Leaving

suitcaseI didn’t know that I was married to a Narcissist when I decided to leave.  I wish I could tell you what the last straw was.  When I think back to that sunny Saturday in July, I try to find where my head was.  It’s not like I had gone to bed the night before, with a plan.  I have never been the kind of person to leave and come back, break up and get back together.  It feels like crossing a bridge.  Once I’ve crossed the bridge, I don’t go back.

On that morning, I had reached a wall or a limit.  I grabbed three boxes, and handed each kid a box, keeping one for my self.  I told them to put their most favorite things in their box.  I told them that we wouldn’t be staying at this house anymore.  I made a game out of it – no long faces, no lengthy explanations.

We were going on an adventure.

He walked in while we were packing and asked what we were doing.  I explained that we were packing boxes for moving.  Without hesitation he asked, “Do you want me to get the truck to help you with the boxes?”

(Weeks later I found the courage to tell him that I had always hoped I had the kind of marriage where, if I decided to leave, my partner might actually attempt to come after me.  I know that contradicts the “crossing the bridge” explanation.  It’s not that I would have actually stayed.  But I really thought/hoped I might have been asked to stay; that this person might have cared enough to try to get me to stay.)

I was stunned when he offered the use of his truck.  With what I know now, that was a real clue to the narcissism.  He had absolutely no use for us if we weren’t going to feed his narcissism.  A narcissist quickly discards those who are no longer interested in providing a source.  When I chose to leave, it became obvious  to him that he needed to be free to find a new source, and the sooner, the better.

My other distinct memory from that day was the certainty and conviction I felt in my decision to leave.  How come I never felt that certainty and conviction on my wedding day?

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