In this case, I relate to Madame de Tourvel (Michelle Pfeiffer)
The strategy of Love and War has not changed since the 1700's as per Les Liaisons Dangereuses. Today, it's called mind-fucking and mostly played online.
This became evident to me only the other day. I can't tell whether my mind was always analytical which resulted in performing oodles of analysis on Wall Street or whether I became analytical as part of the oodles of analysis performed on Wall Street. I'm the type of person who chronically reviews things, or as the ex said, "Your problem is that your mind just doesn't let things go, it never stops."
"That's why I was such a successful analyst," I retorted, "I saw patterns and put things together that no one else ever thought of. I saved banks hundreds of millions of dollars." That was way back when the people running the banks and their employees cared about long term results.
At any rate, I've a tendency towards overanalyzing and over-examining things, according to my ex-boyfriend.
Notice the ex part? It may be debatable. We never did have a formal separation where we told each other it's over or even Fuck it. Rather, I texted him several times, "Fuck you," yet he texted he'd phone me in a few days.
It was only upon reading his timeline in twitter - let me take a brief departure and inform you dear Reader he encouraged me to read his timeline as part of his brilliant master plan - when I found out we broke up.
Perhaps he read my timeline earlier that day where I wrote that I changed my relationship status to single on FB and retaliated. About time since he blocked me on FB as well as twitter three weeks' prior. At any rate, I texted him that moment, "Thanks for letting me know on twitter we broke up."
He never responded, so I guess it means we're over. I waited till after the day he said he'd call which he didn't and then I posted the blog piece (Click HERE), figuring we're over. Emotionally, I'm over him - there's so much punishment one can take from clever calculated coldness and indifference meted out in megadoses. Since he didn't extend an olive branch and now I understand how he's wired, it's WAR.
Admittedly, I'm not a swift study; I mull over things. It took me nearly a month to recognize he had a plan in place. And that plan didn't include me in his life. Fuck no, that plan was to annihilate me. Not only was he into mind-fucking (to the extent which I only recently discovered), he was a plotter and a planner. Well, one does include the other.
Six months' earlier, I asked him, "Why don't you confront Bill?" A man who did him wrong. "I don't understand why that's so hard for you to do!"
"I'm a plotter and a planner," he stated several times. "While it takes a long time for things to occur, once they do, they're done and over with with dire consequences. Trust me, I'm quite good at this." He went into detail the meticulous way he destroyed a few peoples' lives.
He told me outright and I didn't listen. For I was swayed by the kind, gentle facade, the endless 'patience' and the laid-back attitude. He was a walking Venus fly-trap and I was the fly.
The last time we were physically together was during a week vacation where he confessed to being a former porn BDSM VCR star. Then he returned to the other side of the country where he resides. He was done with me, but didn't want to let me know.
This was game time.
Two weeks' later, he pulled the infamous Valentine's Day stunt which I blogged about ad infinitum. For I couldn't wrap my mind around it. How better to mind fuck someone than to purposely withdraw love and attention and then condemn your partner for over-reacting while you're doing this?
This kind, gentle man, so wishy-washy, so laid-back continually floored me. He had a master plan and I was his challenge.
Find the Achilles heel and then press down hard.
My Achilles' heel is romantic love and affection. What better way to dominate me than to withhold any demonstrations of what I want? And, in turn to openly, blatantly effusively give that to others? In my case, the ex used twitter to flirt, engage in overt romantic tones to strangers, something he NEVER did with me. Then he rubbed my nose in it.
He did one step further which was brilliant! Way before we met, he pursued a person and that person didn't want the egift so forwarded it to me. When we met, I told him that I received the gift including the card.
This is what he emailed to the other person:
My dear, lovely Goddess, I hope you'll find something that soothes and heals you after your difficult weekend.
Yours forever and always,
Happy Valentine's Day. Hope you find something you like.
First off, the egift card he sent to me for Valentine's Day was rescinded the very next day so I got nothing. Then, when I complained to him about what he wrote to me in comparison to what he wrote to this Goddess fantasy creature, he laughed.
"I was waiting for you to get around to this."
"I was waiting for you to get around to this."
He did a giant loving gesture by putting on FB that he was in a relationship with me. I LOVED that. He enjoyed it as well: he got bragging rights to friends, family and his ex-wife's family that finally he was in a normal relationship to a beautiful woman who's a credentialed author!! Bells and whistles, everyone!
Then, he unfriended me on FB.
Undermine your victim so that your punitive actions are the result of the victim's bad behavior, thereby giving a double whammy.
Valentine's Day is the BEST day of the year, outside of birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year's Eve to undermine a person.
He had already set me up: he went over the top flirting with e-women and catfish on twitter, he even mocked me with them, he didn't send me a gift for Valentine's Day and when he did, the message was cold and to top it off, the egift was rescinded. In the wake of my reactions when I pointed out he was a miserable, sadistic motherfucker, he blocked me on twitter and FB, stating I was the cause.
That was the WTF moment.
Also, beautifully calculated. It was the first step towards removing me from his life.
