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Cheaters Never Win….but I Got Away

From the times when we begin various competitions, we hear "cheaters never win" with constant repetition. Usually regarding games of sport, jacks, bingo or playing "fort". As we grow older things change, the world is not simple and cheating, well hidden, becomes even bolder.

Married for sixteen years, the sharing, caring, successes and fears.
Two beautiful girls appeared to us . Beings more precious and ripe with need, to do them harm was agains the moral creed.

A pair so sweet, sometimes ethereal, a drip of milk on the chin over their cereal. Every movement and fall, full of innocence and grace. Only wearing their most honest face, day by day, complete range of honest emotions on display. The questions they asked, the hugs that they gave, hearing scary stories while being so brave. Two gems in a bracelet I shared with my wife, I had no divination she would verbally abuse us later in life. Her view of the bracelet was not for sharing but belonging to her, "qualified" for caring.

Important learning that children seem able, who best to sit at the game table. No liar, nor one prone to tantrums or fakers. This is something more difficult to discern in later in life complex facades to confuse the player. The end of of our marriage comes now in this rhyme, I left my wife while still in my prime. I cheated but not the kind we most often think. She had refused to grow, jealous of "my success" for which she contributed her share but could not understand that the goals were mutually achieved. For emotional abandonment and abuse of the two insipients so lovely, easy targets for verbal sniping to shatter self confidence, on the verge of emerging. Six years I paced and studied to find the right solution for this collision of egos. Sure I countributed but could not descerne how.

In the meantime, I´ve learned in the análisis of "emotional blackmail," there is room for only one´s feelings, the "perp" to flail Why couldn´t I have been wiser or considered her actions for what they were, feelings from another time without sense or rhyme. Only two can faciliate emotional blackmail. I was complicit without undestanding how frail. I needed approval, feared her anger, tried to make peace and doubted my abilities. This I take full responsibility but it is separate this from cupability. When the destroyer threatens suicide, or "I should leave" or yells in anger ….. her mouth open wide. Burying a verbal hatchet in the head of your offspring is something; I could not believe that she could ever bring. But I watched it over and over, hypnotized like a sideshow client

The blackmailer pumps out a fog like a cloud. This fog fluorishes just below our awareness. It is not an excuse but a well documented phenomena. Confusing those around clouding clarity for what the actor is doing, our judgement becomes hazy and we cannot see the plot brewing. Unable to hide or burn off the fog, the family starts to move like a cog. After multiple blasts from the emotional mortar, we act without thinking to quickly keep the time without breaking a tooth or wearing parts down . WE are simpley reduced into submission broken of wills.

Whatever happened to my wonderful bride. I have a clue as her sister was addicted and abusive, thrown in jail while drunk and verbally effusive. It seems that there is something close to organic in her family like a gene programming one to panic. I heard stories of her mother abusing her chicks, and saw the same behavior when my oldest turned six.

After years of trying and crying, hiding the secret of malevelence behind our closed doors. Unable to have guest for much, much more than dirty floors. A house without order, physical or emotional, here was our shelter in the midle of Europe Without being conscious I pulled my trailer off her hitch, without even internally calling her a bitch. I found a good friend who would listen to my fears, give me warm hugs and dry my tears. She was the one who deserved to be at the game table. For all the great qualities she had learned to be able. Starting as colleagues and changing to friends, becoming lovers, the kind that never end. Who knows in this tale what happens next for I fight for her and the hearts and minds of my children with the success of Quixote. Yes, I "cheated" after giving it my best, hard to feel guilty in front of the rest. My "ex" continues to burn like a phosphorus fire never give up distorting, distracting, calling me a cheat and liar. She will not recognize her failure at the card gaming table for she simple has not the awareness to be able. The game is for her and her alone, parts of her have turned to stone. Two doves at her side beg for a stroke of affection given to them when they speak ill of the father.

In the balance, I find a love with a touch of bitter. A true friend, a lover and never a quitter. She waited for me to upset that game board and scatter the pieces she is loyal and loving, exceptionally nice, more important she sits ready at the board to take her turn throwing the dice.


I ask you to think not in black or white. Try magenta, or torqoise something mixed and bright. Who really "cheated" in this game of life…..maybe both in a separate way. She reamins bitter ….but I got away….with enormous emotional bills to pay.



Ted