I realize that I should have listened to my friends when they shared their concerns about a man I decided I loved. ‘He’s just using you,’ they said or, ‘So you don’t think there’s anything weird about someone going for coffee and not coming back for 3 weeks?’…that kind of thing. I just shook my head and told them that I knew in my heart that this one was a keeper–he just had some rough edges.
Sure, he came up with some interesting stories about the ‘top secret’ nature of his work and all of the reasons he ‘had to’ spend so much time away from me (so many important projects and family crises). He had a boatload of intricately crafted reasons for why I never saw his home or actually met any of his family or friends…but I was convinced that he had good intentions. It just felt so right in so many ways, I told my friends (and myself), and I had invested so much time and energy in him that I needed to give it every opportunity to work out.
What I should have paid more attention to was the way my cats acted when Mr. BS came into the house. Every time he showed up they got slinky and scarce in that OH MAN SOMETHING’S UP kind of way that critters have. They looked at me like either an earthquake was starting or a random Great Dane had just come through the back door, and they never got used to him or trusted him at all.
In retrospect, Pickle might as well of had his paw on top of the dictionary, flipping through the ‘S’ pages…
I now know the truth about Mr. BS and the double (triple, quadruple?) life he was living. I guess I really knew all along that things weren’t what they seemed, but some part of me needed to believe in it. That’s really the hardest part of all, trying to figure out why it meant so much to me…why I would let someone treat me that way?
Pickle just looks at me with those big old eyes full of kitty cat love and snuggles into my side. I know that if he could, he would tell me to just get over it…oh, and to get him a kitty treat. That Pickle is pretty smart.