[Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.]

It can be hard to admit that someone we thought we knew well had concealed their true nature and fooled us. Though I understand that being deceitful is something in which most abusers are highly skilled and I shouldn’t take it personally, I tend to blame myself for acting counter to my instincts and letting Glenn in, so to speak. He was somebody I trusted, whose character I considered above reproach. I’d barbcued with this man. I’d cooked for him and his family. I’d been vulnerable in his presence. As I said in an earlier post, his balls touched mine on occasion. This isn’t a privilege I would grant just anybody; at the time I had determined that he wasn’t a threat, and I had been wrong. At this point it’s impossible for me to not view Glenn as a narcissist or even a sociopath.

Maybe he’s still relatively progressive in his values. Maybe he’s still got the socialist leanings he had when we were friends. Maybe he’s not a racist or a homophobe. And with a non-binary child I’m certain he doesn’t oppose trans rights. But regardless of how he might treat other women including his current partner, the way he treated his wife means he’s a misogynist. That he is capable of inflicting the harm that he has inflicted negates all else. My focus on the good things I experienced through his friendship, and his expert ability to hide the person that he really was undoubtedly clouded my vision and that’s at least partially on me.

Maybe my physical desire for Alexandra, and my genuine want of a relationship with her, put Jill in a bad position with Glenn. Maybe I risked my wife’s emotions. Maybe I even risked physical harm befalling her. (Though in the beginning, when things between Jill and Glenn were good, she didn’t have any complaints and in fact encouraged our initial meeting and the extramarital relationship I subsequently formed.) Was I truly blind to his faults? I don’t know, but I do know that I tend to see the good in people before I see the bad. For someone as introverted and antisocial as I am capable of being, maybe that says something good about me.

Between his liberal politics, geeky tendencies, and sexy wife, I had ample reason to not see who Glenn really was. To the extent that he was displaying red flags, perhaps on a subconscious level I made the choice not to see. While I have no tangible evidence that he’s a sociopath nor the qualifications to make a diagnosis, his behavior – according to Alexandra’s account – does line up with some of the common traits of one. Another reason why I couldn’t see who he really was is that he was very good at being deceitful. Sociopaths lie.

So where does that leave me? Honestly I’m not sure. Though the revelations about my former friend and metamour were nothing short of cataclysmic, I don’t think much if anything has changed with regard to how I perceive men as potential friends. Since at this point in my life I don’t easily connect with men, the shock of finding out what kind of a person Glenn really was probably didn’t make it worse. However, I’m relatively certain that it didn’t help, either.

That being said, this past weekend while at a friend’s birthday party Jill and I struck up a conversation with another couple. The guy – the boyfriend? Husband? I have no idea – was especially loquacious and outgoing, and over the course of the afternoon it occurred to me that he reminded me a bit of Glenn in his extroversion, personality, and mannerisms. Though he was at least a head shorter, the party guest even bore a passing resemblance to him in his build and facial features. We had sociopolitical views in common, too.

Overall, I enjoyed the conversation, as well as the possibility of running into this guy and his – wife? Girlfriend? I have no idea – at a future party. And even though part of my brain kept reminding me that Glenn impressed me similarly when we first met only to disappoint years later, I had to remind myself that this guy probably isn’t a predatory, abusive monster. I hope I’m right.