Creepy

So I am getting a lot of emails and commentary about {D} from people he worked with. Every last damn one of them call him creepy and say "this explains so much." Doesn't it though? See if someone had told me that before I wouldn't have understood what the hell they were talking about. {D} is remarkably charming, all psychopaths are superficially charming. I was immediately charmed by him the moment I met him, but I also have a tendency to gravitate towards alcoholic psychopaths with blue eyes. And lawyers, lots of lawyers.

When {D} and I met back in 2018, we had an instantaneous connection. We can literally look at each other and know what the other is thinking. This was part of the problem with him lying to me because I always knew when he was lying. Those few few dates, which I often referred to as "Round 1" because we would drift away from each other and then come back together for another round. I have forgotten so many men I've known for but a night or two, but  {D} always stayed in my memory. I think it was the connection, that was the thing. But, I remember round 1 and a few weird things happened, like him almost getting into a physical altercation with a woman on one date. But the moment I will never forget, we were sitting on his fucking 20 year old brown pleather IKEA couch he still probably has and he was to my right. I have no idea what he said to me, but his eyes sparkled and his hair (this was in the comb over days) was dangling in his eyes and I told him "I can see the California surfer boy." He responded "Promise me you'll see me again."

I always saw the good in him. I always saw that part of him. I told him I wanted to see him as a grandpa because he was going to be such a wonderful grandfather. He is hilarious and dry and quippy and sings Warren Zevon songs off key gesticulating each word:

Time on my hands. Time to kill. Blood on my hands. And my hands in the till. Down at the 7-11. 

That {D} was great. I loved him. I loved the good side that liked to drive fast and ate nothing but mexican food. I know he is in hell because there is no good mexican food in Vermont. Years ago we were laying in my bed and we started singing Partridge Family songs to each other and then I had to explain the yellow dress in Copa Cabana by Barry Manilow to him. That was my absolute favorite memory of {D} that was way before the video, like years. 

I was blind to the other side of him. I mean that altercation with that woman always struck me as him being very angry at women, however, I didn't see it. I always said his teeth gleam like a cartoon shark when he smiles, something just a hint sinister to what is happening in his head. I didn't notice beyond that. He kept telling me people were intimidated by him and afraid of him and I was like "Why?" He said his employees were scared of him and no one called him by his nickname, just his legal name. He gave me "the look" and I was immediately terrified and asked him never to look at me like that again, so you know he would when I was asking too many questions or getting on him for the lies I had just caught him in. He would look at me like that and say "this is tiresome." He would also do it with the words "This conversation is boring" which was code for I just went over his head with something intellectual and he couldn't hang and didn't want to admit he didn't know. He was so confused by physics and math it was hilarious and cars. It always pissed him off I knew more about cars than him. We worked on his bike together, he is a pathetic excuse for a mechanic. 

As I write this I do seriously question what the hell blinded me to him? Like this man would regularly threaten to punch me or beat me or whatever because I did something. He looked at me with those dead flat gray eyes when he fucked me. Why didn't I see it. Why couldn't I see it? Why couldn't I see he was hurting me when he told me he loved me while he raped me. Why the hell couldn't I see it? 

I mean trauma bonding is a thing, I just wish I could see it. I actually look at the phenomenon of trauma bonding and I look at the truly codependent relationships I have had and every man I had an instant connection with. The instant connection is of course the trauma bond, I can see them as abusers, I see it but I recognize it as a connection and love.

Truth be told, I married Brian 1 because I didn't like him. I had decided I had bad taste in men and I was just going to marry one I didn't like, so, some boring assed accountant from kansas with a small dick who thought he hit the jackpot with the beautiful smart sex addict, because he was thinking with his dick? I locked that shit down. He then beat the shit out of me for 15 years. That mischaracterizes him, he had rage issues and it was only when I couldn't talk him down that is when he would lose it on me and it didn't happen every day, like maybe a few times a year. See hold on why am I making excuses for him at this point? No yeah he beat me fuck him, that is  not a misrepresentation.

Do you see how fucked up all this shit is in my head?

So to everyone wondering about the {D} they knew and worked with and how any woman would want the short bald psychotic prick, I hope that explains some it. This has really made me think and I need to call my therapist on monday because I did just kind of talk myself into a bit of a breakthrough there. I have been trying to date and I am so bored by these men and most of them are either sexually or intellectually intimidated by me, like specifically those words. But I can't find the connection. Well, that is probably good because I just realized that that connection I am seeking is super fucking unhealthy and how I end up in abusive relationships, hence me dating my rapist.