I'm going to add my unbelievable story to this litany of disbelief, to make it clear that Ns will stop at nothing for the adoration and sadism they crave, and that children are their favorite victims.
After a violent ten-year marriage that produced two lovely daughters, I finally divorced my husband and left, moving into a beautiful place on our own, not far from where I grew up. Almost immediately I met an incredible man on our street who seemed he could be nothing but a reward from Heaven for being so kind and faithful to my ex-husband for so long. The new man was happy, funny, smart, wealthy, accomplished, with a prominent public position but totally down to earth. At fifty, he'd never been married and claimed a woman had broken his heart as a young man, leaving him afraid to love again. I found out later that heâ€™d dated the woman for ten years but then left her after their engagement because she wanted to get married on Thanksgiving weekend (the anniversary of his enabling, worshipful motherâ€™s death, which was the only day in the coming year that her family could all come in from out of state for the event). When I met him, my N had just bought a house in our area, and as the months went by we became very close, he loved my daughters and they loved him. As he worked to remodel it, he talked about the house as ours, the new kitchen as mine, "our bedroom" "the girls' room" and he made it clear that marriage and babies with me was the dream that was finally going to come true. "I never thought this would happen for me," he said. "I never thought I'd find you."
After many months, he â€œfinally felt safe enoughâ€ to take me around his family and friends. Everywhere we went, he had me sit on his lap. He kissed me freely and even sometimes put his hand down my dress in front of people. It was kind of weird, but I was flattered that he felt so amorous and didnâ€™t care who saw it. During the height of the â€œin love-nessâ€ he was over one night and a girlfriend of his rang my bell. I was still having problems with my ex-husband coming over, so I was mortified, thinking it was him, that he would cause a scene and would ruin things for me and my N. I played dumb and said, feigning fear, â€œWho could that be?â€ My N. said, â€œI donâ€™t know.â€ I said, â€œShould I answer it?â€ He said, â€œI wouldnâ€™t.â€ Well finally, because the person was leaning on the buzzer and my daughters were asleep, I went to the door, knowing it was my ex, and asked stupidly, â€œWho is it?â€™ A female voice asked me to send out my N.
He went out to talk to her and I listened as she cried and said, â€œWhy do you call me and tell me you love me? Why do you make love to me if youâ€™re with her?â€ He came in and told me it was all lies, that she was crazy and he hadnâ€™t seen her in almost a year, and that he would never talk to her again. The whole time he â€œexplainedâ€ his phone kept ringing and texts kept coming in. He left five minutes later, saying he was tired. The next day he admitted that heâ€™d promised her heâ€™d leave if she would leave. She was waiting outside for him to go. The episode passed. He said he was so scared the event would make me leave him, and that he was so happy I trusted him.
After ten months together, we were cooking in my kitchenâ€”which he at first loved to doâ€”and he suddenly sat me down on the floor and cried, saying heâ€™d never been so happy. His brother had told me that he had never cried in his life, even as a baby, so this was a hugely flattering, moving thing. He said he wanted to get engaged, but that he couldn't propose to me. Heâ€™d proposed before, he said, and was afraid because their engagement fell apart. He wanted me to do it. That was fine with me. I even bought him a ring--the one he specifically asked for--and prepared the special night. You have to understand, too, that this man is a multi-millionaire and Iâ€™m a struggling writer and single mother and bought him a diamond ringâ€”and one worthy of a man in his position.
The week before I was going to propose, he told me he was taking in a four-year-old foster child in two days. He had never mentioned being a foster parent, never spoke of the idea at all. To put it mildly, I was horrified. I felt like the rug had been pulled out from under my entire life. How could someone I felt so incredibly close to, with whom I was planning marriage and children, make such a bizarre, life changing decision without talking to me about it? And who would give this single, middle-aged man with no children a baby? I somehow knew this was the end of us, but he pleaded with me to agree to it, saying the child would be ours, that we would raise him together and, if it came to it, adopt him together. He also promised we would carry on with our own plans to get married, move in together and have a baby as soon as possible. When I told him I couldnâ€™t be a mother to a child in another house and asked him if we could move in together first and then have foster children in, he said, â€œHow can you be so cruel to an innocent child? He has nowhere else to go. If you canâ€™t handle it, lose my number.â€ I found out later that he was in huge demand by younger, trained and experienced married couplesâ€”including one that was raising his own baby brother-- and that my N had used his political power to get him for his own. I was in such incredible shock I went along with it. What could I do? The next week, I was preparing for the proposal and teasingly said, "Now you're gonna say yes, right? Don't make me look stupid." He laughed and said, "Honey, don't be silly. We hardly know each other." A year later, after many failed attempts, I threw the ring in the river.
