Side Piece

A narcissist can seem to love you. A narcissist can make it look like love. A narcissist can say the words of love. A narcissist can think it’s love. Unfortunately, when involved with a narcissist, you are enmeshed but not in love. You can be enmeshed and mistake that for love. But enmeshment and love are not the same thing. Enmeshment is an unusual relationship situation that can be very hard to identify when it’s happening to you.

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When you’re involved with a narcissist, it is a natural state of things. Unfortunately a person who grows up to become an adult narcissist did not feel safe to separate from his/her caregiver in early childhood. As a result, an adult narcissist is enmeshed with other people and is unaware that others exist as separate beings. It’s as if one person in the “mesh” does not exist – and it’s you.

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A healthy relationship involves two separate individuals who merge and connect. There is joy and relief in both separating and connecting. In a relationship with a narcissist, the fact of enmeshment means you are not separate so you can’t connect. It’s as if you exist for the purpose of the narcissist. It’s commonly described as if you are an “extension” of the narcissist.
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Narcissists use sex as a tool – to obtain something from you, to get you to do something they want, and prior to giving it up altogether, they will usually act as if being intimate with you is a chore. The mask has slipped, and you’ve glimpsed the darkness it hides.

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The kind, adoring, wonderful, too-good-to-be-true persona you fell for was never real, and neither was the sexual creature you thought he was. To the disordered, sex is transactional in nature. The enthusiastic, acrobatic, anything-goes romps were as much a tool to hook you and reel you in as their loving words and adulation were.

A relationship with a Narcissist has been compared to being on a roller coaster, with immense highs and immense lows. They have been described as the proverbial Jekyll and Hyde, one way one minute, another the next. People usually get into relationships for love and the need to connect and bond with another. Narcissists get into relationships for entirely different reasons. They do not feel love and they lack the ability to connect and form normal attachment bonds with others.

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At the start of round 2, I was indifferent towards having sex with Ben. In fact, I leaned towards not wanting sex with him at all, just the thought of that eerie “sex as a weapon” sensation from round 1 left me feeling nauseous. Ben knew how to make all the right moves, say all the right words, and put me in all the right positions to turn my indifference into infatuation and then into an all-out addiction. Ben sure was a charmer — when he wanted something — not to mention he’s manipulative like none other and the most phenomenal con artist that I’ve ever known. I took his kind, endearing words at face value, which are currently poised to leave me dead if I can’t get the greatest attorney in the universe to help me find my way out of this mess.

Keep in mind that I never wanted sex with Ben in the first place. He’s the one that kept on trying and trying until I ultimately agreed – but only under one condition, as noted above. I agreed to sex with Ben only because he promised he wouldn’t discard me. And I actually thought he had a choice in the matter and could be held to his word. Stupid me…

When Ben first resurfaced, I was still a naive, empathetic fool, having little sexual experience or street smarts under my belt. I never considered that anyone, especially Ben, was inherently evil deep-down and was only here to destroy me. I recognized Ben always thought about himself first, he openly admitted that, but I interpreted his kind gestures and desire to “train” me on how to have sex to mean he liked me, not that he was using sex as a weapon to murder me. Ben knew I was sheltered and I only saw the good in others, using that to his advantage in setting the stage for the smear of all smears against me.

Ben knew he had an ulterior motive in all he did whereas I was genuine and transparent, taking the relationship seriously. Our relationship was a state-sponsored joke gone awry. My sexual awakening would ultimately be my sexual death – and for the second time in a row. Jesus, Mary, mother of God, sister of Yetzel, those are some shitty ass odds, and this was before Zersetzung hit. Maybe my upbringing that left me convinced that sex was bad was accurate after all.

