I started my new job at the end of January 1989. There was something about it that made me feel that I was actually valued, and I worked really hard. My hours were 7am-4pm, which was totally different than any job I'd had before. I liked it a lot.
My friend had finally divorced her husband after he tried to kill her in their small town. The town had a restraining order on him, and she finally felt safe. We hadn't spoken for quite some time, and when we did get in touch again, it was like old times between us. She made plans to come spend the weekend with me in April (why did it seem like everything happened in April?).
The night before she was coming, and I had also had planned a Tupperware party for that next morning, when I got home from work, Don was gone. He had also taken some clothes and his personal items, so he was obviously spending the night out.
He had actually been hired to clean a fitness club at night, so I knew he would be at work that night. Or I thought he would be. Apparently, after calling up there, I found out that he had taken the night off. He also left the motorcycle at home, so I knew he was with someone. He was with a girl he met working out at the fitness club. Her name was Barbara. Of course, I didn't find this out until later.
He had also taken his sisters and mom into the restaurant that she worked in to eat lunch and introduce her to them. And they didn't say it was wrong. No one stood up for me at all. But again, I didn't know these things until later.
I alternated between sleeping and watching tv all night long. I thought maybe he would show up sometime during the night, but he didn't.
The next morning, I was getting ready for the party, my friend got there, and right before my sister came over, I looked out of our second story window and saw him walking down the street towards home with his duffel bag. There was going to be no time to grill him or accuse him because of the party.
He came in with a sick grin on his face and went straight to bed. I hosted my party.
My friend had some friends who were meeting her at the neighborhood bar that night, and we were going to go. I needed to take a nap before we left, though, because of not sleeping the night before. I laid down for a while, and at one point, he rolled over and whispered in my ear to see if I was awake. I faked being asleep, and he said, "I never meant to hurt you."
I knew then that our relationship was over. I knew that something had happened with someone, and he even sounded believable when he said he didn't mean to hurt me. But he did hurt me. And I didn't know what to do.
In all honesty, I can't remember all of the details of how I found out about her, but this was just the beginning of the deception, lies and affairs.
We moved into a duplex, and I don't even know why I moved with him again. I think maybe I always thought we would have a new start each time we moved. Unfortunately, it was the same every place we went...because HE was the same every place we went. And so was I. And I had been a victim to him for a very long time. And I was sick of it.
After we moved, my friend's ex-husband got a hold of him again. This was after he lost his job at the fitness club. That was his track record...working for a couple of months and getting fired or walking away from the job. It's just what he did.
Well, let's call him "B," came back into town, and they started hanging around together again. This time, B was staying with his sister and brother-in-law and their kids. They were going on vacation, and Don spent a lot of time over there. He was actually having a sexual relationship with a 17 year old girl who had been in my home and met me on a couple of occasions. And the reason I know this is because...
One Friday night, Don went over there for the evening while the family was on vacation. I went to bed, just like I always did, and the phone rang at 3:00 am. It was B. He told me that Don was with the girl, and I should get over there if I wanted to catch him in the act. I left my pajamas on, and I drove like a fool over to the house. I rang the doorbell, B let me in, and Don knew I was there at that point. I saw him coming out of the bathroom near the master bedroom, and I asked him what he thought he was doing, as he didn't have all of his clothes on, and he did his little smirk, and I pushed him down a couple of steps and made my way into the master bedroom where I found this girl hiding in the closet with his shirt on. Well, I said a few choice words to her, and then I headed out of there.
B had told me not to tell Don that he's the one who called me, but Don followed me to the car, yelling at me (oh my gosh!), and I said, "Do you think I would just show up over here in the middle of the night? B called me!" Oh, that made him mad, and B denied it, told us both to get out of there, and I went home. This was the day, or night, that I started packing and unpacking my belongings.
I think I had everything pretty much packed up in a couple of hours, and I was sitting in the middle of my boxes when he got home. He beat the crap out of me. He hit me in the head and broke my glasses, and he knocked my dresser over and put a crack in it. There are words for people like him, and I'm not going to say them here because you know what I'm talking about.
I did go to bed, finally, and he slept on the couch next to the door. He wasn't going to let me leave. When I got up, he was right there. When the phone rang, he was right there. He didn't let me out of his sight. I finally talked him into letting me leave for a while to go to my friend's house for a while, and I think this was when I finally told her what was going on all those years. I hadn't really talked about it with anyone up to that point, but I finally did. And I was very glad.
I started making my plans for an escape around this time, too. I talked to my parents about it, and they said to let them know when I was ready, and they would help me. I kept changing my mind, packing, unpacking, packing.... And I was calling about apartments and even going to look at them.
One Friday night, he was headed over to B's house again, and I stood in front of the door and told him he wasn't going anywhere. I was 5'3", 140 lbs. He was 6'2", 220 lbs of muscle. He argued with me, and I argued back, and he picked me up and threw me through the wall. There was seriously an imprint of my body in the wall, and my fingers were bent back on my left hand when I fell to the floor. He leaned down and yelled, "Look what you've done to the wall!" And he left.
The time was nearing. It just had to be the right time.
Tuesday, I went home at lunch, and he wasn't there. I didn't really expect that he would be. But there was hairspray in my bathroom that wasn't mine. Today was the day.
I made a call to my boss and told her what happened. She gave me the rest of the day off. I called the apartment complex and got into my new apartment. I called my dad, and he called a moving company to meet me at 3:00 to pack me up and move me. And he called a security guard, too. My mom picked up my laundry and dogs, and the rest was up to me.
The movers got there and started loading everything up. The security guard stayed in the garage watching the area, and my mom, sister and I were packing up everything. Don came into the house, asked where his motorcycle keys were, picked them up, and he walked right back out again.
And just like that, it was a done deal. I had a great new place close to work, clean laundry, a new start, and I was hyped up on adrenaline. Let's face it; I had been a victim long enough, and enough is enough.
The thing I did not know was that my heart couldn't let go that quickly. And it was going to take a long time because this was me... remember me?
Addiction, obsession, failure, and guilt.
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