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Gather around my pretties, for I am about to recount the tale of a man torn from the inside out. A man so twisted, he had not one, but two faces: one which was visible by day, and one by night.
Be forewarned that this is not a happy tale. It ends not with a chariot ride into the sunset, but with a desperate escape by a desperate woman. This is the tale of a woman, who fell for one face and not the other, and only after many a waxing moon was she finally able to make her escape.
Let this story be a cautionary tale for all women who fall a Mr. Hyde, but end up with a Dr. Jekyll.
One day, a good several years ago, I met a man who had everything I was looking for. As if taken from the pages of my diary, he manifested himself before me, and I knew looking into his eyes that I was done for.
In the early days of our love, I found my first impression to be true, and I thought my prayers had been answered. With growing affection and a little too much naivety, I fell for him much too hard and much too fast.
Everything was perfect, until one night when my prince got a hold of a bottle of liquor, and after only a few accursed sips, he had vanished for a new man to take hold.
I was introduced to Dr. Jekyll.
Before my very eyes, my beloved prince had become a monster. He was rude and arrogant, abrasive and harsh. He blustered through the night like a wild beast set loose.
I was quite taken aback. The person I saw before me was so different than the man I thought I was dating...but I was in love and I was foolish. Thinking that one night had been a terrible nightmare, a mistake not likely to happen again, I stuck around.
I was not yet ready to admit that my prince charming had turned out to be such a frog.
I waited until nightfall.
As you may well have guessed, it was not a one time mistake, but a reoccurring pattern that I would soon become accustomed to all too well.
Each night, I found myself waiting for the early hours of morning when the other man would be gone, and I'd see the person I was truly dating. I'd catch myself wanting to say, "You wouldn't believe what the other guy did last night" because it really was like I'd just spent the entire evening with a completely different person.
Sometimes, I would recount the events of the previous hours to my Hyde, but all my efforts were in vain.
Hyde had no recollection of what Jekyll had done.
As the weeks dragged on, I found myself in a balancing act between the man I loved by day and the other man who reared his ugly mug by night.
I realized to my horror that I was just as tied to Dr. Jekyll as I was to Mr. Hyde. Whether I liked it or not, when night fell, I was actually this monster's girlfriend.
Lucky me, right?
Looking back, I think a part of me did fall for Jekyll, or at least, I developed an uncommon friendship with the man. I mean, how else could I tolerate his presence? It was a sort of Stockholm syndrome. I had to amuse him, play at his game, and thwart his advances if I were to see Hyde again.
However, I could not keep up with the façade much longer.
Dr. Jekyll was not the man I wanted.
I did try, believe me, I did try to keep Hyde away from the bottle and forever eradicate Jekyll from our almost picturesque lives.
I figured if the bottle didn't exist than Jekyll didn't either, but I was wrong—so ridiculously wrong. Jekyll, who I resented, was as much a part of Mr. Hyde as Hyde himself, and the two were inseparable no matter how much I wished for it otherwise.
I realized with certainty that I had to get out.
And I did, but it was a process. Each time I tried to leave, Hyde's sweetness and sugar-dipped words would draw me back.
Yet, just when I'd convince myself to return, Jekyll would rear his ugly head. Drunk phone calls and misshapen meetings with the doctor reminded me of what awaited my return.
I came to realize a relationship, even a slight communication with Hyde, was impossible due to Jekyll. He would always be there, and he would never not be a part of Hyde whether there was a bottle in his hand or no.
They were one in the same, so I did what I had to do.
I had to cut all contact completely.
Now some may sneer or boast with raised heads, that they met a Hyde who no longer had his Jekyll. While that may be true for some, it is not true for all.
To those skeptical and to those naïve, take this tale and engrave it to your skull. Know that when dealing with a Jekyll in a Mr. Hyde that the fight is not worth the battle to be fought for the outcome is not guaranteed. The outcome depends entirely upon the man whose internal is in question, and while he may be able to eradicate the demon from within, it will have nothing to do with you.
So smarten up pretties and get out fast. There are a million men with only one face to love, and if you want your time spent wisely, then you'll only pursue those catches who are secure.
For all Hydes still have their Jekyll, and you'll never get one without the other.
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