When I decided to start telling you my story, I started from the very beginning. From the moment I met the man who would eventually become my boyfriend, my husband…my abuser. Back when I was a youthful teenager with years of happiness in front of me. Those were the days. I was never the type that thought about my future like some girls did. Planning their one-day weddings with Bride Magazine and all of their prized hopes and dreams. I lived in the moment. Whatever it was. I knew what I wanted and I didn’t stop until I got it.
Eventually, I got it. It just happened to include a man who went from quiet and shy to loud and demanding. Before I knew it, I was trapped in this violent circus of a marriage. A caged animal with the trainer constantly cracking the whip if orders were not followed or if you didn’t learn the routine fast enough. SNAP. Let’s try this again…over and over until things began to go his way. Although, his way was ever changing. Once you thought you knew the rules of the game…the plays changed and there you go…penalized. Again.
Of course, over the years there were times of normalcy. We did have three children together. So there were holidays, family visits, vacations. As they got older, they were less and less enthused about being out in public with this man because they knew at some point he would eventually draw attention to us. He always said it was because we assumed he was going to act that way. We never gave him the chance to have a good time with his family. So because we anticipated this behavior he gave us what we wanted. He’d put on a show. Usually yelling at one of the kids so that when I protected or defended them then he would have a second victim. How transparent. We’ve all grown bored of his games.
How did I keep my sanity? I fought back verbally. He could say whatever he wanted, accuse me of everything under the sun, call me names and blame me for his being born under the sign of Taurus but once I started to answer him with precise wording to his ridiculous questions and accusations you could almost see his brain self destructing. He hated it. Mostly because I would be speaking and there is only so long he could tolerate my voice but also because he would hear how stupid he actually sounds. What I learned that drove him even more crazy was when I didn’t say a single thing. I could care less that he’d go on for hours and hours. I learned to tune him out years ago. So I’d sit and stare and watch as he confused himself. It would be much more entertaining to watch if I could pause or mute the sound. Alas, I could not.
In all of these years, one thing has stayed on my mind and kept me focused on a definite happy ending. My ex. The man I should have never left. My soul mate. We’ve had many “re-connections” over the years but I couldn’t hold him back from living his life. Even though my life was not ideal how could I sit back with a family and ask him to wait? He had his relationships. He had even been engaged a couple of times but guess what…they never stuck. You know why? He’s mine. And God…do I love him. Many nights over the insanity of my life did I drift off to sleep imagining our future wedding. And on my saddest days of despair I even imagined him visiting me in the hospital. How pathetically sad. But getting back to him one way or another and living my original happily ever after was all that kept me from taking a bottle of pills and ending it all.