The time I spent alone brought clarity to my thoughts. As I rode my bike to the beach, I was so engrossed in my thoughts, I nearly hit a stray dog wandering in the road. Nin’s ego had grown huge over the last year, and her opinion of herself was so inflated it was on the point of bursting. Perched on a log under a tree, I wrote in my pocket notebook.

It seems she has developed a superiority complex. But she does not portray it in public. She is still demure, but I have seen her in action arguing with her family aggressively. Not nice at all. I put this down to her family’s attitude (mother and sisters that is) and not hers, but now I’m not sure I was right. Perhaps I would not allow myself to believe what my eyes could see.

She mocks me in public and in front of other people she barely knows. Thais and farangs alike are shocked at her behaviour. I didn’t come to terms with what should have been obvious a lot earlier. I was committed to the relationship and didn’t want to believe or accept what was happening.

She curses, using harsh language to bring intensity to her attacks. When I challenge her, she blames it on me. I am the one who taught her, when in reality, I seldom swear, and then only when he I am angry or upset. I would teach no one to behave in such a way.Nin is a dark angel, and she used her powers of seduction to convince me of her undying devotion to Buddha, before she broke me into small fragments. The escalation was gradual and controlled. I should have seen something was brewing, but she is a clever manipulator.

I asked her, more than once, why she pretended to know everything and why she thought she was a better person than everyone else. I received no more than a quizzical stare on each occasion. So, I kept the other questions in my head, sure I would get a similar response and believing I could find the answers myself. A week after Nin left, when I got back from my morning walk on the beach, I made coffee and wrote each question down on an A4 pad. There were seven, in no particular order, and they were a challenge. Even when I thought I had an answer, it was an answer, not the answer.

There were other possibilities.

How can she present herself to the world as a beautiful person, yet treat me so abominably?

Did she ever love me, or was it a charade until she finally told me the truth?

Was she dishonest from the start?

Why did her family speak badly about her?

Why was she concerned about uniting her family when they didn’t want unity?

Why did she leave me before we sold the house?

Would she have been the same if I were rich?

If I could find the answer, not just an answer, to each question, I might have an idea why she abused me.

I want to believe her barrage of snide comments were frivolous. But I know they weren’t. Every word was a rapier thrust or a razor slash intended to maim. Was the plan to make me doubt my worthiness, and force me to leave, or so I would tell her to leave and, either way, she could justify screwing me financially? I had heard stories like it, but I knew the importance Buddhists place on honouring. They call it ‘Gat-dtan-yuu’, the feeling towards someone who contributes prodigiously to your well-being. Any person who does anything hurtful to such a benefactor is called ‘nee-rá-kun’, which is utterly reprehensible, as a cardinal sin to a Catholic. If Nin is true to this teaching, then it rules out ‘nee-rá-kun’.

Whatever I think is inconclusive. Whatever I believe is just a belief, not a fact. I am sure she is damaged and unstable, and there are facts to hang my beliefs on. Playing amateur psychiatrist is driving me nuts, and the thought of being a real one is too scary to contemplate.

I opened a third beer and read some of her barbs and my retorts. Stuff I recorded for posterity, so that one day I could laugh at the banality of the saga, which I don’t find amusing now.

You are a bad person. No doctor can help you – Good, I’ll save on medical fees then.

You are not good enough for me – I worked that out long ago.

Nobody is good enough for me – I’ve got no chance then.

Why are you so stupid – It comes naturally.

Why are you so rough and rude – Strange, I always thought I was smooth and charming.

You think I’m your slave – Don’t you mean, you think I’m your slave?

You can’t do anything without me – Where were you before my last birthday?

Why do you look so ugly? – I work hard on my appearance.

I like Phuket because it’s full of handsome men. On the beach every time, I see handsome men – I must borrow your glasses.

Is it any wonder that a woman who talks to her beloved like that is an iceberg, incapable of warmth or intimacy for any sustained period?

After the fourth beer, I lightened up.

I remember her saying she asked her Thai boyfriend if he could stay with her without having sex. He was younger than her, twenty-five, with all parts working overtime, so needless to say the relationship didn’t last. What was a randy young man to do? Pleasure himself to an early grave?