In the midst of the madness that became my life very few things made me smile. My daughter was one. Even though all of this craziness was going on I did love being a mother. She was so cute and smart and it was nice being able to see her learn new things. The other thing that made me smile was knowing My Love still loved me. I had a sort of peace in knowing that my happily ever after was still possible.
My husband and I worked two different shifts so while I worked he watched my daughter and when I came home he went to work. There were days in between where we both worked the same shift so either my sister or mother in law watched my daughter. So the arguments ensued because I didn’t have a hot meal ready for him when he got in at midnight or maybe I was already sleeping when he got in so he’d scream my name to wake me up to keep him company. Needless to say, I loved when I was at work. On the days that he worked and I was home, I pretended it was my own apartment. Just kicked back and watched tv or had normal conversations on the phone with friends and family. Then an hour before he’d be scheduled to get home I’d run around straightening up and making sure food was on a plate so at the very least he’d be able to warm it up. Yes, I know…the joys of marriage.
In the interim, I would call My Love and we’d talk as much as we could. I never really let on to him how bad it was. He was still hurt from me leaving him and it was bad enough I was now married with a child let alone telling him what was really going on. I just said that my husband was a maniac (true) and that there may have been a time or two where he hit me (also true). All of that aside, I knew the persuasion I had with him. I wanted to see him. As much as I could. Yeah the mornings here and there when he drove me to work were nice but brief. I wanted more. I asked him to come to my apartment while my husband was in work. My daughter was still young enough that she wouldn’t really know someone was in the other room with me. She wouldn’t be able to talk and say someone was over.
He came over a few times before we both got nervous with how easy it was going. It was starting to feel too safe. So I had to stop that because there was only one way in to my apartment. All I’d need was my husband to come home early. That situation would have been read about in the newspaper. We both knew we had to stop the visits. We did. We maintained contact though. He was in a relationship and I had to respect that too. Although I was totally jealous. He would call me while in bed and she was sleeping next to him. Can you imagine? I think back on those times and think…how daring we both were.
When my daughter turned four we moved to a bigger apartment. We had a few close friends on the block so there was no way I’d be able to sneak him in to that apartment. So once in a blue moon we’d go to a hotel. I can’t even remember what stories I told my husband as to where I’d be. Luckily, back then there were no cell phones. We had beepers. So maybe I could find a pay phone to call you back, maybe I couldn’t. Of course depending on the mood and the story there could be consequences when I got home but…sometimes, it was worth it.
I had begged My Love to take me back. After all, the girl he was with at the time had a baby that wasn’t his. He was with her since she was an infant and he was calling her his daughter. What’s the difference if we skip town and I have a kid? The difference is he knew my husband’s reputation on the street. He wasn’t going to get involved with that. I don’t blame him. I never blamed him. It was my bad decision that led up both down this broken road. So, I offered to leave my daughter with my mother and my sister. “They’ll take her and we can go.” He said I would never ask you to give up your child. I said you’re not asking, I’m offering. He said he’d think about it but I knew he would never let me do that. And I know no matter how much I offered up that situation I would never had left her behind. After a few more times together I gave him an ultimatum about it and he said we can’t “run away”. I knew that but I guess I had gotten my hopes up. So I got angry. Argued with him and stopped calling him for a while. My Love was so opposite of my husband I could never put him in a dangerous situation by making him go into hiding with me. If anything happened to him by the hand of my husband I would die. I had to get him out of my head for a while.
Oh…perfect. I have something to get my mind off of My Love. Something that will keep me plenty busy. I’m pregnant. Again. Oh joy. Depression kicked in…big time. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t even tell anyone until I started to show. I mean, my husband knew of course but I didn’t tell my parents or sister. I just didn’t even want to acknowledge that I have now bought myself an additional five years with this psycho. Yes, my decision remained. I will stay until my second child is 18. I refuse to drag kids into hiding. I’m sure it makes me as crazy as him…well, just a little less. But obviously something was definitely wrong with me that I’d be willing to sit in that hell with two children until they become of age. I just did not want to give him reason to HUNT for me if I ran. All I needed would be to take his kids away. Reason enough to go on an all out manhunt. That’s okay…I’ll be a good wife and keep things copacetic. It’ll be fine.