“There is something I need to tell you…..”
That was the text message that I got the day after Christmas, about 4 months after I “met” Kevin on Tinder, and a few months after he had a complete nervous breakdown.
“I have lied to you. I am married and not the person you’ve seen in my pictures. Please do not contact me again. I have blocked your number and will not see any response you might have to this message.”
Are. You. Fucking. Serious?????
I wanted to puke. This had to be a joke! It took everything I had to finish lunch with my mom and escape the restaurant without crying. I couldn’t tell her what had just happened. Truthfully, I didn’t even know what had just happened. A million thoughts were going through my head.
1) Is he telling me the truth? He can’t be telling me the truth. He’s just saying this so that I will walk away because he feels bad that he’s a lunatic and that I’m still hanging around.
2) Wait – what if he’s fucking serious? Holy shit, if he is serious than who the fuck have I been sexting with and sending cleavage shots to? I want to die.
3) No, he’s lying about lying! Who would make up such an elaborate lie about having a mental breakdown??
4) Maybe it’s only partially a lie. Maybe he’s married AND he had a psychotic episode.
5) How the fuck could he be married? I texted with him and spoke to him every night for almost 4 months!.
6) Did this douchebag really fucking block me??
7) I feel sick.
8) This is SUPER embarrassing! What the hell am I going to tell my friends? Nobody can ever know about this! It’s humiliating!
9) This dickhead is not getting away with this!!
I tried calling him back, but as expected, my call went straight to voicemail. I needed answers and I wasn’t getting them from him, clearly. I would have to take matters into my own hands and become a fucking sleuth. The minute I got home I went online, did a few searches, and finally ended up doing what I probably should have done months earlier and paid a small fee to reverse look-up his cell phone number. The name that came up was a woman’s name. She lived in Ohio (not Chicago, not Connecticut – O ‘fucking’ hio). A quick Google search landed me on her Facebook page. There she was, with her 3 kids, and her husband, Kevin!
But her husband, THAT GUY(!?!?!), that was NOT my Kevin. No, this guy was a fucking troll; unattractive, balding, about 100 pounds, and with jacked up brown fucking teeth. This time the vomit rose into my mouth. I am going to die…. I’m in a full catatonic state, sweating like an animal, as I scour this woman’s page and read the comments and postings that had taken place over the past few months. There they are, on Halloween – dressed up and smiling. Thanksgiving – raking leaves in the front yard (in OHIO). No pictures of “sister Jenny” or of him wrapped in a blanked and rocking back and forth in a corner. That sick motherfucking liar!
From an outsider, it would appear that Kevin and HIS WIFE were a happily married couple. No signs of her husband having had a mental breakdown anywhere on her Facebook page. Nope, he was all over that shit, going to events with her, celebrating the holidays, and even helping promote her business. I looked at her friend list – and there were all of his 6 siblings (he had told me their names – perhaps the only truth he told me). And that’s when I knew for sure that I’d been had. Badly.
I called the one friend I knew I could trust and hyperventilated to her on the phone while trying to explain what I had found out. She needed to text him for me since he had blocked me. I wrote what I wanted her to say – that I knew his wife’s name and was on her Facebook page, minutes away from sending her an email and forwarding her our entire text message conversation from the day we started talking, so he better text me with some kind of explanation. He responded a minute later.
But he had no answers for me as to how or why he could have done something so awful to me, not that anything he could have said would have made a difference. He told me he had already confessed to his wife and that his marriage was probably over. He acknowledged that he was a horrible person – garnering zero sympathy from me. From our brief time texting back and forth, he still maintained that he had a nervous breakdown but “didn’t expect me to believe it” which was good because I didn’t. He admitted that I had never texted with Jenny, it had been him all along (psychotic!!!). I called him a million names, from a pervert predator, to a cheater, to a douchebag, to a sociopath. Told him he was a pathetic husband, father, man, and human being. I wish I could say that getting the chance to say those things made me feel better, but it didn’t. He asked me to please not contact his wife and make things worse on her, but understood if I wanted to for revenge. I told him that being married to him was punishment enough and that I didn’t need to ruin her life anymore.
His final words to me were, “I’m sorry.”
My final words to him were, “Go fuck yourself.”
And that was it.
I considered contacting his wife, but did I really want to be responsible for ending a marriage? Ultimately I decided that I didn’t want to have anything more to do with him. Could she really not have known for 4 months that he was talking to another woman on almost a daily basis? That he called the other woman while his kids were in the background on Christmas morning? I assume that she probably knew, and had chosen to avoid dealing with it. Or she’s completely oblivious. Or he’s as good of a liar to her as he was to me. Either way, I decided that I didn’t want to get anymore involved and that I didn’t need to be responsible for causing anyone else pain.
A few weeks later I met up with some friends for lunch. Inevitably they asked about Kevin, since he had been all I’d spoken about for months, and they all knew of the story of his “nervous breakdown.” They had been suspicious all along, but I had always defended him and made excuses for him. I swallowed my pride and admitted what I had found out. They were horrified that anyone could be so calculated and go to such lengths to prey on someone the way he did to me. One friend asked to see his pictures again, the ones that he had on his profile (I still refuse, to this day, to show anyone what he actually looks like, especially since some of them know that things got intimate between us) and immediately she said that she recognized him from one of the soap operas she sometimes watches.
Are you kidding me? She had quickly glanced at them early on, but I guess when you aren’t looking to catch someone in a lie, you don’t look that closely. Turns out all of his pictures were of this same random actor – all pictures that that I later found online when I searched the actors name. The one posing with his family and his niece? Yup, found that one too.
Thanks a lot, fucking useless Google images! Way to not work!!!
So basically, the whole experience was pretty traumatizing. I was mortified for many reasons, but mostly because I couldn’t believe how naïve I had been even when there were giant red flags practically beating me over the head. I obviously wanted to believe in the fantasy, and in doing so, in ignoring my gut, I paid for it in a huge way. Moral of the story – there are disgusting people out there who get off on using and humiliating women. Do yourself a favor, don’t be ashamed to act like a crazy person if you ever find yourself in a similar situation. Demand to meet the person or at least Face Time. If he’s unwilling to do that, run the other way. If all else fails, spend the $15 and do a background check.
And if you ever meet a really hot guy named Kevin on Tinder, SWIPE LEFT!!!