And down she goes

Brace yourself readers…

It’s time for cheat number 3. And it can’t be abbreviated.

Cheat number one was hard because as the title of that blog suggests: The first cut is the deepest. That’s true and all, but it doesn’t really hold a torch to cheat number 2. And cheat number 2, HurtLocker, is really quite forgivable when you compare him to cheat number three. So although this was not my first OR second heart-break… it was probably the worst. It definitely changed me drastically as a person. And when I look back on my relationship with this person, I really don’t even recognize myself. It’s a very specific version of me that never existed before or after this relationship. It’s very strange. And yet, if I had never had my heart so completely torn apart, I would never have needed 2 1/2 years for it to repair. And if I hadn’t had that time to fix what was broken and set new standards for myself… I never would have made my way to Burny. Life happens for a reason. And although it’s hard to even tell this story… I know that I have to embrace it. It’s part of me.

I met SinkinShip in early March of 2005. It had only been 3 months since I found out HurtLocker was engaged, and not that it has to be said, I wasn’t over that yet. I was still not eating and not sleeping, but I agreed to go out with Lizzard on that fateful night just because I was feeling really pathetic. She picked me up and we had every intention of heading to Pacific Beach (yes, I was living in SD at this time) or somewhere equally as ‘exciting’ but we had to make one quick stop before we began our night to say hello to her boyfriend at the time.

This is what really weirds me out… what if we hadn’t stopped? What if her boyfriend hadn’t gone out that night? What if I had just stayed home like I wanted to do anyway… where would I be? WHO would I be?

But alas, we went to Effin’s on El Cajon Blvd. If you’ve never been there, it’s a rather small Irish pub and one of my very favorite hang outs. I have so many good memories there, both before and after this night. And I find it very strange that I had never seen SinkinShip there before and I never knew him to go there while we were dating either. It was just one of those random, fate-ish things. But he was there on that night. And he was there with Lizzard’s boyfriend. There was no avoiding him. Not that I could have. There was a very strong connection between he and I, even from the very moment we saw each other. I can picture it very clearly, coming in the bar and him looking over and locking eyes… I can even remember what we were both wearing. It felt very cosmic. And I know that sounds cheesy but you’ll see as this blog progresses that this guy had a very strong pull on me.

Lizzard and I approached the table where both her boyfriend, and SinkinShip were stationed. It didn’t take Ship long to start a conversation with me. Lizzard had leaned in close to talk to her boyfriend and he and I were standing side by side rather awkwardly. It was very loud in the bar and he was very tall- 6’5”- so he had to lean way down to talk into my ear.

“I like your shoes.”

That’s what started it all. I was wearing black and pink Converses. I found it really intriguing that that was what he decided to open up with.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t see Chucks on girls very much”

“I wear them all the time.”

It was true… I did.

I was immediately attracted to Ship. He was exactly my ‘type’ if you will. Let me correct myself… he WAS my type; the type I had been attracted to from the time I started to notice boys up until Ship. It also has to be said that he was the last of this ‘type’ that I ever dated. Keep in mind that I was living in San Diego and I was wearing Chucks… Ship was tall and lean. He had amazing blue eyes, dark hair (which is a very rare combo it seems), and he had tattoos.Ttattoos were kind of my trade mark thing. If he looked like a douche, I probably liked him.

Ship was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and I could see a half sleeve (tattoo) just popping out at the bottom. True love.

So we were talking and because it was so loud he kept having to lean down and nearly shout in my ear. And after about 20 minutes of the shouting back and forth, he just kind of left his face near my ear and we talked like that… cheeks touching. I could just feel the chemistry right away, which should have been a huge warning sign for me. I can never think straight when there is chemistry. But as if that wasn’t enough of a reason for me to run in the other direction, I noticed something on his wrist as he was talking to me…

Another tattoo. And just as he was telling me a story about what he does for work- he was in the Navy OF COURSE- I cut him short and grabbed his wrist to examine it closer.

“Tell me this is written in ink!”

Ship looked at his wrist, licked his thumb and tried to rub it off. It didn’t even smudge. The tattoo on his wrist said:

Don’t be a pussy.

