and the difficulty of our relationship would force me to look within. And perhaps he was right in his insistence that if I didn't give up things would get better. He didn't seem quite like what I wanted in a man from the start, but maybe that non-existent ideal man was one last shred of fantasy I needed to shed to embrace the real life, the life right in front me. This man loved me, wanted me, wanted to take care of me, or so he claimed. We had similar worldviews and life goals: marriage, children, self-sufficiency and a house in the country. Try as I might, I didn't find peace and enlightenment. I continued to be deeply disturbed by his behaviors. Like the AA prayer says "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. And wisdom to know the difference." I had been trying out some acceptance, but it was time to try some change.

(Months 7 & 8. Disillusionment) By July I'd quit the self-help and I didn't really believe in our relationship any longer but I stuck around because I was broke had nowhere to go that I wanted to go. I needed to make an escape plan. It seemed easier to put up with him a bit longer, save money, build my strength (I have a lot of health issues, and was seeing an acupuncturist for free) and move to Arizona where I really wanted to go rather than, say, move back in with my parents, after all I'm 31 years old). The decision to leave made it easier at times because I had given up on him, and thus could occasionally overlook his behavior as a temporary annoyance, but I still lost my cool frequently. I actually felt safer being a "bitch" and laying into him about his flaws. What did I have to lose? Nothing. But it was also harder in some ways. I was torn between the guilt of planning an exit behind his back, the need to be honest and give him a final chance to change, genuine feelings of caring, and an increasing bitterness and contempt toward his narcissism mixed with self-doubt and self-hatred at my own critical eye. Was I being too hard on the guy? Even when he was trying to make he happy it seemed like he was still a gigantic fuck-up. Sometimes it seemed like I'd lost sight of anything good about him. I felt sorry for him. I wanted to be able to stay, I wanted to be able to give him his dream life, and let him be my dream man. Making someone else happy makes me happy, and he insisted that I made him happy. Unfortunately, narcissists cannot feel that same generosity.

The entire 8-month relationship I'd been bugging him to go camping with me, not with his college friends or drinking buddies and me, just me (exhibit a. fails to take an interest in activities you are interested in). And we never did it. He couldn't commit to any plans, or the weather was bad, or we got in a fight before we were supposed to go and I angrily went alone (conveniently my decision, and therefore technically my fault, right?), or there was too much work to be done around the house, etc. I frequently expressed my discomfort, we fought about it numerous times, but I always relented to what he wanted to do. It seemed to make sense. The lawn DID need really mowed. Weeks and months passed. Finally, it was my birthday weekend. I still wanted to go camping. He couldn't/wouldn't fuck this one up right? We'd talked about it. It was on the calendar. Wrong. He'd "forgotten" about a very important show his band was playing. This was no lie. It was typical for him not to keep track of any of his own obligations and rely on others to remind him. The show was the "most important of the year" according to him, opening for some semi-famous dude from the Talking Heads. He couldn't let his bandmates down. Besides the show would make a lot of money...money to spend on me. I should be grateful.

I'd been looking forward to this chance to finally get my way for weeks. It sounds so childish even saying it, "my way" but he forced us into this sort of polarization. I was devastated. We were supposed to go camping alone one weekend, and have a birthday BBQ with friends the next. I reluctantly agreed it made sense to compromise and switch weekends, or rather I wasn't really given another option. I tried to get my disappointment under control, I was freaking out though, and told him mid-week I was having a nervous breakdown about this and maybe I would go out of town by myself. He told me he didn't want me to, but I should do what I needed to do, and he was going to have a BBQ for my birthday whether I came or not. He arrogantly stated that he thought I would come to it. I contacted a friend who lives about 8 hours away about meeting me and camping somewhere in the middle but he couldn't do it. My birthday came on a Thursday and my boyfriend made us surprise reservations at a fancy expensive restaurant. I thought this was odd because he knew very well I had been having appetite problems and had been very picky about what I wanted to eat lately. I had specifically stated earlier in the week when he asked me that I couldn't predict what sort of food I would want for my birthday. So why didn't he let me choose the restaurant? But how could I complain? The food was actually good and he was trying to do what he thought was romantic. (Note: This is a form of what they call "glamour gaslighting", where your man makes you feel guilty for not appreciating his romantic gestures, that are really more about making himself feel good than listening to what you really want/need).

