I’ve written a lot about my abusers. A1 and A2 have been the subject of my entries many times. What I haven’t really talked about is the abuse I endured from a seemingly normal relationship. In between A1 and A2 there was a guy that I was completely in love with. We’ll call him J. For the first 3 years of our relationship things went just fine. Normal arguments that were resolved in a healthy manner, respect for each other, and even loads of laughs. Then year 4 happened and I realized that not all abuse comes from an abusive relationship.
We had been rocky for a while and at one point I had started to become suspicious that J may have been hooking up with other women. There was a girl that he worked with that very obviously had a thing for him. If it wasn’t so blatantly obvious I would have just considered her his work wife and called it a day.
This particular story takes place on a Sunday. J was a manager at a retail chain and had to go into worked after hours for a store meeting. He said it was mandatory for all employees to attend, which was why they chose to hold the meeting on a Sunday after close. The store he worked at closed at 6 on Sundays, so this made it easy for all employees to be there. Ok, no big deal. Seems pretty cut and dry. Around 7ish J texts me saying a few of the guys were going for drinks. Ok, again, no worries.
Now, this bit of the story is a bit fuzzy. I don’t remember exactly how I found out, I think maybe social media, but I somehow found out that this girl from work was also going out for drinks. I ask him about it and he shrugs it off as, yeah yeah she’s one of the guys. Ok, fine, no big deal.
Well, no big deal until midnight rolls around and I have zero idea where he is. He told me he’d be home around 10 and the place they went closed at 11 on Sundays. I was worried, I knew he’d been drinking. I honestly thought he was either dead in a ditch or had gotten pulled over and popped for a DUI. I drove out to where he said they were, which was only about 10 minutes away, and there was no sign of him. At this point I had called him and text him a few times with no answer. I was in a panic.
When I got back home I call and text again, but nothing. I called the highway patrol info line to see if they could look up accidents or arrests. They looked everything up for me and there was nothing. My worry turned to anger. If he wasn’t hurt or in trouble in any way, why couldn’t he just shoot me a text and say hey I’m fine, I’m just here now. I call again, this time it rings twice and goes to voicemail. Yep, he purposely ignored my call.
About 2 hours later he finally calls me. On his way home. Tells me he had no idea I was trying to get a hold of him and they just went somewhere else so why am I even mad. Because I thought you were dead asshole. But at this point I know, he’s full of shit. I ask about the girl.
At this point all hell breaks loose. I ask him why he’s so defensive and he just yells some more. Everything is my fault all because I said he should have just let me know they went somewhere else so I didn’t worry. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but apparently it was the end of the world. In a fit of rage while we were arguing over the fact that he said he didn’t know I called, but very obviously ignored my call, I grabbed his phone. You would have thought I murdered someone. I asked him why he was so defensive over his phone, what was in there he didn’t want me to see. I never looked through it, just asked. I never did get an answer.
There was a moment that night where he had punched a hole in the door, saying I was lucky it wasn’t my face (I was standing next to said door), but I honestly don’t even remember where that happened in the timeline. But it happened somewhere between me grabbing his phone and what I’m about to explain next.
I don’t remember exactly what instigated it, but he charged at me. He came at me like a bull in a china shop and I had to physically run away to avoid getting plowed over. He cornered me in the guest bedroom. The anger on his face was something I had seen before, but never from him. I was so scared that he was going to hit me that I threw his phone across the room hoping that would get him away from me. It worked, he went across the room to pick it up.
At that point I was I thought that was it. I figured we’d walk away and discuss things in the morning. We’d never fought like that before and I blamed his belligerence on the alcohol. But he wasn’t done. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom looking out at him in the kitchen. He still had that angry look on his face like someone had kicked his own mother right in front of him. Even from across the house, he scared me. Then it happened, one of the scariest moments of my entire life.
He picked up one of those large 3-wick glass jar candles. From across the room he threw the candle right at my head. Luckily, I had enough time to duck. It hit the door that behind me and shattered. He was so angry that he missed that he charged at me and pushed me into the pile of broken glass.
I was in absolute shock. I grabbed my hoodie, my phone, and my car keys and bolted out the door. I drove to my friend’s house, who unfortunately was sleeping, and then back home. I was in so much shock that it wasn’t until I was back home in my drive way that I realized I was bleeding through my hoodie. I also apparently still had glass in my arm. I still have the scar.
Apparently he was “really sorry,” about what happened. However, that was the beginning of the end. To be honest, I should have left then and never looked back, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to throw away the prior 3 years. I figured if he really was as sorry we could work on things and figure our shit out like we always managed to do.
The next year was hell and in the end I broke things off because the trust had just been lost. There’s another story there, but it’s way to long to intertwine with this one. I did find out that he was cheating, however not with the girl from work. At least, not that I’m aware. I didn’t find out until things were over, but it was nice to have some closure and realize I wasn’t crazy.
***NOTE — I just want to make a note that on the night of the incident my daughter was at her dad’s house. She did not have to endure any of this. ***