To have watched what became a bizarre, sick, twisted scenario unfold is beyond anything I can describe. This man literally walked away from my children and me after two years, picked up the child at the group home, went in his house, and locked the door behind them. He called me to come over and get him out from under the dining room table, he asked me to help him find a doctor, and he asked me to go along to get his shots caught up (the N is terrified of needles). When that was all settled, the N stopped talking to my daughters and stopped coming over. We were all overwhelmingly hurt and angry. I asked him to please talk to them, to explain the situation to them and tell them he loved them and that we were all going to be a family, and he rolled his eyes and said, â€œOh, brother. Theyâ€™ll get over it.â€
He put locks on his gates that he never had before ( I used to go into his yard and plant and water the flowers for him), and he immediately started lying to me so he and the child could go to friends' and women's houses alone, him the heroic "single dad" with a selfless heart and his poor little orphan. Everyone fawned over him, most of them not even knowing he had a girlfriend and two other children he'd shut off like a light. My offers to babysit were roundly rejected. Only a â€œfamily friendâ€ down the street could watch the child (who, I found out later, wants to marry him and be the childâ€™s mother). I was not allowed to meet the social worker, the case worker, or go to court dates. He stopped coming to dinner at night, stopped visiting for our quiet time, stopped everything.
Now the message seems loud and clear, but while he was demonstrating all of this, he was saying, still saying, that he wanted to get married, that he wanted to have babies with me, that we were all going to be together, that it was all going to work out. The few times I saw him and his â€œsonâ€ together, it was the child in his lap and him saying to the child, "Do you love me? Do you love me? Can I have a kiss? Do you love me?" The child had a baby brother who was given up by his mother at birth. The baby was adopted by a well to do couple in a pleasant area. When they found out about the older brother, they wanted to take him in, too, so they could be together, but my boyfriend refused to let "his" child go. Last summer, he and the child went to California for a week to visit "an old friend, one of my college buddies" --a guy's name. When they got back, the child told me they had stayed with a woman and all slept in the same bed together. I was yelled at for "causing trouble" when I demanded to know what the hell was going on. To this day he has never apologized or explained it.
The two of them hang out at bars together, sometimes until eleven at night, and everyone thinks itâ€™s â€œso cute.â€
My N does not like intercourse, but loves rough sex. His eyes are always closed tightly. He refuses to get into an actual bed for any of it, however: it must be on the couch or the floor. We have only slept overnight together once, when he reluctantly went out of town with me for a friend's wedding. He told me that I couldnâ€™t touch him, that I could just lay my head against his chest. While dressing that morning, he took his phone into the shower with him. We are not allowed to have sex in his house at all, because Iâ€™m â€œtoo messy.â€
The text messages of "Honey, I miss you," "Baby, where are you?" etc go on and on and on, in an endless, meaningless, debasing string. He lives on the same block as me, which is TORTURE.. If I tell him I absolutely cannot see him anymore he will wait a day and then come up behind me on the sidewalk and literally pull up my skirt or put his hand down my shirt. He has no sense of any propriety, any morals, any ideals, any beliefs. He has no concept of the idea that other people have value, dreams, desires, needs, human rights of any kind. He is interested in nothing but politics that affect his career, money, and whatever woman is walking by at the moment. It has gotten to the point where his brother and his babysitter basically keep his â€œchildâ€ alive until he needs to take him along somewhere to make himself look kind, selfless and, of course, attractive to women. He refused to spend Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve or Day or New Year's Eve with me, even though we had nowhere else to go. He just ignored my phone calls and refused to even tell meâ€”his girlfriend of four years-- where he was going. When his â€œchildâ€ turned five, my little daughtersâ€”who think of him as their brotherâ€”made him a cake, cards and bought him presents, which they wrapped themselves. We planned to have a family party but the night before my N. took the child and left during the night without a word. They came back two days later and, as it turns out, had been to the summer home of a local politician, a close family friend who doesnâ€™t even know about my daughters and me. I said, â€œHow could you do this to the girls and me? He was supposed to be our son!â€ my N said, â€œWho cares?â€ The next day he begged me to stay with him, and the day after that he went to California for a week.