After dinner we walked along the water front. I wanted to go one way, I asked if we could walk to "that building with the grass on top". He looked at me like I was crazy and said "why do you want to go over there!?". I shrugged, and went the way he wanted to. I wasn't particularly attached. This is the sort of subtle shit that happened between us so frequently. I'd think "no, it doesn't matter, there's nothing over there." But at the same time part of me would be confused saying "why not?" Especially on my birthday. Well Friday I pulled myself out my funk and I went to his show and Saturday we threw a BBQ together and it went over very well. Everything was fine until the next day. As part of the making up for not getting what I really wanted to do, he agreed to go canoeing on a section of swampy river we'd been talking about for awhile. Neither of us were anticipating how twisty and narrow the river would be, choked with cypress knees and criss-crossed by fallen logs. We would really have to cooperate. Uh oh.

We were stuck up against a log when he said irritably " Are you going to help me or just sit there?" Of course I was I was trying, or at least thinking of what do to help. We were not in grave danger from lack of immediate action. He was in the back as the "captain" and I had no idea what direction he was intending we try and face. We got free and I told him calmly that he was going to have to be clear with me and not speak to me condescendingly, that it was very important to me that we got along, in fact the ability to canoe together was sort of like a marriage test, not of hard canoeing skills, but whether or not we could be kind to each other and not get frustrated.

Things were going okay for awhile til it was my turn to be the captain. Big UH OH. "Why are you going into the bushes babe?" "Why are you slowing down!?" "It's just common sense!" "I thought you had a lot of experience canoeing." "Oh you're doing fine? Then I must be delusional."
Naturally, I screamed and yelled at him in response, "Arghgh! We're not getting married! We're breaking up, because you are a dick!" "This is a really curvy river and I just started steering. It's going to take some practice. I'm going to screw up. If you start paddling twice as fast as normal, I have to figure out how to adjust to that. If the dog tips the boat to one side, I have to figure out how adjust to that. It's like learning to snowboard, but it's worse because we have to do it together!" "If I was paddling with someone with no experience I'd do just fine and we'd bump into shit and it'd be okay because they'd be chillax and not an asshole like you!"

He took my telling him I was learning and he could give me tips, which was my way of graciously saying I was imperfect and open to feedback, to mean, "I'm an idiot with no experience, and you know better than me." He took back the captain's seat when I stepped off the boat a minute. (Exhibit b. always needs to be in control.) It turned into the trip from hell, stuck in a swamp together, not speaking, him passive-aggressively quitting paddling at all for a spell, him ramming full speed into things since I'd passive-aggressively quit trying to do anything but paddle forward since he yelled at me for screwing him up by "backpaddling" if I did anything else. (I had in fact been doing draw strokes to help steer the front of the boat away from objects that were too close to communicate to him about in time for us to avoid.)

When we got home I got straight in bed. Eventually he came in and apologized saying something like "I just get angry and I don't know what's happening. I don't think you are bad canoe-er. I would never think that." (Now those of you with men who NEVER apologize, this was indeed rare, not to mention inadequate, and confusing. Really, you don't think I am a bad canoe-er? Could have fooled me.) I was actually curious about some of the paddling techniques we might have used, and ended up reading an article online saying, "After 30 years of outfitting, if I had a dime for every time I've heard the belittling comments of a male with an inferiority complex bitching about his wife's or girlfriend's paddling inadequacies while up in the bow....it's just not right!" You bet it's not right.

