Hands down, I was a very easy ‘mark’ for Mr. Cheater Pants—especially due to the fact that I wasn’t his first rodeo. Imagine that …a person who ghosts a long-term marriage having a shady side? Well, butter my biscuit!
In all seriousness, a major red flag that I overlooked when I was in the throes of all my crying was that he’d practiced his schtick a few times—no doubt honing his craft of love-bombing on a few other girlfriends/fiancee’s prior to me.
Interesting [but not so mysterious now] was how both of these women were from families of a higher socioeconomic class. For example, one fiancee’s father was a local doctor. The other fiancee was the very one that he ghosted me for and ran away with.
I affectionately refer to this woman in my writing as ‘Satan’s Mistress’. She now has the illustrious title of Mrs. Cheater Pants. Oh wait—she refused to take his last name. Hmmm.
She is the daughter of Mr. & Mrs. Got-Rocks [I nicknamed them that because my husband always made reference to the fact that they had money]. They passed away a few years ago—leaving everything to this only daughter—thereby adding to the attractiveness to my husband, in my opinion.
In light of his illustrious past, and his shenanigans when he so callously ghosted me, I’m left scratching my head wondering why he was ever interested in me in the first place. No doubt, he was fresh out of better options. Other than a six-figure job that I worked 30-80 hours a week to maintain in the last decade of our marriage, I had no prestige to speak of. Perhaps he’d been having a series of ‘off’ years. Perhaps like a baseball player, he was trying to break out of a ‘slump’. LOL.
To target me back in the 80’s, he must’ve felt that he was looking at the bottom of the barrel. I had no money, no pending inheritance, and my relatives were not doctors. Hmmm … Shrug … Who knows?
But then—when you look back at it—he wasn’t exactly batting a thousand at that point, either. He’d just gotten kicked out the military and was living in a rooming house on the not-so-nice side of a dying city. To make things worse, Mr. Cheater Pants was having to work for minimum wage. Poor pumpkin.
In any event, he swooped in—and like a dolt—I bought his schtick. Overtaken by fined-tuned and extravagant love-bombing and all his romantic-comedy moves, I was swept off my feet—-convinced that I’d found my soul mate.
But then, a true soul mate will never seek to take yours. Oh well, we live and learn.
Below is a video I did regarding this.