Ben had this uncanny ability to “read” me (and anyone for that matter) perfectly, thus discovering how to transform into everything I ever wanted and needed in a partner. Although he spun it like he’d done me some favor, he later admitted he only showed me one side of him, knowing what he revealed in that side would cause me to fall in love. He claimed because I’d never found love, he wanted to be the one that gave it to me. I think that’s bullshit, he wanted me to fall in love with him so I’d be easier to manipulate and exploit. I was so hurt when he admitted to knowingly and intentionally deceiving me with fake love.

Ben had a strange way of doing “kind” things for me that somehow involved bringing him pleasure while withholding essential information from me about his motivations.

Despite being the one that called Ben out as a narcissist, I was still completely clueless about what a narcissist is. I believed Ben was real, I believed I knew the “true” Ben, and I believed he was sincere in wanting to see me succeed, even if it was so he could benefit from it. It was in things like that where the narcissism manifested, or so I thought, being clueless that Ben wanted me to fail miserably and benefit from that. This is a very difficult disorder to understand.

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Ben knew precisely what he was doing in targeting my sexual inexperience. Now only was he up for the challenge, he was up to use his sexual weaponry skills to gain leverage. Plus he knew I was a fast learner, highly observant, and always trying to please, so he chose to cast himself as Mr. Miyagi in his scripted version of my sexual awakening. He attributed my improvement to his coaching skills all the while intentionally (and knowingly) leading me to the slow-cooked slaughter of organized filth. And here I thought it was love, no, it was premeditated murder. Narcissists have this creepy way of mixing sex, punishment, pleasure, pain, pain, torture, fake love, future faking, false promises, happiness and hopelessness into one giant ice cream scoop of confusion they call “sex as a weapon.”

The sex went from an okay learning experience for me to… out of this world, incredible for us both. Sex with Ben was something I never imagined possible between two people, at least not with one of those people being me. Our one day each weekend quickly turned into marathon, hours-long sex sessions, one event after the next. He was gifted in bed and he knew it; plus he knew how to add on all the bells and whistles, there was nothing he wouldn’t do sexually, nothing he couldn’t do well sexually, and nothing that was too taboo for him. Plus he was hot, he was extremely handsome, he was fit, he had a gorgeous body, he was flexible, he was versatile, and he knew how to put on quite a show; it seemed like Ben’s purpose on Earth was to spread sexual enjoyment. Little did I realize the enjoyment was being used as a weapon, which I should have suspected since round one. But sex was altogether new to me and I truly believed Ben’s compliments.

Despite helping me become a sexual being, I was still quite sexually sheepish. Ben could bring out the sexual side for us both, while I remained hidden, tail between my legs, and still came out feeling more and more confident each time. Before I knew it, Ben spending his one weekend day with me was a given I grew accustomed to. There was one day when he came and left 13 times for sex in leas than 24 hours! It was odd but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity, us being together was definitely never boring and, with time, it just kept getting better and better.

Ben knew he could transform me into exactly what he wanted me to be for his own selfish use before throwing me away like trash. Ben always said it was my mind he found most attractive about me. That line was total bullshit, Ben hated my mind as I was the one person to call him out on his secret.

There was something else he liked more than my mind, something he was willing to tolerate all the qualities he detested in me to have for use at his discretion: my penis.

Despite Ben being my penis’s biggest fan, outside of referring to it as “his” penis, he never really gave me compliments on my dick, he never said I had a big dick, he never said I had a pretty penis either, instead he’d give me as much of a compliment was he could, referring to it as a “fat” dick.

Later on when the cyber-stalking ensued on gay chat apps and sites, every other profiles would approach me to say I had a “fat dick” oddly, even if the pictures were of me with clothes on. Regardless, Ben made my penis his penis and kept the secret all to himself, without me realizing he was also cock-blocking me on Grindr by filling my Grindr somehow with nothing but fake profiles aimed at isolating me while making me completely dependent on him for sex. That bastard, and here I thought I’d found love at last… rrrghhh…!