Come Monday morning, despite his apology I was bummed and he knew it. He brought me home $200 worth of gardening and kitchen supplies for a birthday present/to assuage his guilt and get back my approval for his narcissitic feed. Once again I had mixed feelings about this romantic gesture. I should be grateful right? But did he think he can buy me off like some absentee father? And maybe could he have taken me to pick out the exact supplies I wanted? But then again I've always been disappointed when receiving gifts from people...and this was better than nothing even if it could never make up for the emotional abuse he had heaped on me the prior day. I said "thank you" and took out the Ninja food processor he got me to whip us up some blueberry sorbet to show my appreciation.

To backtrack a bit, when we got out of the canoe on Sunday he got some bad news that his cousin's ex-wife has died in a white water rafting accident, and his mom and sister were coming up for her funeral (this ought to have put our ridiculous spat in perspective, but it didn't for either of us). I asked him if this was going to interrupt our weekend plans, the camping trip I really wanted to do for my birthday? He said "No". The funeral might be that weekend, but he didn't want to go. He didn't really know her. Tuesday, he found out it WAS that weekend. He said, "but I'm not going... but if Carey (his brother) goes then I have to go." Contradictory much? He talked to his mom and told her he's wasn't going. She got pissed at him and tersely hung up the phone saying she wasn't going to stop in on her way through town after all (Hmm. The source of his deep-seated fear of being manipulated by women?). He told me to go ahead and make us reservations for my trip.

Wednesday. We were lying in bed after some really good sex and he decided this was a good time to "be vulnerable" with me, as he put it, and told me he felt guilty he was not going to the funeral, that it seemed like the kind of thing the person he wanted to be would do. This kind of flakey mind changing was typical of his behavior. "Are you saying you ARE going?" I asked.
"No."
"Are you asking my permission to go?"
"Yes."
He proceeded to tell me I was more important to him than the funeral and the decision was completely up to me, while simultaneously trying to convince me that we could just go camping another weekend (But when? next weekend was another show with his band. The weekend after that we were supposed to go on a trip to my hometown, another thing that had been put off and changed around, and cancelled due to fighting, and talked about but not fully committed to a million times). He argued "Its labor day, it'll be crowded if we go camping this weekend." (Yeah I know that, that is partly why I really wanted to go LAST weekend!) Even though I wanted desperately to do what I wanted to do, I also wanted him to want to do it, to believe it was the right thing, to not make me feel guilty for choosing myself. I tried to tell him I didn't like being put in the awkward position of deciding this. How could I tell him I was more important that his family? I didn't know anything about how close they are or how important this funeral is, or how his presence or lack thereof would be received? I told him all my feelings about how it seems perfectly reasonable to go to the funeral yet, I felt small, like maybe I didn't deserve to get to do what I want. In any case I pointed out it hadn't happened yet, us spending the weekend in a way of my choosing, and I wasn't sure why, but it seemed like a bad sign.

As always he started to get impatient and frustrated with me and my babbling about my feelings. My emotions highlighted his inadequacy. He just wanted my answer, funeral or birthday. He was being generous by giving me a choice! He was being the good guy! How dare I bring up the past which he couldn't do anything about!....Eventually, I really hit one of his buttons and he suddenly popped off on me screaming, "Bullshit!" and implying i was spoiled by saying things like "You don't always get exactly what you want. That's not 'a sign'. That's called life!" and "This last weekend was ALL about you!" I said, "That's not true, the show was about you, and in any case it wasn't what I wanted to do." He retorted that he wanted to do the show so we could have money for MY birthday trip (Not true, and i'd told him when the conflict originally came up, if that was the only reason he was doing it, I would pay.) I yelled that I've never in my life had so many fights about "Who Gets What They Want." He started mimicking me in a whiny voice, just saying non-sense, and then listing all the things he'd done for me, like the romantic dinner, buying the garden supplies, and the BBQ and the canoe trip that I didn't appreciate it, and how that made HIM feel small.
While this was going on, he was grabbing his shoes and wallet and running out the door to head off to the bar or some guy friends like always rather than facing conflict. I told him it was the shittiest canoe trip of my life and he replied, "Seems like it was your first." I dumped a Dr. Pepper on his head. I felt the urge to run everytime we fought, but seriously, this time, I'd had it. Too much drama in too few days. I started packing my shit. I fully intended to take our dog, my dog, who I fed and walked, and took care of, who he only paid attention to when convenient, and hit when disciplining her, and who he verbally gave to me at one point, but also later begged me not to take should I ever leave.