I ended up with a psychiatrist, on drugs that totally screwed me up and had me calling his friends in tears, totally out of control, lost, totally lost. Of course, I have since been known as the woman who "doesn't know how to act" and who makes people uncomfortable with talk of our personal life. "No one wants to hear that, "he says, "What's wrong with you?" But he is so good at it, so charming, so disarming, so convincing that it still goes on. In January, when I had finally broken free--I thought--and started seeing another man, he came to my house in tears, took me in his arms, and told me he has cancer. Guess what? He doesn't. Before I found out he was lying, I told his brothers, as he refused to tell them or to go for treatments. He told them I am crazy and that I made it up to get attention. When I asked him what animal would tell the woman who loves him that heâ€™s dying he looked at me and laughed and said, â€œOh, honey, take your clothes off.â€
This past month, he and his â€œchildâ€ moved into â€œourâ€ beautiful new house. I have not been allowed inside, though all of the neighbors have had tours of it. Last week he went to Las Vegas with his brothersâ€”which they do for a week twice a yearâ€”and left his â€œchildâ€ with the â€œfamily friendâ€â€”who he moved into his old apartment next door as soon as he moved. She does not speak to my daughters or me, and he defends this, saying, â€œShe doesnâ€™t want your drama.â€ So sheâ€™s living in his apartment, which I was rarely allowed in and was never given a key to. During the week in Vegas, my daughter received her First Communion, which I told him about ten months ago. When he told me he wouldnâ€™t be hereâ€”four days before it-- I burst into tears. He said, â€œOh, GOD! Do you EVER STOP?!â€
Saturday night, after my daughterâ€™s Communion party, while he was in Vegas, a woman rang my bell at 4 am looking for him. When I told him, he said, â€œNo wayâ€ and claimed I was lying. Needless to say, he texted me, â€œHappy Motherâ€™s Dayâ€ at five oâ€™clock in the afternoon and then asked if I was going to wait up for him to get home, â€œwink wink.â€ When I said no, he said, â€œNice, honey. Iâ€™m gone for a week and then you donâ€™t even want to see me.â€ He continued to text me, asking if he could come visit at night. I said, â€œIâ€™m going to stop over right now to chat.â€ When he opened the door, I said, â€œHi, welcome homeâ€ and started to walk in. He literally grabbed my dress and ripped it, keeping me from going in his house. â€œShhhhhhhh,â€ he whispered. â€œtheyâ€™re playing!â€ â€œWho?â€ I said. The brother and foster child. So I was not allowed in the house because they were PLAYING and I would somehow disrupt the wacko dynamic.
I told him not to call me anymore, screaming at him in the street of course. By the time I got home, thirty feet away, he had texted me again, asking what time he could come over. I said, â€œDo you realize you have a STALKER and I donâ€™t want you in my house because my children may be in danger?â€ â€œDo you realize you just ripped my dress because Iâ€™m not allowed inside your home?â€ â€œDo you realize you are a fifty-two year old alcoholic, chain-smoking single man raising a five-year-old orphan with your brother and the neighbor who wants to f**k you?â€ Do you realize you missed our little girlâ€™s First Communion because you were lying by the pool in Las Vegas?â€ He said, â€œWhat time, baby?â€
This morning, my best friend who Iâ€™ve known since kindergarten gave birth to her first baby, a little boy. I called the N to tell him. His response? â€œWhat does that have to do with me?â€