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I learned to take whatever compliments Ben gave to heart as they were few and far between, especially after time had passed and they ultimately diminished to none at all. Despite them appearing as compliments at the time…

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…they weren’t, but they flew under the radar. I was so stupid as I failed to realize Ben was mocking me the entire time, and he’d not only returned to get revenge, he’d also returned to set me up for “invisible” murder.

His back-handed compliments became more apparent with time, and I hated them. But I told him this, and in time, he used them less and less, but as they came so naturally to him, they never disappeared altogether. It’s like he didn’t have to think and they just came out so perfectly back-handed.

Bitch!

Soon I found myself craving Ben: his smell, his taste, his everything just turned me on to the point where if I saw him walking into my building from afar, I got butterflies in my stomach. I had just become comfortable having sex with my ex when everything went to hell, and since then, I’d been a sexual recluse. I hadn’t been sexual up until Ben reentered my life and things went from nothing to balls-to-the walls. It got to the point where the only person I could imagine in a sexual light was him, and when I tried with others it was always a let-down, I couldn’t help but compare everyone to Ben, who was a master when it came to anything sexual.

Ben was sex-bombing the hell out of me, I didn’t have to leave my house for anything, he always came to me, he always initiated sex, he always took away the awkwardness I felt with other, and left me with no insecurities about myself.

Ben was definitely a fan of my assets and inexperience, which was a secret to the rest of the world, Ben keeping this secret all for himself, as well. Ben knew had a blank canvass in front of him to modify, teach, use, abuse, and custom-mold me into his ultimate adoring sex fan and object, knowing once I was hooked on him, he’d have me at his disposal to use as he wanted before ultimately throwing me into invisible murder AKA gang stalking. Ben also knew I was trusting and he could talk me into almost anything, and once he did, he could use it against me down the road. And he’d also blame me for it, despite him doing this without my consent. He ultimately told me the maximum he’d ever love-bombed a guy was 30 days, whereas I got 18 months. He claimed he’d loved-bombed me into uncharted waters and didn’t know how to get me out, before becoming livid that I had his boyfriend’s number in my phone (I’d had it fro years) and stormed out, discarding me on the spot where I was stuck in uncharted waters all alone. His rebuttal to constantly discarding me:

Because you're not happy with your own life, your own husband. So I guess that means start shit with me.I always came back didn’t I? What was the most time you went without seeing me? A week, maybe 2?

Fucking turd face; every time he did this, it was like sticking a dagger through my heart which, unknowingly to me, made this fucking trauma bond grow stronger and stronger. Evil, evil, evil… but back to the sex and manipulation…

Would you ever consider that the person investing all this time into teaching you the basics of sex education concurrently be setting you up for slow cooked death?

Some narcissists are sadistic, getting gratification from punishing or hurting others. Few people are more dangerous, especially if they are in positions of power.Only someone that’s been with a narcissist would ever consider something so strange… and despite my first boyfriend falling along this spectrum, I still hadn’t grasped this concept yet.

Plus after getting to know Ben better, I think my first was more so a sociopath than a narcissist, but the two are nearly identical with a few minor differences. If I thought the first was manipulative and knew how to play the love-bombing game, Ben’s art in the skills of narcissism surpassed his by leaps and bounds. Ben was truly the narc of all narcs, he was beyond impressive, hell, he managed to gain the support of the DEA, shit!

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I believed Ben had a genuine interest in me  and that sex was the ultimate thing two people could share. The idea of sex being a means to an end wasn’t considered by me despite remembering Ben’s frequent use of the phrase “sex as a weapon” in round one.

Despite having read that narcissists can’t love, Ben’s magnificent acting skills led me to believe he had strong feelings towards me at least. I was wrong, I was dead wrong, no pun intended… only I had no idea how dead wrong I was back then.

I was led to believe I was more than Ben’s side-piece, with Ben insisting time and again that I was part of the main course.