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

How on earth did I continue talking to this guy? Who does that? Who tattoos that on their wrist???? Trust me, I asked him all these questions and proceeded to berate him for being such an idiot. He gave me some story about how 12 of his friends all had the same thing and there was some reason for it, which of course I can’t remember now, because really… what reason could there be?

Well, that was a deal breaker for me. I wasn’t drinking and I was keeping my head on mostly straight and I just couldn’t be talking to a guy who had a tattoo like that on his wrist. No thanks! I was just about to leave when… I didn’t.

2 hours later, we were still chatting and Lizzard asked me if it was okay if she just went home with her boyfriend. He lived right down the street from the bar. I said sure, knowing that I had a lot of friends who lived nearby if need be. But also unwilling to leave my new-found idiot. So Ship and I talked well into the night… all the way until closing. I still wasn’t drinking, but NONE of my friends were answering the phone. Without really intending to, and without being even remotely intoxicated, I had gotten myself into a really uncomfortable and probably unsafe situation. Now, I’ve had my days in college but I didn’t make it a practice of going home with random men that I had just met that night at the bar. Certainly not! But at that point, I really didn’t see a lot of options. I could either go to Ship’s friends house with him. Or I could wander the streets at 2am hoping that one of my friends would either answer their phones, or be home when I got there. Neither sounded too great.

I decided to stick with Ship. He promised and swore that he would take me home in the morning and he wouldn’t try anything and that he would even walk me wherever I needed to go if need be. I had nowhere to go. I really hadn’t thought it through. So I decided to trust the guy with the ‘don’t be a pussy’ tattoo.

We went to his friend’s house and true to his word, Ship didn’t make a single move. We made some hotdogs at around 3am and continued talking. Ship had led quite a life. Another HUGE warning sign would have been his past drug use, his arrests, his family life, his crazy relationships… I don’t know, pick one. But at that time in my life, I was in the ‘I will fix him’ stage. I think all women go through some version of that, right? Well I certainly did. I thought to myself: I am going to change him. I am going to be worth it to him. He will change for me. What silly, silly thoughts. Please ladies… don’t ever even try to convince yourself of that. When you put your WORTH in someone elses hands like that… it won’t end well. Trust me.

We pulled out the sofa couch, slept side by side, and he didn’t so much as touch me. He took me home in the morning and dropped me off. We had exchanged phone numbers of course, and as soon as he drove away, he texted me that he had enjoyed meeting me.

And that is how we left it.

How different I would be if that is how we would have left it forever.

In the morning I told KayTown all about my brush with danger. She had been fast asleep when I was calling for a ride and so she was very concerned as to where I had ended up. I’m smiling to myself right now because Kay used to tell me that whatever guy I happened to be talking about was just “one of my guys.” I was somewhat of a flirt. I still am. But back in college, it was out of control. Week to week, my crush was someone different. I am a self-proclaimed lip slut. I love kissing and I had kissed my way across the entire state by that point. Note: A lip slut and a slut are not the same.

So when I told KayTown about my new crush, she brushed it off as if it were just another of my boys. And at first, it seemed like that would be the case. He didn’t call. No word. Not for a week. And then one week later I got a voicemail from a voice I didn’t recognize. It was him, but he didn’t say his name. He said that he had gone ‘out to sea’ and was back and wanted to see me. He said he was having a party at his house and I should come. I ran into Kay’s room and told her to get dressed. She was going to meet my crush! A week of thinking about a guy will always get a girl overly excited. This was no exception.

Kay and I went over to his house. I hate to even bring this up but he walked out to meet us and he was wearing board shorts and no shirt. He was into wrestling so this was a huge selling point, the whole no shirt thing. We went inside and he introduced us to everyone. He was very friendly, clearly the life of the party, and I had no trouble stepping up to meet that standard. Kay and I spent most of the night in the garage, chatting with his friends and he came back and forth to talk with us and then back into the house to be a host. It worked out quite well.

