I find myself in a lot of adventures. I seek out all sorts of people to befriend. One such memory comes to mind that occurred to me last year, and it was very much something out of a Cold Case Files episode, if things would’ve turned out differently. I ventured after work to Lansing, Michigan, which is several hours away from my home base in Indianapolis, Indiana.
I was in a hypomanic state. I realize that now. I met someone in a polyamory forum, and hit it off. We talked about all sorts of higher education based things, from Homer to Voltaire, to Dickens and beyond. She has a masters degree from University of Michigan, and I was working on my masters at the time. This was a meeting of minds, then the other shoe dropped. No matter how flirtatious things could or would become, there was another man waiting. This was of course the start of a polyamory exploration, so that wasn’t odd, but it did turn odd when he decided he wanted in on the conversations just as much as her. So now, instead of talking to just one person, I was supposed to give my time to talking to both in equal measure. I was fine with that. I didn’t mind. I would be talkative if I could, and both were very interesting people, with intelligence that I didn’t usually get from many people around me.
After several months of this, I was invited to visit them at their home. That’s right, I was told to drive up several hours, bring a six pack of beer, some strawberries, Rum. Sure, why not, I obliged in going forward with this, only to find myself on long stretches of highway, solo, thinking that my death was to come. I took out 800 dollars from an ATM, and put them underneath my seat. I wrote on the envelope, “If found, call xxx – xxxx, and tell her I was killed, and that I was headed to Lansing, Michigan to meet a couple,” then gave the address and phone number of where I would be, a message that was meant for my ex wife. Long stretches of highway alone, led me to think of all the stories I’ve read about men that sought out partners, and sex, only to get sliced up by scorned lovers and more. Was I next? This is how these stories start, the lonely man finds someone to connect with and then is lured into the unknown, where a jealous husband awaits to stab, cut, or shoot through the brokenness of the heart.
I was definitely on my way into that door, and my hypomanic state didn’t help me with making rational decisions. It was a season of mania for me, and I didn’t even realize it was happening.
After hours on end, I landed in Michigan, and was welcomed with open arms to the location. There were several kids there, and two people that were into polyamory, but were thinking more about a molecular structure than just a traditional solution. I wasn’t sure what to expect, I certainly wanted to be a part of their inclusive poly world, but not if it meant being with the man, as I’m not bisexual. I’m heterosexual, and was exploring the notion of polyamory, which in turn was really more about physical connections than anything else. In a way, I thought things would turn physical, but that’s not how things occurred here, as I started to realize that the temptations of the flesh would not be on the cards. I was even told in explicit terms, “there will be no P in the V”, as I was intersected for several hours and interviewed about who I was, my intentions, and so much more. I passed many a test, and it was an interesting thing to witness, having a couple trying to add a molecule to their world, then things took stark turns.
Manipulation of Sound
During the conversation, I noticed that the man had a specific manipulation in place. He would make a sound and the woman would ask him to not, and if he would continue, she would be entranced. This was a very specific type of hypnosis that I had not seen before. There was a keyword and a sound, and she would become entranced with him. He told me that I would learn that too, and I would be able to control her and get her to do whatever I wanted for my pleasure. I found that to be off putting, but she didn’t seem to protest much.
The manipulation of sound was odd, but things went further than that. When he went to shower, she and I were alone. She told me that a doctor had told her that her neck muscles were strained, and that she had a weakened esophageal region. She said there was scar tissue found there, and it was from being choked too hard. This is an obvious BDSM thing, and I said, “is that what you like?”, in which she said, “he likes it”, and, “he gets what he wants, always”, giving this an odd shift from a happy polyamorous community find, to a sinister plot of abuse and the devil one knows. The devil you know is often the one that people go with, but in this case, this was a devil I did not know.
Blog readers, I am going to share with you something that I have not told many people. This couple in Lansing, Michigan did not know this, and there was no way that they could have known this at all. I wanted (maybe still) to learn how to play trumpet. As I was getting ready to leave their home, they come out and tell me something. “Do you happen to know anyone that wants to learn how to play trumpet?”. A coincidence? Or clairvoyant? I literally told no one else, no one knew this, and to this day no one else knows aside from myself and now you readers. This seemed like a very specific thing to match up with, and a coincidence by design is not something that I believe in, but here I was, looking at a trumpet being offered to me for free.
I declined to know anyone that would want a trumpet.
I wanted it.
How did they know?
I decided to leave, and not look back. In the coming months I was told many secrets from her, and eventually she asked me not to leave and that she loved me. In such a short time? The man, not husband mind you, asked me to step away. To leave and not come back. I called him Ahab, I told him that he’s looking for a threesome masked in polyamory, and as I write this, they found it with another woman. He gets double the woman, and his needs met, but what about the ladies? I don’t know.
What I do know is that I was being courted to be the whale, and Ahab was going to stop at nothing to get me in there with words, phrases, and offerings of a temptation that would have made a simple man stay. Not me. I’m not into the destruction of someone else for my pleasure.
There are elements left out of this. A piercing I paid $200 for, children that were starving because the groceries weren’t paid, and chain smoking, as well as yelling and frustration. A Fall Out Boy song played as I closed the door on their apartment, and she was standing in a hallway telling me not to go because he was mad…but I couldn’t stay or save.
It’s the devil that you don’t know that can very well pull you into the quicksand. I’m not polyamorous. I’m not hypomanic, and I’m getting help. But did they get help? Did she escape death?
I don’t know.
I just don’t know.