I took it as a definite sign of being the right thing to do when the dog, contrary to her normal behavior, she normally needs coerced into a vehicle and runs all about the neighborhood when she gets the chance, jumped in the open door front seat of the car and didn't leave it for the hour it took me to pack. Ah, but I made a fatal mistake. I drove to a mutual friend's house to spend the night because was 10 pm. When he discovered that I was gone he called 6 times in a row and texted a bunch alternately insulting me AND our friend who was harboring me because he guessed I might go there, and pleading with me not to leave. He wrote things like "Fine go. I hope you have a good time up there on big rock candy mountain where you don't have to worry about anyone else's feelings." Ironic, right? I awoke in the morning to find the dog gone from the backyard.
The thing about a person like this is they will make you act crazy, and as a rational, kind person you feel bad about it. You know you are ultimately responsible for your emotions and actions. But you have to ask youself when is that last time I dumped Dr. Pepper on a boyfriends head? Never. I hadn't acted so childish in 10 years at least, and that was with a man who was similarly angry and troubled and was physically abusive to boot. I'm not even the kind of person who yells, and screams. Maybe zero-twice a year in an average relationship. Well I did something else "crazy" next. I went back to the house and took all his musical shit, hundreds of dollars of it, and loaded it up to try and coerce him to give me the dog. Naturally, he didn't respond well to that when he found out. Shit, he always thought me crying when he said or did something mean was "emotional manipulation", of course he was going to freak at blatant blackmail. He told me to "keep it" but then bluffed that he was calling the cops to report a robbery. As I found out later he didn't actually do that. He told me if I was going to drag this out, he would go all the way. I told him I didn't want to do that, I just wanted to get the dog and leave and he said, "boo hoo, looks like you still aren't getting what you want."

It became clear war with him wasn't the way to win. That is when I really joined the dark side. I knew he wasn't really dangerous and was only acting out at my rejection, and that he absolutely did not want me to leave. If I acted contrite I could pretend I wanted to make up and then get him to come to me and make a run for it with the dog. I knew his greatest weakness was his ego and that he would succumb to my apologies and flattery. I started texting him in that vein. He'd been taking the dog to work and avoiding our home so I couldn't simply take it back from him. By Friday morning I'd won him over and convinced him I still cared about him and didn't want things to end that way. Problem is by the time I won him over, I believed the ruse myself, sort of. I couldn't go through with it. I just couldn't make him trust me, and then trick him first chance I got. It was too cruel. I'll go back to plan A, I thought, I'll leave quietly and peacefully in a few more months when I am strong and calm and prepared and have a real destination in mind, not just running out of irrational anger, and who knows maybe we will have some nice times together yet. Maybe he'll finally get it. A delusional hope, I know, but I wanted, still want, very much for him to be able to heal his wounds for his own sake. I could see his behavior was self-sabotaging and causing him deep unhappiness.

So as part of my ruse I had told him I would go to the funeral with him after all and we could go camping out that way. Not surprisingly, he accepted this without question and didn't offer or insist we go where I had wanted to go for my birthday. Nor did he apologize to me, but did acknowledge our initial fight by telling me my running away behavior "wasn't fair" and explaining that the reason he got angry was because he already said he was sorry about the show thing, and that it felt like the conversation wasn't going anywhere, that I needed to focus on what was possible in the present and not dwell on the past, and that I needed to be more patient with him and know that it wasn't personal when he got triggered.

