Satellites, Not Partners

She used to tell herself that what he had with Marte was just a friendship. But looking at it now, it was not platonic at all — it was symbiosis.

He would greet her every day with flirtations and plans for his morning, while she sent back snapshots of her children, her outfits, her meals. Their rhythm was easy. Natural. Intimate.

And at the very same timestamps, he was arguing with her.

This was the pattern. He avoided her while giving his warmth and attention to someone else. Marte was not just his breath of fresh air — she was his ideal. His mirror for the life he wished he had. When he said, “Jeg ønsker… I wish I had a girlfriend like you, a relationship like yours, a life like yours,” he was not complimenting her. He was admitting out loud: “I am not happy with what I have got.”

That is the hardest truth she have had to face — he went to everyone besides her for his happiness.

She once excused his behaviour as insecurity, as if her being “difficult” made him chase “easier” people. But that was a lie she swallowed to protect herself. The truth? If he had wanted her to be his “easier” choice, he could have made that space for her. He did not want to.

Because he did not want an equal partner. He never wanted someone with her own gravity, her own orbit. He wanted satellites. People who reflected his light back at him, not people who shone on their own.

That is why her friendships, her so-called “fan club,” threatened him. To her, they were proof of love and belonging. To him, they were competition — another stage stealing his spotlight.

His “situationships” were not about romance. They were tools. Ways to keep her confused, loyal, and isolated. He knew she would not stray. So he showered Marte with attention he never gave her — intimacy, innuendo, warmth.

She barely showed up in those conversations, except as a footnote: “She and I went to City Syd and did some shopping.” That was her role. Background character in her own relationship.

And the bitter irony? She was willing to let him take the lead, to let him manage the narrative, to stand in harmony while he sang lead. That was not enough for him. Because harmony still meant trust, still meant sharing the stage.

He did not want that. He wanted to mute her microphone altogether.

Treacherous really is the right word.

Treacherous : not trusted or dangerous.