catfish

Anatomy of a Liar Pt. 2

Part One

Bryon and his family’s’ social media accounts showed a very affluent family. He lived the places he said he did. There were pictures of his wife and him together, with and without their adult children, but nothing since year-end 2016.

The conclusion I drew was he perhaps was single, perhaps, but there is no way he’d been split for six years unless they had an unconventional relationship. And if that was the case, if he was actually seeking a new relationship he would be smart enough to say “yes my ex and I are very close, we still do things together blah blah.”

It occurred to me much later that he was so arrogant he didn’t think he needed to do so. He didn’t think anyone would check out his family’s profiles or didn’t care what it showed if they did. Perhaps most women didn’t see the red flags or were blinded by his luxury lifestyle and fancy parties. Continue reading

catfish

Anatomy of a liar.

This one really made me angry. Bryon wasn’t a catfish in the traditional sense, but he was fishing for something, with no intent to catch this fish.

I knew he was lying about something, right from the beginning – I will tell you why shortly. But being focussed on that lie prevented me from noticing the other signs of a catfish right away.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing for me is to meet someone who was what I seek. You know, if not for the whole douchebag thing. He was intelligent, accomplished, and interesting. But he was an intellectual bully.

He was also likely married. Or at the very least, nowhere near as single as he professed. Continue reading

catfish

Ann was fooled by a catfish.

Yes. I’m embarrassed to say, but I was catfished. It was only for a 24-hour period, but still. I don’t like making those kinds of mistakes. Well, I don’t like making any mistakes at all, but I’m getting far more comfortable with the large number of romantic mistakes I’ve made and will keep making.

The short duration of our exchange hid some of the red flags. And he was very clever.

Like the last one, his pictures were real. They seemed current. He was in his mid-fifties. He had filled out many questions on OK Cupid and had a full descriptive profile. We had a 95% match percentage.

In other words, nothing seemed off. Continue reading

Where my brain went when Bruce disappeared

Bruce evaporated Friday night. His radio silence was highly unusual. I’ve tried to recreate the mental paths I went down during this time, so my actions are contextualized. My Mom and my friends generally concurred with my analysis and helped me figure out what to do. One friend was convinced he’d ghosted or was lying about being single, but she was the exception. I promised myself if either of those were true, I would take a real break from dating. I was 90% sure he’d lost his phone, but that remaining 10% thought something serious had happened. 

7am Saturday

Hmm that’s weird he hasn’t texted me yet. He said he was going to sleep early, so not replying last night is feasible. But he always sends good morning texts.

Let me check Whatsapp.

Oh, he hasn’t been online there since last night 6:20pm. Guess he did crash early. Continue reading

He’s a lying sack of shit.

Jack and I spoke last week midweek. I’m not sure I will ever speak to him again.

He’d asked for a copy of the dating story about us I’d written for a local paper. We’d had a brief text exchange in which he said “you can text me anytime”, to which I replied given he was so bad at responding with any speed it didn’t make me want to text him. He said he was in therapy and was learning that not replying was a form of control for him.

I called him because I didn’t want my reply to be spread out over the course of several days. I said my issue was that a lack of response was inconsiderate and disrespectful. He sounded like crap. I asked if the therapy was helping and he said he’d had only two sessions so far. He said he’d talked to his ex-girlfriend which helped him process things, but she had little time for it because she had already worked through it. Shocker. Continue reading

Tony got BUSTED

I haven’t been writing much about Tony these last many weeks, mostly because there isn’t much to say. I blocked him for a while to help myself break old patterns, then when I unblocked him he started calling.

I answered the phone when he called, and found our conversations frustrating – not because of anything he did wrong. I couldn’t find a happy medium where I could be his friend in a way meaningful to me. If he told me anything about the crap in his marriage, I would get (internally) frustrated because I thought he should be trying. Conversely, if he said something was going well, it hurt.

And bottom line is, despite all of his failings, he’s doing stuff with his again-wife and child that I wanted the opportunity to do. Continue reading

I can still get really angry – at Tony

I am writing this post fresh. Freshly angry. Apologies in advance for a lack of editing and shitty structure.

You’ll surely recall he (Tony) fucked me on Christmas eve, in the midst of family-oriented errands. He was fully ensconced in family time for Christmas and days afterwards. So naturally, he didn’t reach out. I am not part of that part of his life.

Which honestly down to my core was just fine – because it helped me put more nails in the coffin of what was left of our relationship.

It boils down to this: Continue reading

won't be part of his deception

I won’t be an actor in a play filled with lies

Previous Post

For the first time ever, Tony told me he loved me. Despite some of you thinking it was manipulative, it seemed to me to be said more from surprise and compassion. I’d suspected for a long time he did love me, but it was wonderful to finally hear it.

Even if it was too late, and wouldn’t change a thing.

I punched him in the chest and say “you ass, why didn’t you ever tell me that before?”

He just looked at me blankly and said “I dunno Ann. Because I’m a guy? But I do love you.”

Continue reading

i didn't hesitate to tell Tony all my grievances

The wrath of Ann

Previous Post

I have chronic shoulder and neck pain; have probably never mentioned it. It’s stress and posture related, and I was in agony that night. I opened a bottle of prosecco with a goal of getting a little drunk before he showed up. Feeling dramatic, I chose to make the cocktails we had on our first date. Prosecco, ginger liqueur, and orange curaçao. Gorgeous drink. It hurt emotionally to make it.

I wanted all the pain and anger to wash over me. I hadn’t ever really let it all out, I always let Tony’s intentions limit my responses to his actions. In other words, I’ve always told myself since he didn’t intend to hurt me, I could get over it. I have been ultra understanding and kind, this whole time.

But it would be the same thing as me saying HWSNBN’s behavior was okay because he loved me desperately. And I certainly didn’t allow it in that case. Continue reading

tony told me the truth and I hated it

Being angry via text

Previous Post

Note: all of the communication below is in text form, not in-person dialogue. I just didn’t bother putting the whole thing in Italics.

I wrote about hearing from Ian (now known in my circles as “Mr Ambiguity”) on Mother’s Day while I heard nothing from Tony. I did hear from him that afternoon, he wished me a Happy Mother’s Day and said he hoped I had fun with Liam.

At about 5pm that day, I texted him to confirm he was coming over around 9pm. I heard nothing. Two hours later, I simply texted “??”.  Nothing.

I was exhausted, and decided I wasn’t going to stay up waiting to hear from him. I was asleep before 9:30 at night.

Continue reading