Anyway, it so happened that this plan allowed me to keep all my things in my car which was already packed with food and clothing and camping gear for my original escape. I would be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind that now I could escape, with the dog, at any time if he pissed me off. He could step into the gas station for a pack of smokes and I could be gone somewhere he couldn't find me. But I didn't think I would really do it. I'd convinced myself that part the reason I hadn't left so far was that the timing just didn't feel right, it felt like we had unfinished business. We had a perfectly nice time on Friday afternoon. We went shopping for some art supplies, and new clothes for the funeral. That night we walked in a park at sunset and stayed in a motel. The service wasn't until 7 pm on Saturday so Saturday morning we also had a nice time. He painted a watercolor in the sketchbook he'd bought for me and dedicated it to me.

Despite the "nice time" we were having. I still couldn't help but noticing how odd his behavior was, and how it irritated me that I couldn't NOT notice and not attribute it to his narcissistic tendencies. For example, his flakeyness. Originally we were going to camp on Friday night, which I thought made the most sense given the timing and our budget, but after I thoroughly reviewed all the options with him and decided on a camping destination I thought would be best, he changed his mind and decided he wanted to stay in a motel. Whatever. I like motels.

Then there was his self-centeredness. The way when we were in the motel room that night, at around 11 o clock I suggested we turn off the TV and get some rest so we wouldn't be too tired the next day (the fighting of the past two days had taken a physical toll on both of us). He insisted on watching it just "a little" longer because his stomach hurt. When I asked him again about a half hour later he said scoffing, despite the fact that he knows I'm a light sleeper, and we don't even have a TV at home, "What? You can't go to sleep with the TV on?" Fuck no, I can't, but I patiently waited for him to decide he was ready for at least another half an hour or more.

Then at the parks we stopped at there were his typical displays of uber-independence. Throughout our relationship when we were walking together in the woods he would often walk way ahead so I had to yell to communicate with him and if I started talking and saying "oh look at this or that neat thing" , he would't slow down or return to look at it like a normal person would. He'd maybe say "What?" but just keep going. Like with the grass building on my birthday, I could be assertive, press the matter, but why would I when it was really not that important, just a bug or leaf? Or if, say, I'd walk over and stop to read an informational plaque he wouldn't follow or but would keep walking in "his" direction. It was subtle yet unsettling. He was like a wild untamed animal who always does what it wants when it wants. He had no sense of cooperation or compromise. I believe he honestly didn't even know the way he was behaving wasn't normal. I KNEW it wasn't normal. But who was I to tell him it was "wrong"?

Then there was the sexual pushyness and entitlement. The way he whipped out his dick looking for me to suck it, when I was clearly preoccupied and had just started on filling in my sketchpad with plant samples. I just stared at it and then went back to my work until he put it away. It's not that I didn't want to have sex with him, but was I reading into nothing, or was there something inappropriate and inconsiderate about his timing? How would he feel if I came onto him smack in the middle of painting the watercolor he'd just finished? Would it kill him to ask if I was interested for once rather than to try and force the matter?

