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Sometimes you don’t want to let go.  You, sort of need to hold on.  You start thinking that you might be able to help, especially when it’s your partner, your friend, the ‘love of your life’… but turns out he’s an SPV… and you find yourself looking down a cliff without knowing how you got there and how you’re going to get out of that one.  Like a nightmare!  In which you see the waves crashing against the rocks and you know the fall is going to be fatal!

This story is about an SPV I’ll call: diluted SPV.  The kind that will drown you or push you off that cliff without ever realizing it’ll be the end of you.   This diluted SPV has a ‘sweet old lady’ as a mom, dimmed by old age… meaning she's average in manners and behavior.  Nothing out of the ordinary - according to the version I had - but not so fast, dear!  First, I must tell you that I was about to say bye-bye… and he knew it…

I still don’t know how I got so careless… manipulation at its best I guess… I was being the victim of constant lying, deceit and ambiguity by this diluted SPV.  But, since he’d run out of drama let's just say he was seeking for new material, OK?   As a result, my presence was required, one winter afternoon, at his shrink’s office.  He said he needed to talk about his agony… but with an audience, of course, like any SPV would.

It turned out to be way too much information for my psyche in just an hour!  I’ll try to tell you- hoping to get it right without confusing you - the story I heard that afternoon and how the whole scenario he’d portrayed a while back about mommy being average… just turned into something I didn’t expect!  

In the past, there had been some attempts on his part to blame the old woman for his own deceitful ways… but this new scenario was like a freaking psychological Tsunami to me!

He began telling his ‘tragic’ tiresome story - the one that excuses him of his ‘phobias’… yeah see, now he says he’s phobic! - and, as minutes went by, I am the one who was entering a phobic state… I just wanted to get the hell away from there… but I just sat quietly listening to whatever bullshit came out of his mouth and biting my tongue as to stop me from interrupting and confronting him for all the lying.  His shrink… not mine!

Mommy, average mommy, now turned out to be an alcoholic.  That same mommy that he had portrayed as an overly protective mom who fought for custody against her mean wicked ex-husband who tried to abduct diluted SPV a couple of times…  Now, she was an alcoholic who had separated him from his now loving dad and… blah, blah, blah… went on an on… for so, so long!

When he was just a little boy, he continued, drunken Mom had taken him on a trip and had invited a couple of men into the hotel suite; one of them a cop - yes, yes… as to make the story a bit more dramatic, right? - when he suddenly was awakened by a woman screaming… jumped out of bed and witnessed a violent scene. He went on saying that as he tried to help drunken Mom he was whacked unconscious… never knowing what happened afterwards.

Yeah… Hmmm… I mean, really?  Average Mommy?  And then… unconsciousness?

At this point, our faces went… I don’t know… somewhere… ‘cause when he looked at us he began saying that, oh, well… he really didn’t know if he had dreamt it or if it really happened or…

Uhm, what?  He comes out with the most freaking complicated longest story in the world and now he doesn’t even know if it’s true!?  Okay, so where’s the freaking drama then?  Dreams causing shrink appointments with an audience?????  See what I mean when I said I was about to say bye-bye?

The shrink hugged his dried tears while I watched the scene from afar wearing my winter soul… my frozen soul that was weighing the information… still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt!!! …yes, I mean, my conservation instincts tell me that when an SPV talks… you listen!

I tried to form part of the group hug and even said something about his mom that he took the wrong way… so that left me with a question mark in my brain asking: then the point of the story was…? What?  I don’t know, really, I’m lost here!  Wasn’t the point of the freaking story to pity him?  Ok… he’s diluted SPV, remember? 

Next morning, I’m the one being complained about!  Yes, Me!  I sat as an audience and now I’m the crazy bitch talking ill about Mommy!!!  Next morning I confirmed what I already knew… that the whole freaking story was a lie!  Yes, another one for a change!

See?  They love doing that.  SPVs strive for attention, whichever way they can get it, and they usually succeed.  I mean… they’re good!!!  That keeps them on the track to ratification and consecration as SPVs!  And then they wonder why you just up and leave one day!

Main goal of this diluted SPV: getting to shine as ‘Center of the Universe’ once again, being pitied, and almost psychologically pushing me over the edge of the cliff and… I don’t know… I know there are a bunch of other reasons this diluted SPV had for that winter-afternoon-shrink-appointment-with-an-audience but… what the heck… Who cares?  I said bye-bye anyway!

This story is just so you’ll know… like I do… that SPVs are capable of anything… even making up a night with drunken and possibly raped mommy… during a trip… when he was a child… and smacked unconscious…

You cannot tell me that this diluted SPV doesn’t have a fertile imagination, huh?  He nearly pushes me off the cliff and forces me to yell: Where’s my parachute???