I wasn’t aware that I was balancing out Ben’s real main course, not an equal part of it, and that his relationship void of sex and affection as relying on me to give him all my heart, my body, and all the attention and energy imaginable until I was a shriveled up, lifeless snail of my former self. Keep in mind that Narcissistic Personality Disorder makes no logical sense whatsoever, and the narcissist lives primarily in a fantasy world where reality is what he wants it to be at any given moment, not what reality truly is.

Huh?!?!?
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For some reason, Ben’s kind words, riddled with fluff and bullshit, always made me a believer… as well as a fool.

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Despite Ben wanting me looking at the brown side of the grass for having committed the ultimate offense, after his return in round 2, he found the emotional and physical attention I provided was like nothing he’d experienced before. That’s, in part, because physiologically / sexually I reacted to him like a teenager, he was basically my first regular sexual partner despite being 30 years old. He couldn’t get enough of my attention, it left him feeling more validated than he’d felt in his lifetime. And I, on the other hand, misinterpreted his kind words to mean he actually felt them — as opposed to being how he wanted to feel in the moment, thus not lies but rather “my truth’s.” Ben knew just what words to use to pull at my heart strings, too, and I believed them, I clung to them, and they made me view Ben as having a kind heart underneath his stubborn exterior.

I gave Ben authentic love, which is precisely what he sought; he ended up getting the best narcissistic supply from me in the universe. True, authentic, unconditional love isn’t easy to come by these days, but Ben’s appreciation wasn’t reciprocated at least not for long.

At the time I was clueless as to what was really taking place. I had no idea what narcissistic supply even was. I legitimately thought that Ben really dug me, I thought that we were an “item.” Only we weren’t’ really an item, I was an item – an object, an extension of Ben to use as he saw fit. In the beginning he saw fit to use me for good things (or so I thought) and I loved it, I didn’t question his motives, I thought he was honest, loving and inherently good, just slightly egocentric in how he viewed the world around him. I felt special to be Ben’s “chosen one.” I felt honored to be so lucky, only I failed to realize it was a giant curse. Sex was brand-new to me and Ben was singing my sexual praises, allowing me to feel comfortable in my own skin for the first time. I was in heaven for the first time in ages.

I took his words at face value, failing to realize that the boy had 1,000 different faces or masks.

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Sex sure is a powerful weapon, especially for someone that grew up in the Bible belt, hating himself for being gay, and never becoming sexually comfortable in his own skin. Ben was monumental to me whereas I was merely some guinea pig in a twisted experiment depriving me of all my rights. And I called it love… ugh…

Ben knew that about it, and he milked every last bit of it…

While Ben always claimed to be a versatile top, suddenly he wanted to bottom all the time for me. I had not seen us going in that direction but Ben was accurate in his assessment, and I truly fell in love with his bum, I did. That ass was solid, it was large, it was beautiful, and it was amazing. While I learned the basics of sex from my ex, it was Ben who took things to a whole new level.

He always gave me pointers on how to improve (and I’d do them, and watch as he became more and more impressed), and so I credit Ben for being the one that actually broke me into the world of sex. He was a connoisseur when it came to sex, and he was adamant about instructing me on the right way to do things in bed. I also credit Ben for being the one that corrupted me in truly exposing me to the “dark side.”. Ben prided himself on my sexual progress, he loved mentioning how bad I was when we first met compared to how much I’d excelled in bringing him pleasure on the regular. He’d always give me pointers:

 You need to get more rhythm in your stroke.

I’d take his words to heart, and Ben seemed so impressed in how he could so easily mold me to be what he wanted me to be for him. Watching me grow sexually and singing my praises also made his already large ego grow to ginormous proportions. Thanks to his one-on-one instruction in the sack, I turned into his preferred sexual partner in the DMV. Ben was definitely heavy on the flattery and flirtatiousness, which made my insecurities disappear, his words were hyperbole at its best:.

You’re my favorite top, hand’s down. Any time you want sex don’t hold back – just text me. If I’m having sex with someone else I’ll even get up and leave so you can fuck me!