So our real last fight. We stopped at a park to look at some old iron mines. I asked the ranger where we might see them, and he gave me directions. Of course verbal directions are always confusing and difficult to remember. We also bought a backpacking trail map for two bucks, for "when we come back" (ha right!). He drove the car while I looked at the map to find the trailhead we wanted. We came to an intersection and he asked me which way to go while driving straight through, mind you, not slowing down or stopping to wait for my answer or so I could read the signs, or consult the map to be sure of my accuracy. Incidentally the way he choose was the wrong way, which I sorta knew at the time, but it was all happening too fast.
"Which way?
"Umm..."
"You gotta direct me, babe. What do you want me to do?"
"Just stop!"
He did in the middle of the road saying, "These bikers behind us aren't going to like this."
"Well then go!" I said. Next I told him to turn around and we did. "Yes this is right. the ranger said go over a wooden bridge!" But uh oh, right away another intersection, and wasn't sure again. Again, since he hadn't slowed down to let me speak or think and he drove what I thought was the less desirable way. But I hesitated, I knew we were getting close, and there was a little hiker sign, and the ranger DID say there were a couple different spots we could get on the right trail, maybe we could get there from there. But we didn't see any trail head and I told him we had to go the other way. We're not talking miles of driving the wrong direction here, just seconds and minutes. "Wow. You're a really great navigator, babe," he said sarcastically.
"Don't be mean."
"I'm not being mean," he said laughing. "I don't think you are a bad navigator. I just think you're doing bad at it right this second. That's just who I am. I give people a hard time." Two or three defense tactics in one here. 1)First of all he was a master at this sort of complimentary insult. For example saying things like, "I didn't mean to upset you. I forget sometimes you are not the strongest woman in the world," after getting impatient with me for saying I did not feel comfortable lifting something. 2)I was joking don't be so sensitive-defense, and 3)That's just the way I am so if you like me and want to be with me then you'll deal with it-defense.
"Yes it IS mean. It makes me want to cry." In fact my eyes were watering. If this were an isolated incident, it may have appeared that I was being oversensitive, and he was just giving me some friendly ribbing, but it was beginning to sound like an exact repeat of our terrible canoe trip. So actually yeah, I was a tad oversensitive. And if that didn't solidify his jerkish nature the rest of the conversation did.
"Why?" he said in disbelief.
"I don't appreciate it when you make fun of me when I'm doing my best."
"That's you doing your best? I don't believe it. You've navigated much better than this before. "
"No, really this is who I am. I'm a slow thinker. I've always been that way. You know like trivia where you have to buzz in? I suck at it."
"You are very methodical," he conceeded. "But if you were doing your best you'd sit down and have it all figured out."
"But I can't do that while you are driving."
"You can't do that while I am driving!? What do you mean? I'M DRIVING. What, are you gonna do it while you are driving?"
"I mean, I can't even look at maps when the car is moving. It's too much pressure. I like to just pull over and figure it out. Otherwise I get all flustered and panicky that we are going the wrong way and its my fault and I have to make a decision soon and then I can't concentrate at all! Men never just stop, they always keep driving the wrong way for miles! Why don't they just stop?!"
He began taunting me, "Oh so you don't think it would be a good idea for you to learn to make quick decisions and think on your feet? You don't think that would be a useful skill for you to learn?"
I said nothing in response, and we arrived at the end of the road in what I was now certain was the right area. He parked with the car running. "Give me the map" he said.
"No." I did't see why if he truly believed I COULD navigate, I ought to hand over the map.
He tried to grab it out of my hands. I threw it out my side of the car into the parking lot.
"I will climb over you to get that map!" This whole scene was done playfully, at least from his end. As far as I was concerned the discussion about my navigation skills and his "meanness" wasn't over. I was irritated, now but not irate, yet. He lunged over me and I was holding him by the belt his head dangling out the side of the car.
"Your car is leaking like crazy babe."
Did I mention he ran over a giant rock earlier in the day on a back road, smashing part of the undercarriage, and practically giving me whiplash? Well he did. Did I belittle his driving skills? No. I secretly wished he would drive a little more cautiously and less like a "man" or should I say "boy", but in fact I was reluctant to reveal how much my neck hurt at first because it was an accident and I could tell he felt bad.
After some examination, he said "It's just the air conditioner." Meanwhile I had gotten out of the car, turned it off, let out the dog, locked it, and picked up the coveted map and put it in my back pocket. I started walking to look around and find the trailhead. The dog was walking beside me without her leash. "Wait we should put her leash on." He called the dog a few times, and she wouldn't come to him. Uhuh, first me, and then her. His lack of control was reaching a critical threshold! "Babe, stop walking for a minute!" I stopped. He put the leash on. "Do you know where you are going?" I said nothing. What could I say after the argument we just had? The answer was yes and no. Not precisely. We were in a grove with an old church. The map showed the trail circling the entire area. I was sure an entrance was around somewhere, but not sure precisely where. The ranger had said there were a few places to get on the trail. I could see other hikers in the distance. I was confident we'd find it shortly. But how could I explain all that to him in the face of his judgement? He'd just demand to look at the map and not in a cooperative let's figure this out together sort of way, but in a stop being a rebellious bitch and give me back my authority sort of way. "Fine. I'm going back to the car until you figure it out," he said angrily. That is when I really snapped.
"Don't be a dick!"
"I'm not being a dick. I just want to find the trail. I don't want to walk through a parking lot. I want to walk on a trail. Isn't that what we came here to do?"
"The trail is all around us!"
"Well, I asked you and you didn't answer me"
"That's because I just thought it was. I wasn't a hundred percent sure. Anyway I want to look at the church. So just come on and then we'll find it"
"I've seen a thousand Cumberland Baptist Churches. I don't want to see another one."
"Well. I haven't and I want to see the church."
" No one is stopping you. You do what you want to do and I'll do what I want to do."
" Ugg. You always have to be in control. Why cant you just....yield?"
"I do not always have to be in control."
An ironic thing to say because, at this point we're back at the car and since I have the keys, I unlock the door, the dog jumps in, and I climb into the driver's seat which you can tell he can't stand.
"What are you doing? Don't you want to hike anymore?"
"No."
"Well, do you know where you are going?"
"Yes".
"You do? You know where you are going? You know how to get to the funeral?"
"Yes! I'm the one who wrote down the directions remember." (Irrational questions since according to his logic earlier, it shouldn't matter if I know where I am going. The person not driving is supposed to be the navigator, and I'm clearly a shitty navigator, so it should be him, right?)
He goes to get in the passenger side but it is still locked. And that is when I embody as much cruelty as my sensitive soul can muster and drive away from him for good, with our dog, leaving him standing like a helpless fool in a State Park parking lot.