Incrementally introduce exit strategy in such a way the victim has no idea until the dust settles that you can never be found.
He removed me from contacting him through twitter while encouraging me to read his tweets on his TL. Which was another sadistic move because he took potshots at me.
"Will you stop subtweeting me!" I said.
"Oh, stop it." He insisted, "I never subtweeted you. It's your over-active imagination."
Then, he knocked me off FB. We stopped using google chat and email in lieu of Facetime. And then, he miscalculated.
The master of mindfuck MISCALCULATED! OH BOY!
The setup was his office cellphone. He complained numerous times that his office colleagues kept phoning and texting him resulting in the overuse of text messages where he had to pay $35 for overages. This is important to point out. For he discovered early on the only way I was assertive with him was through the written word.
So, by eliminating twitter, FB, google chat, he effectively stripped me of my claws. I found it nearly impossible to assert myself while looking at his face in Facetime. That was one clever way of muzzling me.
Except, I texted him how I felt. THAT drove him crazy, but he bit the bullet. He did warn me he was getting a new office cellphone number which he would not give out except to a handful of people. Which didn't make sense to me, for isn't that the purpose of the office cellphone?
It backfired as he got the new cellphone number earlier than anticipated. And he phoned me.
I saw this number with the Los Angeles area code and responded, "Hey sweetie."
"How did you know it was me? Isn't the number showing as blocked?"
"Not at all," I said. He groaned. "Wait, you don't want me to have the number?"
He quickly backpedaled. "Of course. But listen, NO TEXTS! I got in trouble with the last phone number. Only text me to let me know should you need to talk to me."
Now, I rarely phoned him all these months as he always Facetimed me on a daily basis, sometimes three times a day. I noticed the immediate retrenchment since Valentine's Day, down to once a day and he usually yawned.
Then, while he Facetimed me, he was busy texting his ex-wife and his best friend. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut. I knew the score. He wanted out and fucked up the timing with the phone.
But that wasn't all folks:
Wait, there's much much more...
This was the PIECE de RESISTANCE!
Several months ago, he wanted to book a flight for me to visit with him in Los Angeles. He lived in a roommate situation for over a year and my visit wouldn't pose a problem. This was prior to when he visited my home since we met in NYC. I declined because I didn't feel comfortable about it, so he came here.
He informed me, "I gave notice to my roommate that I have to move. I'm looking at some wonderful one bedrooms."
He then intimated in several conversations that, should this relationship go forward, I'd be the one who has to move to LA to be with him. I ASSUMED (yes, an Ass out of Me) that the one bedroom was for the two of us.
Two weeks ago, I phoned him in tears. "I've got severe cabin fever. Please fly me out to stay with you."
"No can do."
"My room is really disgusting." Using the iPhone and Facetime, he showed me his bedroom. He wasn't exaggerating. Which really made me wonder why he wanted to fly me in to experience that months ago!
"What's going on with the apartment search?"
"I think I narrowed it down to three."
In two other phone calls, I asked him, "Can't I fly out?"
He didn't say a word.
Well, guess what - the motherfucker got a one bedroom right after those conversations and didn't tell me he moved. I found that out on TWITTER!
I've a pet peeve and that involves being toyed with. The moment I detect something amiss, I react. However, I recognize now, I don't react well when manipulated by a deviant. Then again, he blew things up to such a level, that ANY reaction from me would constitute egregious and punitive retaliatory measures.
The last time I blew up, as documented in the prior blog post, was in 5 text messages.
FIVE TEXT MESSAGES.
It was equivalent to one paragraph. I must be an effective writer for that one paragraph merited a break-up. Well, not a break-up, but a total fade out.
An already planned exit strategy.
Or perhaps, since his return, he wanted me to be the one who walked away. A typical passive-aggressive move. He devised ways to hurt me so bad I'd have no alternative, yet, I stuck in there like an optimistic fool thinking he was just a jerk.
Or perhaps I'm so innovative and creative I bestowed upon this pitiful excuse of a man incredible talent, intellect and cunning. I've a penchant towards giving men more credit than they deserve. I'm also known for imbuing my novels and short stories with amazing twists and turns.
More than likely, the poor sap's sitting alone in his barren new one bedroom apartment in front of his laptop with his bird next to him, tweeting, masturbating in front of online catfish and wondering, "WTF is WRONG with her?" And sighs with relief I'm out of the picture. He prefers to be alone, sitting in front of a laptop tweeting, masturbating in front of online catfish.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Keyser Soze read the blog post and flicked off the computer. He smiled. Case over. He got up and stretched. He flung off the prescription glasses he wore under the guise of a mild-mannered and totally fucked up deviant and went to the bathroom where he gelled back the remaining skeins of his hair. Afterwards, he admired his reflection where his three-day-old beard outlined his chiseled features.
He returned to his bedroom, put on a tight round-necked sweater and shrugged into his form-fitting Armani suit with matching designer shoes. Over his shoulder, he casually said to the naked woman lying on the bed, "Just lock up before you go."
Exit. Curtain comes down.
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