So he dances her out of her twenty years of isolation. Her twenty years of only talking to him. Away from her cult. Away from his friend, her cult leader. Like a puppet on strings. And because everyone is so happy to see her, he will instantly become their hero.
I saw the puppet strings long ago.
The most classic moment is when she told the investigator she would need to talk to him later. She then called my dad (the puppet master) and asked my dad what she should say to the states investigator.
No I do not have any desire, or need, to see his puppet, any of his puppets. Especially the puppets that will proclaim they are not his puppets. Especially the puppets that will try to convince themselves there are no strings.
It was quite a smart move really. He becomes the hero for bringing her home. Maybe, he thought, I would be tempted to see her after twenty years. And even if I a not, I still get to be effected emotionally by having her puppeted and dangled in my face…. Or in other words coming to pound on my door three times in one day.
I am thankful for my support system that kicked into high gear around me.
He will not win. He may continue to dance out a new puppet, in a new way, every three weeks, as he has been doing for all of 2015. He may continue to try to keep me disheveled by his choreographed emotional barge, every three weeks. I can not stop him from doing that. But he will not win. His games will not tear me down.