I really miss David. He is the one friend, no, the best friend, no the dearest friend who would make me feel so confident 48 hours before I face Driftwood in court.
40 second recap: My ex-husband, Driftwood (narcissist), is required by law to buy me out of our former marital home. I offered a very reasonable settlement because I erroneously hoped it would help the case to be settled quickly. Driftwood’s counteroffer was… ZERO. There is no negotiating with a narcissist. A 61-day trial becomes 300+ days. Now, in theory, we are going before the judge and s/he will assign a dollar value for us since we cannot settle it ourselves. In Theory.
I really miss my David. (Yes, I know he was an even meaner narcissist than Driftwood.) I refer to the Idealization Phase David, the man I used to call “The Israel David”, the best possible version of him.
“The Israel David”, let’s call him “Daat”, he would have counselled me because he liked calm discussion. We used to talk for six, seven hours straight. Typically, our conversations would end because either I needed sleep or our cellphone batteries died mid-sentence. The Israel David was good to me.
My Daat would know just what to say to me to restore my faith in God, my emunah, that whatever was going to happen in court, it was for my best. I’m not talking some “Candide” bs here. I mean that Hashem (God) has my back and I do not need to worry or fear. Emunah (faith). David’s specialty.
I miss my one best dearest friend.
Disclaimer: From this point on, reality sets in.
The first sexual relationship David had after he left me was complicated. One reason was that both myself and the new target were both being wooed in the Idealization Phase simultaneously and did not know how deeply he was involved with the other woman. I thought he had rented a room in her house, not taken the missionary position in her bed. She did not know we were on the phone for never less than 3 hours a day (every day) because he said he got better cellphone reception in the park (which is probably true). I can imagine it must have been a tremendous drain on his fragile mind to have two women demanding emotional attention from him. He complained to me that she would prattle on for hours and hours about her problems and life drama. I told him that she was probably lonely and to “Hang in there, baby. She’ll run out of stories soon.” Gotta keep the landlady placated, right? It’s funny because he was slipping her the sausage and I never suspected him!
(I am told that I am trusting because I am trustworthy.) I should have figured it out because she would ring through while David was in the park talking to me on his cellphone, and he would have to get home. Oh, well.
I loved those phone conversations with David. He was under so much stress that he begged me to distract him from the real world. I understood and felt the sacred and humane desire to calm a feverish child. I tried asking him to imagine himself on a quiet beach, palm trees swaying in a soft, warm breeze, hula girls swaying in grass skirts. I like trying to get him to be silly with me. He was so serious all the time. But I had one surefire topic that would always calm him and also distract him from the oppressive burdens of the world… Torah. I would ask a Torah question and he was off! We would talk and talk and talk – like I said – until the batteries in our cellphones died.
And when David spoke Torah with me, he was a good listener. He never made fun of my lack of formal training. In fact, he would frequently complement me for figuring something out on my own without the assistance of any kind of leader or guide at all. (He had spent 12 years in religious school and had regular study partners for much of his adult life, as is proper.) When two Jews discuss Torah, Hashem helps us to understand His Will. Our spirits rise to the truth and we feel revitalized. It was the best medicine I could give to David and he was giving it right back to me.
I guess the “reality” of this second part of the story isn’t as negative as I thought it was. Yes, he was having sex behind my back; but I got the true intimacy: Torah conversations. She just got his penis.
Frequently, I end my posts with the sentence: “Narcissism ruins everything.” David did turn on me and decide that all those hours of Torah talks were an abomination, an affront to our Creator. He was wrong, you know. Those hours were a true miracle. I miss him.
“I Really Miss David.” is copyright © 2014 by 18mitzvot. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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