My marriage was a nightmare.
We loved each other but in a codependent kind of way. We had some knock down
drag out fist fights. At times we hated each other as much as we loved each
other. That happens when you are in an abusive relationship. He wanted me to
himself and only himself. If he could have prevented me from going to work he
would have. He hated for me to leave the house. He hated to share me. He made
excuses for my absence; like saying I was sick. He simply wanted to hide me
from the world. I was his prisoner. There were times when we did go out
together or I would go out and find him and we would spend some time together.
It was always at the bar. It never ended well. He would accuse me of hitting on
someone or someone hitting on me and it would get nasty. We would wake up in
the morning and the house would be trashed and we would be all beat up. Ah,
alcohol fueled domestic violence. Not my favorite pass time, but I got real
good at defending myself. I used to be able to knock him out with one punch.
That’s what I have to be proud of about that relationship. Then to make matters
worse, when I finally left, he committed suicide. He blamed me. He told me that
he couldn’t live without me all the while he had a girlfriend. Did I tell you
about his cheating ways? Nope, bounced right over that one. He cheated on me; a
lot. But, I digress. He hung himself off the back of my bedroom door. He did it
because he was pissed at me and wanted to punish me. That’s what he said
anyway. So, that’s a nice take away from seventeen years of marriage. I now
wonder why I stuck around for so long.
I guess I had an awakening.
It was more like an intervention. Ok, really it was a murder/suicide threat
that did it. As miserable as I was, as sick and tired as I was, I just wouldn’t
give up. I finally had to. I knew he would do it. He would kill me and then
himself. I had to get out so, I did.
In the months after I left
he stalked me. He stalked me via text message, phone calls, drive bys, and
e-mail. He was constantly there. I couldn’t get any sleep. I would sleep in my
mom’s closet with my Pit Diesel and a loaded 12 gauge shotgun. I worked on a
secure, government installation however; he was badged for up there because he
had done some construction work there. He could get me no matter where I went.
I was terrified. It took me a long time and lots of therapy to recover from
that. But, alas I did.
I suppose I can say that I
am better for the experience. I know what I don’t want in a relationship. I
just didn’t know what I was supposed to want. When I met Mike I was still
pretty fucked up. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t accept the respect and love he
showed but in all fairness, he had issues too. It was hard to convince him that
I wasn’t what he was used to. I wasn’t going to betray him. I wasn’t using him.
I just wanted to love him. All the while I was fighting this battle he was
trying to break down the thick walls I had built around my heart. Sometimes
things were a little rough. Never as rough as with my husband. We learned to
talk to each other. We took the time to find out what the other was feeling or
thinking. One day it just happened. There was no struggle left. It was the most
beautiful feeling. Unconditional love is amazing. I can’t even describe it. It’s
like being wrapped in your favorite blanket all the time. It’s amazing what
happens when you just let go and give into it. I’ve felt this way for a long
time now. I’ve been with Mike since early 2010. Each day I fall more in love. He
gets me. He knows what makes me tick. He knows how to keep me madly in love
with him. He allows me my free will.
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