I wrote the following poem in August of 2015 at a time when I really thought he was beginning to see and believe in what we had.  Reading it now, I clearly see how mistaken and deluded I was but at the time I believed in him and deeply felt every word of this poem.  He told me a few weeks ago that my whole problem was that I couldn’t handle the fact that he loved someone other than me.  I’m sure he knows in his heart of hearts that it is not as simple as that and that that is not what this is about… he will never admit it to me or maybe even to himself but the part of  him that touched my heart and was touched by mine knows…

I am a woman,

A real woman.

Not who anyone else wants me to be.

Mother, daughter, grandmother, friend, sister, lover

All aspects of the same me.

I know what I can take and

When to say “Enough!”

When to be still, when to move

When to love, when to protect.

They are my choices to make, mine alone and

My chances to take as well.

I have enough love for the whole world and

Dreams to match.

I am wise in so many new ways,

Ways I never knew existed.

The transition from girl to young woman

To the me of now has been a hard journey.

I no longer need, now I know and feel and treasure what and who is.

This recent shift in perspective has been life changing.

I know what I don’t want and what I

Will not put up with ever again.

I am a mother to everyone and

A servant to none but God.

I am a sister to my friends and will stand by

And with them for all time.

It takes a special man to handle the love of the real woman I am now,

A woman of strength and passion.

I am thankful to have finally met such a man, I am his lover and his alone.

My love for him is not controlling or imposing, it is freeing and glorious, as is he.

“Come my love, come share in my journey, as I will share in yours.

Take my hand and walk with me, I will not let you down, I promise.”

It has taken me 60 years to find this place in myself and now with him.

I can finally shut off the voices in my head that would deny me this joy.

They are self-defeating voices carrying leftover pains from the past, a past

Best left behind, not ignored but learned from and then put to rest.

I can now assert and live my right to be who I am, who I’ve always been,

From the beginning of time and now, thankfully, for all time to come.

 

The above italicized words, the ending of the original poem, have been destroyed by the truth of who he is.  My “who I am” remains the same, but in a different way, a damaged soul way of his making. When I thought he was giving me more of himself, he was really just lifting me up so when he decided to step away, I would have farther to fall, he wanted to be sure I would feel the damage he caused to my soul.  I have since learned a lot about people like him.  He feeds off his destruction of women’s souls and he will never stop.  And when caught he will just change venue and begin anew with a new group of woman to choose from, ones who aren’t connected or “friends” with the ones he left behind. Ones who haven’t “heard” about the real man behind the music.  Most of my friends and acquaintances will say I should be over this by now, but those others, the many women I have met on this and other sites who have suffered the abuse of a narcissistic psychopath, have confirmed and will continue to validate the soul damage I am feeling and my need for more time.  I am grateful for their support and love and I hope that sharing my story will help someone else understand that their feelings and pain are real and justified, no matter what “he” might say.

 

 

 

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