“You took my heart, then you took my pride away. I hate myself for loving you”-Joan Jett
I could hear his breathing and then finally with the feeling of annoyance I said “are you just going to sit there and let me listen to your blinker click away or are you going to talk to me? Because I don’t need to sit here listening to your truck and your constant sighing.” He said “I suppose not, I’ll talk to you later” and then I hung up the phone without as so much as a goodbye. I was at the pinnacle of my impatience with him, there was nothing more I saw in him other than a middle aged man I was having an affair with. I could still hear those words in my head, the phrase that made me realize that he is probably the most selfish man on earth. The fact that he thinks I’m going to be around for when he or his wife decide to get a divorce, then and only then will he be available to be with me. Okay, twenty years isn’t exactly forever but at that point in time I would have waited for this asshole. As I sat there staring out my back door, I began to come to terms with the cold hard reality that, yes I had been played in the worst way possible by the man that I had once considered the great love of my life. Love fucks us up in more ways than you can imagine.
Your sense of logic is nowhere to be found, we wind up listening to our heart not our brain, we let emotions rather than rationality make crucial decisions for us and then get hit by the boulders that fall off of the cliffs above only to realize that we’ve been dodging the truth all along. Case in point, I had no social life because he couldn’t go out with me for fear of being seen by someone who knew he was married and knew his wife. And like an addict I complied in order to keep getting my daily dose of deadly emotional drug. Being in love with a narcissist and emotional vampire is almost as dangerous as being addicted to any other substance. Love will fuck you up and make you blind to your emotional vampire’s bad behavior. You won’t see it clearly until after you’re clean.
An example of Lestat’s bad behavior, well according to the book of Love, which was badly written by the way because it gives you a false sense of reality. In any case, example number one; back when I had been dating him, I’m going to say about five or six years into our relationship I was on my way to work one morning. I was driving down I-10 passing Lomaland and traffic was getting pretty thick, so much so that passing Lomaland it was almost at a standstill. As I approached the Yarbrough exit a kind woman in a small SUV pulled up beside me, she motioned for me to lower my window and she said “Your tire is almost flat, I just thought I’d let you know.” I thanked her and slowly pulled off I-10, which was no small feat since I was in the middle lane and I had to get to the far right so I could either pull to the shoulder or make my way off of the freeway altogether. I managed to drive my car onto the McDonalds on the corner of Yarbrough and I-10. I got down to take a look at my tire, and I was already flat on its rim. Already late for work I pulled my cell phone out and called the office and left a message with one of the work study’s to let my boss about what was going on. Then I proceeded to all Lestat as I waited anxiously in my car, he answered and I told him what had happened. What he said next made my heart drop (I can still feel to this day exactly how I felt at that very moment). I told him that my front tire was flat, and he responded with “I’m sorry babe I can’t leave the job site right now, we’re pouring concrete, sorry.”
One first needs to understand that when you say you love someone you will help them when they need it, I knew he was at a job site that morning but I didn’t think it was such an imposition for him to leave for maybe half an hour to drive me to work while I figured out what I was going to do with my flat tire. I couldn’t believe the response to my cry for help, but then again in retrospect it shouldn’t have been because after all the insensitive motherfucker did let me sleep outside on an inflatable mattress in the middle of an El Paso August because he wouldn’t help me with $79 dollars. And it’s not like I wasn’t going to pay him back. But that day with the flat tire I couldn’t believe it, yet another time when I needed his help the most, he abandon me because he “had” to be at work.
No, he didn’t “have” to be at work, he was partners with his brother and they were both there but realizing that he was a controlling bastard he couldn’t or should I say wouldn’t let his brother take over for half an hour to go help me. I told him I had to go because I needed to figure out what I was going to do to try to get to work. I didn’t let him finish talking to me and hung up the phone besides the asshole was pouring concrete god forbid it dries up on his ass while he’s on the phone. So I locked up my car leaving it in the parking lot of the McDonald’s and walked up to the Walmart. I was wearing heels and trying to walk without looking like I was in sheer agony trying to make it up the steep hill, across the parking lot and into the store to the automotive department. Yet I was in pain by the time I got into the store and I took off my heels (because it was 6:45am and there was really no one there) I looked for a couple of cans of Fix-A-Flat, put my shoes back on and I made my way to the checkout to pay for my purchase.
The guy behind the register was nice enough to ask me if I knew how to use the Fix-A-Flat and although I knew he was being genuine in his inquiry, I felt annoyed at the fact that I might have looked like I might not. I blew the hair out of my face and said “yes I do, thank you” and took my bad and began to walk back to my car, thank God this time the walk was going downhill. My feet were already aching and I was sweating like a pig and my hair had already gone flat because I could feel it falling into my face with sweat and aggravation. Half way between the Walmart and my car I finally took off my heels and walked back the rest of the way with my purse, the Walmart bag and my shoes in my hands, fumbling around like Bridget Jones, awkwardly aware I looked like shit.
I got to my car, opened the door and threw everything in the passenger side and took one can of the Fix-A-Flat and began to inject my tire with some life, something I lacked at that moment. As I heard the whizzing of the goopy gel flowing from the can into my tire I began to cry out of frustration and anger. I replayed the conversation I had had with that ingrate and undependable motherfucker, thinking to myself he claims he loves me but he sure as hell doesn’t show it. I looked down towards my dress and it had black smudge on it, probably from the tire and my pantyhose had torn and were running down my leg and my feet were dirty from walking barefoot from the parking lot of the Walmart to my car. For a split second I contemplated going back home because of the physical and emotional state I was in, but I didn’t. I soldiered on and as soon as I saw my tire fully inflated again I made my way to work. I got to the office and in a futile attempt to try and look decent I spent fifteen minutes in the ladies room trying to undo the chaos that the morning had cruelly thrust upon me.
I managed to clean myself up and go about my day as positively as I could. I decided (again) that I wasn’t going to answer his calls the rest of the day. Of course that didn’t happen, he had called after I got to work and asked me if I was okay. The inner me said “of course I’m not okay you asshole! I had a horrible morning and you didn’t think I wasn’t important enough to leave for a little while so you could help the woman you claim to love!” But the outter me said “Yes I’m okay” and he asked me how I got to work and I explained to him what I had done. Then instead of saying something positive all he could manage was “Fix-A-Flat fucks up the inside of your tire with that green gel, you should have called a tow-truck.” My hand tightened its grip on the received of my phone, I could feel the sweat accumulate and my fingers felt as though as if I didn’t release it they would go numb. My inner voice yelled “Because I barely had money to buy the two cans of Fix-A-Flat let alone call a goddamned tow truck!”
I didn’t say anything, I only cleared my throat and sighed loudly, he then said “I’ll be there in a bit to take your car so I can get the tire fixed.” It didn’t make any difference that he decided he would help me, because at the moment I needed him he wasn’t there for me, like I was whenever he needed me for whatever it was he asked me to do. I said for him to call me when he was in the parking lot so I could send the work study down with the key’s to my car. He asked if I wasn’t going to go down and I lied to him and said I had a meeting to attend and couldn’t. I just didn’t want to have to see his face because I was still angry. Needless to say he bought me another tire because he said the remedy I used to fix it would ruin my tire in the long run. I didn’t care, I just wanted to go home that day and forget about the events of that morning. Stay tuned for part 16……..