There are so many of us out there, trying to recover from the effects of an abusive narcissist and their need for “fuel.” Many of you follow malignnarcs’ (HGs’) posts. He is a self-professed narcissist (although he told me he would call himself a sociopath.)
Yesterday, he posted about an encounter with a former “fuel provider” named L*****. (That was the name of Losers’ (first?) dalliance.
He tells of how he used to refer to her as “it” and how much it upset her. She would cry and ask him not to call her “it” and tell him how bad it made her feel. Of course, he didn’t care.
They hadn’t seen each other in three years but she reached out to him when she came back to town (apparently she broke the no contact rule.)
He said he was quite certain that he would eventually hear from “it.”
He played his part to perfection. He told her everything she wanted to hear and treated her to a fabulous lunch. He used the usual bullshit rhetoric of “remembering her with fondness and affection” and took some responsibility for his actions, blaming “immaturity.”
He knew she would believe everything he said and the whole time he was (in his mind) calling her “it.”
She offered him her new phone number with the hope that they could stay in touch and happily fell right into his hands, unknowingly providing the fuel he knew he’d get.
He motioned for the waiter to come to the table. The waiter brought a gift to her. L***** was moved and said the obligatory “you didn’t have to do that.”
I’m sure she thought it was going to be a touching present. HG sat there with anticipatory pleasure while she opened the gift.
She cried when she saw that it was a DVD….Stephen Kings “IT.”
To me, that was the ultimate emotional execution.
Flashback to Loser. His tactics were similar. He wanted to look like the good guy….like he was trying….sending cards and gifts….telling me how great I was……and picking things up in a store that he “thought I might like.”
He waited until it was too late of course but that way, it could be MY fault that we weren’t “friends” because he was “trying so hard” and I was being a heartless bitch.
When he wanted me to tell him where I was going, he used the same fuel-driven tactics. “I miss you every day….I think about you every day….you’re the love of my life…..I was such a fucking, immature idiot….I just need to know where you are….I need to know that you’re going to be okay……I just need something in my head.” He went on and on….and thought I believed everything he was saying. What he wanted was to not lose that last bit of control and he could see it slipping away. That control was his fuel and he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The last time we talked, my birthday had just passed. He looked at me with this sad, puppy-dog look and said “I wanted to get you a birthday card but I figured you’d tear it up and give it back to me.”
I wanted to say “why the fuck would you get me a birthday card? You’re right. I would have torn it up and given it back to you, because it would have meant just as much to me as you do…..which is less than nothing.”
He had gotten me a Mothers’ Day card just before and I wondered what the hell that was about. He wrote about how proud he was that I was the mother of his children and he wouldn’t have it any other way. (I guess he wouldn’t. Who wants to have children with a tramp?) He went on to write that he “wishes he could go back to 1975 and do it all over again…but ONLY if it was with me and wrote again about how I am the love of his life and always will be.”
It makes me wonder….if he did know where I am, would I be getting cards from him? Would he lie to that WTC and sneak off to the store to buy me a card? If he knew my phone number, would he secretly text me while he was having one of his daily, marathon bathroom visits? Would he be feeding off of the fuel that I was providing when I responded?
When he took that WTC camping, he was secretly texting me the whole time. Maybe he waited until she had to go out in the woods to pee, and then texted me or maybe he lied to her and told her he was texting one of his children. He was certainly feeding off of the fuel then because I responded to every text.
Like HG, he was keeping me close so that I could continue to provide that fuel for him.
Maybe Loser isn’t as smart as HG or maybe his ego is just much bigger, which leaves him vulnerable to a counter-attack. I decided to play with Loser again. When we left the restaurant, he begged me to let him know my plans. He refused to say “goodbye” and repeated the tired, worn-out phrase….”can I have a hug?”
I looked at him in my best “pretend to still care” look and told him I would let him know, only if he gave me his word that he wouldn’t tell anybody. He eagerly gave me his useless word, accompanied by a handshake. He held on when he said “do you promise?” I looked at him and without flinching said “yes, I promise.”
I saw the proverbial look of satisfaction on his face as he walked back to his car, thinking that I had just promised to provide him with more fuel.
I have to say, the person who was satisfied, was me. He had provided Me with fuel.
HE had played right into MY hands. He actually thought that I was going to let him back into my life.
When I got home, I texted him and said “I’ve been thinking. You gave me your word but your word doesn’t mean anything. It never has. The bottom line is, I don’t trust you so I’m not going to tell you anything. And, yes, I promised…but you taught me how to make a meaningless promise, break it and feel absolutely no guilt at all.”
He texted back that he was disappointed but said again, “I just need to know that you’re going to be okay.” He should have thought about that when he was cheating on me and getting diseased.
Loser doesn’t like to lose….but this time… he did.
I wouldn’t doubt that like HG, Loser is probably comfortable in thinking that someday, I will “reach out” to him, hoping that he has changed, hoping that he still cares…..eager to believe his lies and innocently refill his fuel tank.
That’s certainly a possibility….right after Hell freezes over.