When he came to see me he parked his spaceship just around the corner, out of my line of sight.

He must have.

There were so many strange things he said. Out of place. Out of context. Out of the blue. Like an alien being who didn’t get humans or life on earth at all, but who was trying to understand. On an intellectual level, he knew enough to use for personal gain. But deep down, he didn’t get it…

…because there was no deep down.

I now know that the bizarre things he said were ‘tells.’

Instead of questioning him–or running screaming from the room–I made jokes out of the weird things he said. Or I patiently answered his questions, as if I were talking to a child or a tourist on his first visit from the Orion Galaxy. Or I saw him as a sensitive man who was trying to understand me and himself and love and this crazy, crazy world. Or something.


But I should have run screaming from the room, because the man was telling me he was a psychopath.

Last year I read the article “10 Signs Your Man Is A Psychopath,” and it said this:

“A psychopath will sometimes blurt out something odd about himself, apropos of nothing. Like you might be cooking dinner and suddenly he blurts, ‘I’m crazy you know.'”

I’d heard plenty of things like that. I had come to think of them as “Spaceship Moments.” Here are just a few of them. He said each one without the slightest hint of humor.

Psychopath: “Why do we have sex?”

Me: The way he asked caused me to reply “Do you mean you and I...or the entire human race?”

P: He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I dunno — Anybody!”


P: “What’s the difference between being in love and loving someone?”

Me: “You can love your mother or your brother, but you’re not in love with them, right? When you’re in love, it’s different.”

P: Looked dumfounded and said, “That’s bullshit! Really?”

P: “I’m a pervert, you know.”

Me: “What? You’re the least perverted person I’ve ever known!”

P: “I’m a pervert.”

P: “We sure do get along great for two strangers, don’t we?”

Me: Struck speechless.


P: “I’m a vampire.”

Me: “You can’t be — the sun is shining!” Or “I guess that makes me a fang-banger!”

P: “No, really — I’m a vampire.”


P: “I’ve never been depressed in my life. I can’t even understand it.”

P: “I’ve never felt stressed, ever. I don’t understand this ‘stress’ thing at all.”

P: “You’re right, I’m not afraid of anything. I can’t really say that I’ve ever felt fear.”

I understand these things now, and even get a laugh thinking of a couple of them.

But there is one thing he said, many times, out of the blue, that I will never, ever laugh about, and it is this ~

(He said this with a straight face, dead serious, while looking me in the eye):

“Some people aren’t capable of love, you know.”


It never crossed my mind that he was talking about himself.






“Wonderful read… Such a great gem…

…If you’re wondering if you are encountering a psychopath, read this book and you will know without a doubt.”

“Quite relevant and helpful, written in a useful down-to-earth-style which emphasizes the practical. Obviously written from direct experience.”

“The truth shall make you free… the description of typical behavior and common reaction to that behavior was more helpful to me in freeing myself than all the books on what a psychopath, sociopath or narcissist is”

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