Towards the end of the night, still rather unsure of what the situation was going to develop into between he and I, Ship made a move. Kay and he and I were standing in the living room, just talking between the three of us, and he put one finger up as if to say “hold on a sec”. He took the drink out of my hand, he took the keys out of my hand and he took the phone out of my hand and he handed all of that to Kay, who was standing right there beside us. And then he put his hands on my cheeks, and he kissed me. It might sound awkward, but it was very sweet. And Kay and I were close enough so that it didn’t make her feel weird. She actually said:

“How cute! Was that the first kiss?”

It was the first of many.

I fell in love with Ship pretty quickly, fight as I might. He and I actually set up rules. He knew about HurtLocker, what had happened between us, and how devastated and fragile I was because of that relationship- which makes this story so much more painful- and he was aware that I wanted to take things slow. I know it may seem weird that we opened the X-files so quickly, but I really felt like I had to tell him where I was at. He needed to know that I wasn’t in the market to be messed with. And he seemed to understand and respect that. At first…

It was St. Patrick’s day and he and I had gone downtown with a few of my friends, and we were pretty drunk. I remember standing in the kitchen of my house afterwards and just staring at him and laughing and having a really great moment. And I remember him saying that he was totally infatuated with me. He couldn’t stop thinking about me. He was totally smitten. And I said:

“I’m in LIKE with you”.

One of our rules was that we were not going to say love. We were not going to fall in love. We were not even going to talk about things that had to do with love. Not at all. Being in LIKE was our compromise. And that’s what we used for a long while.

Shortly after we started dating, I became painfully aware of his ex girlfriend and her constant presence in his life. She called on average 20 times a day. He never answered- at least not while I was around- and he was always complaining about how crazy she was. The story seemed to fit. I remember spending the night at his house and finding a HUGE ink spot on his sheets. He said that it happened St. Patrick’s day. She came over and his roommates said he was out and so she broke a pen on his bed. Or so the story goes…

I should have seen this as yet another red flag. That is definitely not something I wanted to be involved with… but I was already in too deep.

Ship and I had a pretty relaxed situation at the beginning, which really was exactly what I needed. He had to go ‘out to sea’ often for training and I was in school and so we saw each other 3 or 4 times a week. It wasn’t everyday and that was nice. And to be perfectly honest, it was he who decided that we should be exclusive. It was he who decided to have ‘the talk’ with me. He made it serious. And I didn’t complain. But we still stayed away from that ‘love’ word. One time he said it on accident, more as a joke than anything else, and he gasped, covered his mouth and started apologizing. I had made a joke and he said: “You’re so retarded, I love you.” That was it. But it lingered…

I guess it was a few months in when things started to take a turn. I was graduating college in May of that year and I was heading to Oxford to study theater for the summer. I was actually planning to move back to Northern California before I left for Europe. That had been the plan and although we hadn’t really talked about it, I was already doubting my decision to move. When I finally did come clean to Ship about my plans, he was devastated. And at that moment, I felt him start to pull away from me and I felt myself hold onto him harder and harder. I really think that was the turning point. That was the beginning of me giving up myself to be with him.

Sometime before my graduation in May, Ship and I had our first major blow out fight. By that point in our relationship I had discovered that his party lifestyle was pretty much just that: a lifestyle. He was nothing short of an alcoholic, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the things I knew about his past dependency issues. And even more than that, he had anger management issues. And when I say that I mean that he was in court mandated classes for his anger management. But until that first major blow out, I really had not seen that side of him.

But that night, I’ll never forget. His roommate had gotten in a fight with his girlfriend and he had thrown a beer in her face. Yes, these are the type of people Ship hung out with. Of course the girlfriend stormed out, and of course, Ship felt that he needed to get involved. He ran outside after her and started running down the street after her car. As he was running, drink in hand, his pants fell down and he tripped and super maned across the cement. It should have been funny, but it wasn’t. It was sad. It was so pathetic that he was that wasted that I started to cry. And at this point in my life, I hadn’t talked to my own father because of his drinking problems for nearly 2 years, so seeing my boyfriend that drunk really stuck a chord with me.