Actually it wasn't that easy. Even fueled by anger it wasn't easy at all. I had no intention on being more punishing than necessary. I stopped just a few hundred yards down the road and threw his cell phone and clothes out quickly....at the trailhead we were looking for, ironically! I didn't see him trying to come after me. He must of have been certain I would come back for him. I stopped twice more, once at the ranger station, and once at a gas station back on the main road to think this through. I knew his phone was dead, but we were only about 30 minutes from the funeral so surely he could charge it up somewhere and hitch a ride or get someone from his family to pick him up. Humiliating, but not that much of a hardship for him. Oh how it pained me to be the crazy, irrational, bitch. Was our fight really that bad? Should I have started shit by accusing him of being "mean", or was there a way I could have phrased that better? Wasn't I being purposefully antagonistic by not answering him and hiding the map? Did his responses justify me abandoning him in the middle of a State Park?
In the end I decided that even if it was "wrong" to leave him there, staying with him would be just as wrong. The fight in isolation may not have justified my behavior but the entire 8 months leading up to it, and the months that were surely to come did. It was time to stop doubting those nagging feelings that something was "off" even if I couldn't pinpoint exactly where and how and why it all went wrong, and to believe that it wasn't my fault, or at least not all or even mostly my fault. If I returned for him there would be no end to the nightmare. There would be nothing but more of the same endless heartache.

Now I'm left asking why did it all happen? I've come up with a few answers. First of all it is well known women are inordinately attracted to narcissists due to the fact that they are generally charming, seductive, and toxically mimic desirable masculine traits like assertiveness. As a healer type (Meyer-Briggs INFP, wouldn't ya know?) the high I feel from loving and giving and caretaking was fed by his voracious need for it. We are all "crazy" in one way or another and I couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. I always saw right through his tough mask to his fragile core. His flattery and idealization and professed devotion were a boost to my low self-esteem. He never failed to lavish me with physical attention and compliments, and he unwaveringly asserted that he wanted to me with me. He never acted withdrawn or ambivalent like some of the men I'd been with. I have major health issues and his offer to take care of me materially, and encouragement to rest and heal and not judge myself for not doing more were irresistible music to my chronically fatigued ears after years of struggling to pull myself up by my bootstraps and be a respectable member of society. You can see clearly from my story where own my weakness lies: the introspective, self-doubting, compassionate,empath. Perfect prey for a narcissist.