I have searched for ways to release all that I have held inside of me for a few years now, and this seemed to be a good start.
I wish I could say that I’ve moved on from this (Lord knows I’ve tried), but something always seems to remind me a few days later.
As un-original as it may seem, this is about a boy. Emphasis on BOY. He seemed harmless enough. He could make me laugh, it was easy to relax around him and I certainly enjoyed riding around on his motorcycle.
Three weeks into the relationship he starts spending a lot of time staying up on the computer playing games with his brother and his friends. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time, I liked games too, but it was every day. All night. I’d go to sleep for work by myself (we started out as roommates). I’d wake up for work at 6am and he’d still be playing. Night after night.
When I asked him about it he would tell me he was sorry and that he doesn’t usually do it. That it wouldn’t be as often anymore.
Ironically, that probably wasn’t the first lie he told me.
Fast forward a year.
Still playing games. Still not working. He finally receives disability pay from the military. I think, great. He can start helping with bills. What a joke THAT was. When I go to ask for his half he always says he doesn’t have it. When I asked where all his money went he would make up some bull shit. Few months later I find out he was “donating” it to his friend for his gaming channel during his streams.
Gotta be fucking kidding me, right?
MONTHS I took care of the bills. He had a job for maybe a few months during what was a 2 year relationship at the time. I busted my ass to pay bills. Pulling doubles. Spending all my money on groceries to feed his fat ass.
But I digress. That’s not even the worst part.
He was violent.
We argued over the dumbest shit like him being on his games all the time, me feeling like I’m just his roommate all over. He made me feel dumb for trying to be intimate with him at any time. Only time it was appropriate was when he would come to bed at 4am and want some. Sex was lame. Lasted less than 3 min on average. I never got mine. And I’m not just saying that to be mean, I’m being dead serious. An entire 2.5 year relationship. NOT. ONCE.
Did I cheat?
Did I ask for the entire world?
All I wanted was someone to love me as I loved him.
He would throw things. Make me feel stupid and question myself constantly. Emotional and mental abuse our whole relationship.
After a while I just pretended to be happy. I stopped caring what he was doing after I found multiple dating websites. One on a gay dating website. With multiple conversations. One with a tranny.
But when I tried to break up with him he again made me question myself. My self esteem was none existent.
He took away all of my friends. Alienated me from anyone at work…It was a nightmare I didn’t know how to escape from.
He’d never argue in front of someone else. Always behind closed doors. He’d corner me, literally, and not let me move until I agreed that we were okay and everything would be fine. That I was overreacting.
One day he pushed me. Luckily I fell into the bed, but the realization hit me like a 100 ton anvil on my head. I needed to leave. It was only going to keep getting worse. One day he’ll hit me. Then one day he’ll hit me and not stop.
A couple months later I stopped making excuses that it wasn’t the “right time” and after a long night at work we got into an argument because of his jealousy for the millionth time.
So I broke up with him.
He proceeded to insult me. Sarcastically telling me my dead aunt would be so proud that I gave up on something so great….and as much as it angered me….it’s what I needed to bring the fire and resolve back. SO I told him, “Yes….Yes she would be. She was in an abusive relationship and had 3 children with that man….and SHE LEFT. She packed up her children and told him to go to hell, because that’s what was best for HER AND HER CHILDREN.”
He wouldn’t let me leave. I had to pretend that I just needed some time to myself and I would come back if he proved to me that he would get better and stay that way.
Little did I know he had a plan to make sure of it.
I started receiving random texts from random numbers calling me names. Knowing where I was. Whenever I would talk to him about it he would say he was getting them too. I was officially paranoid. All I wanted to do was live the life I had abandoned for 2.5 years. I didn’t want to sleep with anyone. I just wanted to go out…meet people….be myself again.
But every time I would get a text. Calling me names. Random numbers knowing where I was and who I was with. He was still trying to isolate me. Trying to get me to think I couldn’t trust my friends.
I would get phone calls from him. If I didn’t answer he would call again. Then text me. Text me then call again. 40+ times. Every time. Keeping me up even though I only had time to sleep for 4 hours in the first place in between shifts.
So I changed my number and told him he wasn’t getting it. Only family and important people at work were getting it.
He would show up to my work at midnight while I’m walking to my car, with my dog and his dog. He would try to steal my phone from me to see who I was talking to. Always getting in my face. Keeping me from leaving. He would threaten to keep my dog from me. When I would tell him to keep him he would recant, saying that I can’t abandon my dog like that. That I was a bad “mom” if I abandoned him. He would say anything to keep the argument going. When I snapped and punched my truck he would go into “it’s ok ******, you’re fine” mode. Trying to calm me down and act like I was crazy.
I was crazy. I needed a way out. I hadn’t escaped him yet.
But he was panicking. I could see that now. He even pretended to overdose on pills to try and get me to come over. (An hour drive). Luckily my roommate at the time was smart and knew his game. She called 911 on his ass and when they showed up he acted as if that wasn’t what he meant. That it was a mistake.
