Why did I not see this, and why did I stay?
It is over now, and I feel like a bloody pulp. Only now do I see what I should have seen from the beginning. It was only for a short time, but so incredibly intense that it burns as much as any long-term breakup I've had.
From the beginning: we worked together, and initially did not like each other. In his words, 'women are emotional and therefore dumb'. His goal was to find a woman who was 'above emotion'. Being the compartmentalized person I am, I figured 'no problem, I can do this'. Besides, he was handsome (though he would mention that when he was younger people would make fun of his ears which stuck out or his nose which was big), had longish beautiful hair (to cover his ears presumably though he would talk about how his ears were superior because he had a greater capacity for hearing) very much in shape, masculine (lots of body hair which he said he would get made fun of for but which he saw as a sign of being 'more of a man' than they were) intelligent (deeply so), young, tall - not to mention the physical type I find irresistible.
So, we clicked. For about a year and a half we would talk about stuff and find that we had a lot in common. I see now that a lot of what I was doing was mirroring him in order to draw him in, though I'd say that 90% or more was the 'real deal'. He admired my ability to be 'above' things, though he never made a move. Just kept me close, and then closer and then one night we hooked up and hard.
From there on, it was like a horse out of the gate - he had not had sex in a long time and I am a highly sexual person so we basically fucked each other raw. It was fun at first, until I realized that it was always the same: I would go down on him and he would come. Then recovery as I would literally worship his body, touching him all over teasing him back into readiness, and then he would fuck me from behind. He always said that there was no purpose to the missionary position and that the idea of looking into someone's eyes during sex was 'disturbing'. He was terrible at it, as well. Could not maintain any sort of erection if I was looking at him. So, we had sex basically the same way the entire time - without me looking at him. It was good, don't get me wrong - but it had one purpose. To get him off. He loved it when I got off though. He would count orgasms, and revel in his ability to give them - but only as a byproduct of his own.
I tried to get him to kiss me, and he would say 'kissing is just an obstacle to getting to the matter at hand'. I would try to get him to do any sort of foreplay, and he would get impatient and say 'can't we just fuck?' and tried to make it as unpleasant as possible. Enough that I didn't make that mistake again. He would begrudgingly let me kiss him occasionally (but usually would physically avoid it), and he never kissed me. The sex was amazing though, and he wanted it nearly every day (except when he didn't and then he would usually not see me at all) and maybe that is why I didn't see it at the time.
Over time, he actually began spending real time with me doing things together (now that I look back, he only did one thing with me that he thought I would like, the rest of the time it was stuff he liked). We had fun, so maybe that is why I didn't see it at the time.
He began opening up about his family - his divorced parents, an alcoholic mother and a narcissistic father(!), his past, the recent death of brother with whom he was close (he had died suddenly 8 months before). He never expressed grief though. Just a detached acceptance that 'shit happens'. He did say once before we hooked up that 'he stopped giving a shit about anything after his brother died' but I know for a fact now that he was pretty much the way he is now long before his brother died. He was telling me personal stuff though, stuff he did not tell anyone else and was keeping me closer than anyone else so maybe that is why I didn't see it at the time.
It seemed like we were headed for a relationship, and I imagined that I was seeing cracks in a facade and right at the peak time, where we were together every day, talking every day, having sex nearly every day, and talking about how cool this was, and how nice it was to have such an understanding - that he basically pulled up stakes and moved 12+ hours away.
We emailed back and forth for a week or two (where he mentioned a few days after his move that he hoped to get lots of 'tang since he had such a large pool of 'megababe' coworkers in the new location) and then... nothing. He refuses to call (though he did return a call once - which I missed - when I left him a message that I had to go to the hospital for a nearly fatal blood clot in my leg and a vena cava stenosis). He didn't call again though, and would only email me when I was in the hospital when I emailed him first. He sounded concerned, so I guess I didn't see it at the time.
I look back now, and I see that it was me complimenting him. Me worshiping his body, his mind. Me letting him have complete control in the bedroom. Me building him up. Me taking the initiative. Me suggesting time together. All he ever did was take what was offered without offering anything himself. His only compliments were (during sex) you have a great ass, and 'you are not a dumb bitch like 99.9% of other women out there'. He would also tell me that he would brag about our sex life and my prowess to his friends, and get me to send wildly sexual texts to show them - but I thought it was because he was proud of me. It was only to show them how proud he was of himself. I didn't get that at the time.
What on earth blinded me to such a blatant display? Why am I only seeing clearly now? Was it something as simple as being blinded by my own attraction, false hope and wishful thinking? He never lied or led me on about his intentions. He would tell me point blank how he did and did not feel, and I would tell him that I loved him and accepted him for all of his "being a dick" ways. And I did. And my reward was to be dumped off like a load of garbage when he moved knowing full well what he was leaving behind.
I would love to say that I'm a young and naive girl, but I'm nearly forty! I should know better. I'm ashamed that I even got into this mess, and more so that I can't seem to crawl my way out as compartmentalized as I am. I've started by simply not initiating any contact. I know that if I don't contact him, he won't contact me. I am 'out of sight', 'out of mind' though he has said that he would come back to visit (to have sex, of course and not for any other reason).
Why, why, why - a million times why did I allow myself to be blinded like this? I go back and read this and think that if someone had posted this asking my advice, I would have told them to tell the guy to 'fuck off, like yesterday'. I can see it so clearly with others.
Why couldn't I see it clearly with myself?