While I thought that was the ultimate compliment at first, I realized quickly he was putting me in my place. While he’d stop having sex with another guy to have sex with me instead, he made it repeatedly clear that there would always be other guys he had sex with because I wasn’t worthy of monogamy.

No matter how much Ben led me to believe our sex was amazing and special, he’d manage to find some underhanded remark to throw me off slightly. But they weren’t fully back-handed and he’d deny these anyway so I kept my mouth shut.

Ben was one that seemed very confident in his looks and performance, it’s like he viewed himself almost as a sexual god. He dubbed himself my sexual “coach” and transformed me into what he claimed he saw in me when we first met. “When I saw your dick, I knew what you could become,” he told me, which I found strange, given that he’d never once complimented anything about me during round 1, if anything it was the opposite.

I knew when I first met you that one day we’d be just like this. I’ve got you exactly how I wanted you.

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Despite the fact that the statement seemed inaccurate based on my recollection of history, hearing that made my self-esteem rise above sea level, it rose to the heavens, I felt on top of the world at last. He wanted sex in every way, shape and form, sex in every possible location, he brought all these sex toys and oils and just about everything under the sexual sun to house in a cabinet in my bedroom. The things that came out of Ben’s mouth or through his fingers via text never ceased to amaze me…

While I continued sensing some occasional back-handed compliments, or “jabs” as I’d call them, I could never prove he was actually doing this or intending to leave me second-guessing things. So I chose to just accept them all as compliments, and I truly believed every word he said. Why wouldn’t I? Minus the gratuitous sexual content, the majority of what Ben said was so beautiful and so full of kindness and positivity that I stopped trying to analyze the situation and accepted what I saw via his actions: Ben wanted me as an integral part of his life.

HIV left me feeling so alone and without hope for a future, but having Ben there with me changed everything and made having HIV a moot point. I couldn’t have found a more loving, kind and perfect man to be at the center of my universe. Except that I wasn’t the center of his universe sadly.

But overall, looking back, those were some beautiful, memorable days; every spare second Ben had, he was either by my side, or hitting me up to make plans to be by my side. He’d text me on Monday, asking me to pencil him in the next weekend. 

Making plans? Why bother; it’s not as if he had to talk me into anything at that point, I was hooked, I’ll admit it, I was addicted to Ben. Addicted, no joke, that’s the only way I can describe it. If I went 2 days without seeing him it felt like I was going through a withdrawal.

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is plans4.jpgBut it was rare that I went 2 days without seeing Ben, so it wasn’t all that bad, at least not at the time. Ben wouldn’t let me go 2 days without seeing him as making plans with me was his top priority. I’ll never forget waking up one morning to someone holding me in bed. I just about had a heart attack when I realized it was… Ben. He was such the opposite of how he was during round 1. Not one, single time – in 18 months – did we see each other without having sex, sex, and more sex. But it was more than just sex: Ben became my best, closest and tightest friend. Ben was not only my best friend, he was also my one and only PPIC – Poz Partner in Crime.

For the first time ever, I consistently forgot all about having HIV. Ben made for an incredible escape, but unlike round 1, he wasn’t here for the short-term he made very clear. I’ve never had someone sweat me like Ben did, it was such a compliment, it was so much fun. And not once did I ever consider wanting to spend that time with someone else, I was perfectly content passing every free moment with my Benjamin. He was soooo good to me, he beyond catered to my every wish, need and fantasy that it was like being in heaven. Ben changed my life completely.. While I was the one that insisted on footing the bill for whatever we were ordering in to eat, or for occasional gas money since Ben always drove to me, he didn’t spend money on me ever, nor did he need to.

He often came by having gone to the 7-11, bringing me 2 things I loved: Gummy Bears and Simply Lemonade, the best.
It was a kind gesture, just thinking back on him carrying a bag into my place still makes me smile. They were probably laced with some sort of biological tracking agent but at the time I was filled with blissful ignorance.

