The Dissimulator, Part Five: The End of the Saga

Check Out Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four

At the end of the semester, Naïve Nancy and The Dissimulator were still dragging the good name of the engagement through the proverbial mud.

She was put on academic probation and went home to her family with her tail between her legs, having to admit, I’m sure, that they were right to be concerned about her venturing out of their home to go to college. She continued to see The Dissimulator for at least part of the summer. Eventually, they really broke up. He moved away, and she (finally) moved on.

But none of this happened before he’d convinced her that they were going to marry and move to Italy. Or before he told her that his father was a major figure in the Indian Mafia (?!?) and issued threats on her life should she decide to say or do anything he deemed inappropriate.

The Dissimulator contacted me twice during the next school year. He claimed to be engaged to a basketball player at some college or another and talked about how wonderful his life was. I choked back the rage that bubbled to the surface and the vomit that rose in my throat. I haven’t had contact with him since.

Naïve Nancy came to visit me a couple of times that year, and I went to several raves in dirty, dirty City Below the Sea with her and a friend.

She found me on myspace recently. She’s married now and has a beautiful new baby. The Dissimulator is a figure in her distant past.

I still tell people this long and true story from time to time when the setting is appropriate. I tell it because the things he lied about are so outrageous that they make for great telling. And I tell it because I learned a whole helluva lot more that year from my association with Naïve Nancy and The Dissimulator than I did from any of my classes.

The Misogynist and I discussed the story of The Dissimulator last night over drinks. I realized that a good portion of Nancy's sticking around probably had to do with her being/feeling indebted to The Dissimulator, since he paid for her first semester of school. It may have also had to do with her not wanting to be alone. (And, you know, that whole 'love' thing I hear so much about might've actually played into it just a bit.)

This whole experience is a large part of the reason I can’t handle lying. I realize that lies are often easier than the truth within the moment, but I don’t believe they're worth it in the end.