I never had a flair for learning other languages, and it was never more apparent than failing to understand almost 30 years of my ex’s deception. It suddenly struck me, if I date, that my inability to translate cheater code would be an issue. (Keep in mind, I haven’t dated in several decades and am still getting over the realisation I was married to the “Dexter” of lying and cheating.)
What may seem like a simple case of mistrusting men is really more complicated. It has more to do with me and the disconnection between what goes in my ears, travels through my head, and winds up in my heart. I'm relearning cognitive ability like a stroke victim and though the damage was not caused by a blood clot, it certainly mimics one.