On Valentine’s Day in 2015, after I had just arrived in Belgium and before we went on our first date, Kevin received a Valentine’s card from apparently an old student of his who had gone back to Belarus. I did not see anything wrong with it as this was before we were dating and it was probably just a nice gesture. Frankly, I did not care.
He had a lot of postcards on his wall. Some of them blank, and some of them from people. Almost a year later, I decided to have a look at these postcards and discovered that one of them was the Valentine’s Day card from this woman. By this time, there were already so many double standards and so many secrets that I decided to ask him about this postcard, but I had not told him that I had already seen it. He told me that he did not know where it was and that he had lost it. The fact that he was lying raised even more questions in me. Why would he lie about that? I couldn’t care less about this postcard. What got me thinking about it was the context. He was very secretive and there were so many questionable things about him that I decided to bring this up.
When I finally told him that I had seen the Valentine’s card, he then said that it was normal to send Valentine’s cards to everyone in Belarus. I searched this custom up and found nothing about it. And if it were normal, then why the need to lie about it? He couldn’t lie very well, yet he never gave in. If I kept persisting with the inconsistencies in his lies, then he would rage at me. That was his way of silencing me.
As I had mentioned in Chapter 47, he always needed two hours in his room every night. At the beginning, it was to do “admin stuff”, then he changed it to that he had to teach for an hour and a half on Skype every evening except Sundays. And this student who he was teaching French to was the one that had sent him the Valentine’s card. He was teaching the same student for an hour and a half every evening charging €45 per 1.5 hour lesson. Apparently, she was a single mother who was a university student in Belarus. I find it very questionable that someone under such circumstances would want to have an hour and a half of lessons every evening on a long term basis.
I also questioned that, with all his other students (both internal and external from his job), he often spoke about them and how they were doing, and always referred to them by their names. I knew who they were. But with this woman, he never mentioned her at all. I eventually asked what her name was and he said Anastasia. But he never talked about how the lessons went or how she was in general, which was what he did with all his other students.
Perhaps he was watching porn instead. It could have been a possibility that he was a porn addict – especially as on the rare occasions that we did have sex, he couldn’t produce more than a few drops of semen.
The problem with narcissistic abuse is that it can be so intangible, yet when our instincts tell us that something is not right, more often than not, it’s true.