I was to my breaking point. I was going insane. Paranoid.
But one night I figured it all out. Because one night HE snapped. He knew I was catching on to him and he panicked so badly he made it too easy.
The night before New Years Eve. I had to work New Years morning so a couple of friends and I went out a couple nights before to have a good time and celebrate. Bar closed at 2am. They suggested we go back to some ones house, make brownies and watch movies.
Hell yea. I hadn’t heard from the ex all night. I’m in a great mood.
So we go and I’m making brownies. I hear my phone going off on the dining room table.
Of course it’s him. Calling me on FB.
I ignore it.
Call. Text. Text Text. Call. Call. etc.
I keep ignoring it but my entire body is shaking.
He’s making up something about his grandmother being in the hospital and needs me right now.
I ignore it.
More texts and even more calls.
Eventually it stops.
I relax. We all start watching the movie.
I’m there until around 3:30am. Everyone leaves. I decide to leave as well instead of stay over. I’m sober enough and I don’t need the rumors, right?
So I head to my car. I don’t even get out of the neighborhood and I see his truck pull around in front of me.
I panic. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.
I drive off. He throws his body against my truck as I do so. I’m heading on the road back into town. He speeds up in front of me and slams on his breaks. Smoke wafting from his tires. So close to hitting his truck, I swerve and almost flip my truck trying to avoid him. He speeds up again. Starts running me off the road. He does this three times until I can’t get around him anymore.
He’s screaming at me. Punching my truck. Rips my door open. I curse my truck for not locking automatically. He leans over me and is trying to rip the keys out of my ignition so I can’t escape anymore.
I push and kick to get him away from me. He pushed back. Screaming centimeters from my face. I thought he was going to hit me. Pummel me into the seat.
He drives off, threatening to burn all of the stuff I left at his place. That I’d never see my dog again for the hundredth time.
….I thought I was going to die that night. I call 911. Wondering to myself why I didn’t do it sooner. Why I had tried to call my dad in another state instead.
Police meet me at a gas station. I tell them what happened. We go to his house to pack up my shit. (I had my dog by then)
All the while, he’s calm as ever telling the police “She’s upset because some ones been harassing her”
I’m utterly disgusted. All I want to do it stab him right through the stomach and twist the blade. Luckily, the police call him out on his bull shit for me so I don’t have to say a thing. Telling him that he’s lucky I didn’t press charges.
Why didn’t I press charges….
His dad and uncle are there. His dad helps me load my truck. Letting me hug him and cry helplessly into his chest while he sings a chorus of “I’m sorry”s.
I drive off leaving that poor family to deal with that psycho.
Fast forward a bit. Not even 2 months after he attacked me, he has a new gf. Information courtesy of my roommate.
A few more months. It’s summer. I move to another state.
Next thing I know I get a message from a fake account. It’s him. Not even a month out of state and he already knows where I am. He talks about how much he misses me and our “little family” all while STILL HAVING A GF and congratulates me on the move and the new promotion.
Can’t trust people. Should’ve known better.
I ignore it as I did before.
A year goes by. I hear nothing. My roar of paranoia has faded to a dull mew every so often. Life is going in the right direction.
I see a picture of him with some mutual friends. I snap. Didn’t expect to see his face in front of me.
I mention how I don’t understand how someone would remain friends with a person that attacked another friend of theirs. Another human being in general.
Said friend messages me and attacks me. Calling me names. Attention seeking. That he wishes I had never happened to either of them and that I need to “get over it already. It was over a year ago.”
So sorry I was traumatized by your best friend. How dare I have feelings.
I’m devastated but at the same time it only proved my point.
To this day I struggle when I hear someone with his name. Or a song comes on that sounds a little too much like my old life. I don’t understand why I’m made out to be the bad guy because I decided that I was worth more than what little scraps he was giving me. I wish I could say I was surprised but I’d be lying. Once I was no longer there to defend myself, it was game on for him. He had an open playing field.
I’ve heard that he has said he’s glad to finally be out of a toxic relationship. Leaving out the part where he was the toxic one. I try not to let it bother me, but when no one defends you even though they KNOW what happened…it gets to you.
THAT it what I still struggle with the most. All that I went through and the people that supported me in the beginning, have abandoned me to take up with him because “he’s changed”.
Well you can eat my ass. Fuck you guys. He will kill a poor woman one day and I don’t want to hear from any of you. Pathetic sheep.
And if you have read all this way….I told all of this….to tell you this:
Two years ago I didn’t know if I’d be alive in 6 months, let alone happy. I was struggling financially with no future in site. No bright light to give me hope.
Now? I have a man who perches a letter I wrote to him on top of the fridge so he can read it every night before he goes to work since I’m not there.
I have a career that I was able to save $500 off of the FIRST CHECK.
In 2.5 months I’ll be living with the love of my life, waking up to him and planning even more of our future together.
I guess I had to almost die…to see that life could be better with the right people in it. That I may still need help….but at least I realize that I am worth it.
I am worth it all.
He isn’t worth the shit that comes out of my dogs ass.