I don’t think there was anything Ben could have meant more than those gummies and lemonade, and of course, our amazing time together. Ben could come off as a bit haughty and reserved at times, perhaps standoff-ish with others, like he didn’t want to interact with other people and was introverted. So the fact that he had so much interest in seeing me all the time made me feel so special; the fact that he was giving me God’s gift to the world of sex on the regular, when my life had been sexless for practically its entirety, gave my existence a whole new meaning. I had found a diamond in the rough, and I believed that diamond was here to stay with me forever.

If someone had told me that in several months, our relationship would be the complete and polar opposite, I’d have said that wasn’t possible, I’d have thought they were smoking crack honestly; this sort of friendship was so monumental it was divine. And if someone had suggested Ben’s fame and notoriety would reach far outside of DC, landing him with fans throughout the nation, the backing of the federal government, and access to everything from the most advanced technology to a “get out of jail free card” for enjoying all the sex, drugs and risky business imaginable, I’d have been 100% certain they were smoking crack.

Looks like somebody’s smoking crack – oh wait – that’s just Ben! 

Life in the world of Narcissistic Personality Disorder are akin to living in the Twilight Zone, I hate to admit that I now know this disorder so well I could probably lecture on it… in my sleep even. At that time, I was blind to reality, I could only see Ben’s beautiful ass and was blind to everything else. We couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 2 minutes without our clothes coming off… nobody’s ever had that effect on me… I appreciated everything Ben did for me, I looked forward to every moment I had with him, and somehow my time with Ben laying around my condo turned into the highlight of my life

But overall, looking back, those were some beautiful, memorable days. Every spare second Ben had, he was spent by my side it seemed. If not, he was hitting me up to make plans to be by my side. He’d text me on Monday, asking me to pencil him in the next weekend, it seemed like I was so lucky to be his “chosen one.”

Later on Ben admitted, although he spun it like he’d done me some favor, to only showing me one side of his “mask” that he knew was necessary in order to make me fall in love. He, of course, said it was because he could tell I’d never found love and wanted to be the one that gave it to me. Bullshit, he wanted me to fall in love with him as a manipulative ploy to make me more easily manipulated.

How could something that was so real to me have been a lie? How can someone create such a false world and let you happily live in it then turn it upside down. Why the hell did I have to experience that?? How can someone be so cruel?

I was so blind to reality, I was such a foolish empath projecting my ways of loving thinking onto Ben. I assumed he felt the same way I did about our hot times together.

And Ben knew how to pull at my heart-strings with his feigned words of kindness.

Plus I was blinded by this new-found thing called sex with Ben that took up all my time, a good 40 hours a week, it was a full-time job and a constant work-out, at least I saw it that way and never saw anything wrong with it.

Ben swore nothing would ever come between us, not even his other man. I bought that lie hook, line and sinker.

The Malignant Narcissist is one of the most severe forms of narcissism, often accompanied by BPD characteristics.They tend to be vile, cruel and malicious, full of self-doubts and self-loathing. They are pathological liars who believe their lies are the truth. Sadism, hatred and uncontrollable aggression are the most common traits whose paranoid features drive self-serving aspirations.

But good things never last for long; at least that’s what I’ve come to discover… and there’s really nothing good that ever comes out of narcissism. You’ll never read a story about a narcissist that has a happy ending, that’s for sure, you’ll never find an article that says having a narcissist in your life can be a neutral experience, trust me, I searched high and low hoping to find one article that said it wasn’t always going to end in complete hell and disarray. I never found it.

Then every so often he’d have to throw out a statement that let you know he was the one that called the shots, and the sex wasn’t so special after all.

WTF?!?!?!?!?

