As I wrote about in the previous posts, I found this guy, who totally swept my feet off the ground. First with this incredible lovemaking on a first date, later with a stream of affection, which I know now is called love-bombing. And I fell for it all.

I went from enjoying my single life to falling in love fast and ending in a relationship with a person who needed a lot of compassion and understanding. Thriving on it. Living on it. And I went into this disaster, because … Hmm … yes, why did I do that?

Because somebody finally loved me? I wasn’t searching for that even if I had begun to see that I was heading that way. I am an independent woman, who enjoys living on my own (and with my daughter of course). But still … I had begun to miss the love, and he provided it. There was also great sex and great company … or …

Oh, how to write this without sounding pretentious and arrogant … he was sweet, but he was not overwhelming intelligent. Or like we say here in Denmark, he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I does not make sense, I know.  😉

He had his mistakes, and I wasn’t blind (even as it sounds like it). There were things about him, that were annoying me, but I accepted them. I also knew that he shouldn’t enter my life completely. He met my daughter once or twice when she was coming/going from her fathers, and they overlapped. So, they were never really in contact. Which he ironically later used in an argument, saying I wasn’t that committed because I didn’t let them meet each other more. Now I’m glad they never spent time together.

Then something happened. This was in July 2021. Long story short, the Bodyguard got hurt on an assignment where he and a partner had to protect a witness from a drug-gang. The Bodyguard was injured on his left upper arm, where he receives a blow, he then had the person lying on the floor in some grip until the police came, and during this the blood circulation suffered or something like that. Anyway, his arm gets worse and worse and swelled enormously because of infection. At that point I don’t understand how this can happen from the stories that he tells me, where did the infection come from, when there was no open wound? But I excuse his behavior with medication and fear. His muscles have been damaged, and his entire personality was connected to his physical training. At some point the doctors even were unsure if he would get total muscle-damage and be paralyzed in his right arm. If so, he would never be able to lift weights again, which of course broke his heart.

His weightlifting training was very important to him. Many of the things he had overcome, was due to this training, and if he couldn’t do this anymore, he would be completely devastated.

I don’t know what happened that night, but I do know for certainty that his arm was injured. I have seen many pictures of the process as it got worse, and also later as it healed. I have seen the scar many times, and it corresponds to the stories he told at that point. So, the arm story is actually the only thing I know for a fact is true. Or at least that he was injured. I saw that with my own eyes. Maybe he did not get injured on the job, maybe it was self-inflicted, but the injury was real.

He was admitted to a hospital very far away from me, almost a 4 hours’ drive, so I couldn’t just visit him, also because during the summer holiday, my daughter normally stays with me. It is extremely hard to have a boyfriend, who you cannot be there for, when needed. I wanted to be there for him because I could hear that he was afraid and sad, but I couldn’t visit him. For me … a relationship is to be there for a person 100%, and I wasn’t able to. That was difficult.

Just before the accident and before his friend and partner died, he had found himself a place to live. The same city as the partner, which was 120 km away from me. But again … there was constantly something preventing him from moving in.

And when he then got the injury, his one nephew came out of rehab and needed a place to live, so he got the apartment instead of the Bodyguard, and when he finally was released from the hospital, he lived with another nephew, until he could find another place to stay.

I can hear your thoughts screaming at me. ;-)

I KNEW that there was something going on. I KNEW that he was lying to me, but I ignored it. Or … actually I did not really ignore it any longer. Sometimes I tried to find him online, but he was nowhere to be found. Nowhere! I have never seen anybody be so invisible on the internet before. And the few things I could find, suited partly. There was always that little snippet of truth, so that the results I found COULD be true. They COULD back up his story.

Third red flag (or more, I stopped counting) … if you need to investigate your boyfriend, something isn’t right.

When I joked about it (never telling HOW much I had been searching for information), he just said it was on purpose, because of his job. The company did not allow for example a Facebook account, because there was risk for family etc. to get hurt. So, he was intentionally invisible online. Again … makes kind of sense. Denmark is a small country. People are easy to find.

But still … I was deluding myself. Saying to myself that I didn’t care about his messy life, because when he was here, we were having such a great time. The sex was great, he was sweet and funny and attentive. We did also go on some trips, taking some cruises to Norway, because this trip meant something for him. A childhood memory of his deceased father. (That at least IS true, I saw the man’s grave at some point, and at least the last name (a very special name) corresponds with the name of the Bodyguard).
And he never ever cancelled a date with me. The Bodyguard. Not the father. That would have been strange. 😉. In that regard he was reliable. When he said he could come, he came.

But I was still a fool, and this is one of things that I am most ashamed of. I let it go too far. I knew he wasn’t telling the truth, but whatever the truth was, it didn’t hurt me – I convinced myself, and it let it move on.

Now I can see … it DID matter. A relationship should (of course) not be built on a foundation of lies, but at that point … So yes, I am ashamed that I let him put me through this. And I am ashamed that my daughter had to see me doing such an incredible stupid thing.

But there was something about him. Something very vulnerable, which spoke to my heart. Was it my mother-genes? The too soft side of me? He was a troubled soul in many ways, that I could feel. Especially the childhood stories were miserable. I mean … really miserable. I will not come into details here, but the stories contained child abuse, mental illness, discrimination, bullying, foster homes, orphanages and violence.

But somehow, those stories are the ones that I actually believe in, and I will tell you why it in the next blog post, because I am already running out of space here.

There were other stories, job-stories, how he left a security company to start his own with his now dead friend and partner, how he was overwhelmed with work after the friend died, and how he finally sold the company for a great sum of money. And I mean a GREAT sum of money.

Which again was funny because most of the time he was kind of cheap. We could go into a restaurant, and he assumed that I would pay every single time, and I virtually had to ASK him to pay after I had paid 2-3 times in a row. That doesn’t sit very well with me. A relationship – and that applies to all kinds – must be equal in both favors, money, and attention. It must balance out. Not that I keep logbooks, but you can just feel if you bear the most weight. And he surely didn’t in that aspect.

But during the fall it became more intense. The stories increased in drama, the next one was always worse, and there was ALWAYS something going on.

But with everything else … things need to escalate, and they finally did.

Thumbnail picture from Nicetofilmyou from Pixabay