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Period, Greg, Psychopathy


I woke up in the middle of the night cramping. My periods started, I felt slack and reluctant to get up and go to the bathroom for a pad. But my sleepiness vanished as soon as I reached out for my phone to check the time. It was a text from Greg: “Hi gorgeous, miss you”. He messaged me at midnight. How does this universe work? Why does he appear in my life every time I forget about him, let go of my illusions, and make firm decisions to learn to live without his presence? Maybe he senses me remotely, and as soon as I am ready to cut the connection, he emerges to strengthen the tie and pulls back on the leash.
I got up, showered, placed a female pad in my undies, slid back under the plush blanket, and texted back: “I thought you forgot about me”. It was 3 am, way too late or early to pretend that I do not care. The phone started ringing. Unbelievable, he was up and wanted to talk. I responded immediately. Panicking about heavy bleeding due to the recently diagnosed fibroid swept off the remnants of my pride. I needed him primarily to assure that I would be fine; I needed his presence, his touch, and his MDable opinion.
          I think of you all the time, can I come over? – his voice was calming
          Yes, you can, – my heart was literary pounding
          Give me forty minutes
          Are you by yourself?
          No, Emy is here and sleeping
His arrival was magical, sex was awesome as usually.
          Quit your vegan bullshit. You need to eat, babe, your body needs nutrition in order to function properly.  It would regulate your periods. You are underweight. Plus, during your period the fibroid gets irritated a bit. 
      I closed my eyes, I followed his voice, it was therapeutically comforting; most of what he said passed over my ears. He left his wife to be with me, and I did not care much about it. Not that I am callous, but love is a selfish affair; and I need him badly, beyond everything.
Am I psychopathic? Well, I do not worry about hurting other’s feelings and expediting the collapse of their cracked families. I actually am a psychopath. BINGO. The recognition of it made me open my eyes and smile to Greg’s lecture on heavy bleeding.
If I only care about myself, how can I be upset with his exceptionally genius psychopathy? He is self-focused, I am self-focused. He calls me at midnight if he wants me; I allow him into my life only when I need him. He does not care much about my feelings, I could not have cared less about his marriage. It was my relief, my insight, my eye-opener; since I do not have to feel heart-broken, ruthlessly used, and in pain every time he exploits me and leaves. I am like that as well, I also do not care about anyone but my own interests.
That night I felt free, I got it, and it was surprisingly easy for me to let go of my resentment, forgive, forget, and simply enjoy intimacy with the most wonderful person in this world.

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