I absolutely know how much this hurts but it is totally Truth

Goddamn narcissists can never leave well enough alone which took me forever to grasp and accept. Just when you start to good about something for a minute, they have to make it rain on you. Big mistake: Since Ben claimed it was against his life philosophy to use his narcissistic traits to do bad or be a full-fledged narcissist, and since he was showering me with so much sex and feigned love, I assumed pointing out some of the obvious traits was helping him reach hi “ideal.” I now realize it was me digging my grave even deeper, but hind sight’s always 20/20. I told him how rotten it made me feel when he’d say sex was suddenly ending; I told him since we were partners, it took away my voice. Jesus, I actually thought he cared, he didn’t give two shits, he was there for the shit show.

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No matter how much Ben led me to believe our sex was amazing and special, he’d manage to find some underhanded remark to throw me off slightly. But they weren’t fully back-handed and he’d deny these anyway so I kept my mouth shut.

Ben was one that seemed very confident in his looks and performance, it’s like he viewed himself almost as a sexual god. He dubbed himself my sexual “coach” and transformed me into what he claimed he saw in me when we first met. “When I saw your dick, I knew what you could become,” he told me, which I found strange, given that he’d never once complimented anything about me during round 1, if anything it was the opposite.

I knew when I first met you that one day we’d be just like this. I’ve got you exactly how I wanted you.

Despite the fact that the statement seemed inaccurate based on my recollection of history, hearing that made my self-esteem rise above sea level, it rose to the heavens, I felt on top of the world at last. He wanted sex in every way, shape and form, sex in every possible location, he brought all these sex toys and oils and just about everything under the sexual sun to house in a cabinet in my bedroom. The things that came out of Ben’s mouth or through his fingers via text never ceased to amaze me…

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While I continued sensing some occasional back-handed compliments, or “jabs” as I’d call them, I could never prove he was actually doing this or intending to leave me second-guessing things. So I chose to just accept them all as compliments, and I truly believed every word he said. Why wouldn’t I? Minus the gratuitous sexual content, the majority of what Ben said was so beautiful and so full of kindness and positivity that I stopped trying to analyze the situation and accepted what I saw via his actions: Ben wanted me as an integral part of his life.

Before I knew it, he was over both days each weekend, then during the week after work. It turned out his boyfriend actually liked working – which was all he did – leaving Ben with nothing else to do but me. Ben showed me more attention than I’d ever received in my life, he paid me more compliments than I’d ever thought possible, and he gave me more sexual pleasure in 18 months than I’ll probably have in the rest of my lifetime.

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Of course the sex led to me developing feelings and assuming that Ben had them, too. So the whole narcissism topic I thought was fare game, after all, he said he saw himself being with me for life. Like everything Ben said, it was a lie, or rather a “my truth” that he wanted to be real in the moment. I landed myself in serious trouble by addressing the NPD like I did, although I never thought I had an audience outside of Ben.

But Ben knew how to hide his true feelings perfectly, and so I never realized when he wanted me dead. Instead, I just thought all the sex, sex, and more sex…

…meat the textbooks got it all wrong. And that Ben was filled with love, love and more love…

…along with a dirty, dirty mind that could think enough dirty thoughts for the two of us.

I thought I’d finally found my soul mate in Ben, I thought I’d finally found my other half.

I thought I’d found the man I’d spend the rest of my life with the way things were going…

It was only once I’d been sucked into his web of lies, deceit and chaos, it wasn’t until I’d unknowingly and unintentionally become so dependent on Ben to help me through his version of my reality that it finally dawned on me that I hadn’t fallen in love with Ben, he’d merely mirrored who I wanted and needed to fall in love with, and I’d actually fallen in love with…

…myself. And that left me feeling kinda lonely, that left me not knowing how to relate to “real” guys that could truly love me authentically. I’d fallen in love with my own mirror image, which made me feel like I’d become a narcissist as well. Fuck balls, I told you nothing involving this goddamn disorder makes a lick of sense, and trying to make sense of nonsense is an exercise in futility.

 

 

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First and second songs composed / performed by me.