When he saw that I was crying, he stumbled over to me and tried to figure out why. When I told him it was because he was so drunk… he lost it. I can’t really explain it. I have no idea why that set him off, but he completely lost it. He started punching the house and punching trees and screaming and throwing things. It was terrifying. I ran in the house and got into bed, hoping to just fall asleep. But he followed me in there, apologizing but still throwing things around. I was hysterically crying and totally beside myself but he just kept going.

I called Rossco at that point, even though it was about 4am, to come and pick me up. I had never been around someone like that and I was sure that the craziness was about to be turned on me. Rossco didn’t hesitate. He jumped in his car with another close guy friend of mine and he sped to get me. Thank God for that.

But as soon as Ship found out that I had called a guy to come and pick me up, he was livid. And this time it WAS directed at me. And what did I do? I apologized. I begged him to not be mad. I told him that I was stupid for calling anyone and that I was just going to go home and go to bed but that I would see him in the morning. And worst of all… I meant it. I really was sorry that I had made him so upset. Yep, I blamed myself.

When Rossco showed up, Ship insisted on walking me out. I was so scared. I had already seen Ship get into two fights and I was just so sure that that was exactly his intention when we walked up to Rossco. Thank the Lord, nothing happened. Ship kissed me and put me in the car. There was definitely some terrible looks exchanged between Rossco and my enraged boyfriend, but not even a word was mumbled. My friend driving the car had white knuckles he was holding onto the steering wheel so tightly. He couldn’t even look at Ship. I don’t blame him. And to this day I am so very sorry to both those boys for involving them in that. I brought them into such an awful situation and that wasn’t fair. But at the same time, I am so grateful to have had people in my life that care about me as much as those boys do. I feel lucky.

The next day, Ship refused to talk to me and I was miserable. I felt like the whole thing had been my fault and I was LITERALLY begging him to take me back. And please know that I have never been like this before. I have never been hit, I have never been in any sort of abusive relationship, but all the same… I was totally playing the role of the battered woman. I was defending him to Rossco. I was defending him to Kay and he was saying such awful things to me in return. He called me a slut. He said he never wanted to see me again. He said that I had ruined everything. It went on and on. But I did have one thing that he needed… his work boots. So after an entire day of convincing, he agreed to come over and get his boots so that we could talk.

All that he remembered from the night before was that I had called a boy and went home with him. He had no idea why I did it. He did not remember the punching or the yelling. He remembered that it was my fault. And when I told him about all the rest, he said:

‘Oh well, sorry.’

And that was it. He stayed with me that night. We were back together…

Our relationship only got worse, and I seemed to give up more and more of myself to make it better. Remember when I told you that I had put my worth in his hands… well the second that I convinced myself that I was going to be worth it to him to change his ways… was the second I decided that I was going to be treated this way. The more I wasn’t worth anything to him, the more I needed that worth. The more I tried to BE worth it.

One night he called me, it was a Wednesday and I had school the next morning, but he wanted me to go out with him in PB. He said that he was eating dinner and that he would be over to pick me up in an hour. I tried to convince him that I really didn’t want to go, but at the same time, I was so desperate for him to want me that I agreed. I got in the shower, did my make up, got dressed… and he never came. He wouldn’t even answer his phone.

One day he told me to come down to the beach and meet him. There used to be a huge party in PB every year called ‘PB Block Party’ and it had become somewhat of a tradition. I was planning to go regardless, but when Ship invited me to meet him down there, I was overjoyed. I went down there with DMo and it was the same story… he wouldn’t answer his phone. I was down at the beach for hours and I never found him. I found his car and I left him a note… he didn’t call me until the morning and he was mad at me because I had called him 22 times. He called me crazy. I apologized.

It wasn’t all bad though. It never is. Obviously there must have been some reason I stayed with him, right? Well… yes. But to be honest… I can’t remember the reason. I know he was funny and he could be very sweet. He was great to D’Monk and KayTown but that couldn’t have been all of it. I remember him taking me to a fancy brunch one time and I remember he went to a play just because it was ‘my thing.’ He did want to leave at intermission though… I don’t know. This is why this story is so hard for me to tell… I don’t know why I was this person. I can’t think of what would have come over me. It wasn’t real love. It couldn’t have been. Fear? I don’t know. It just makes me so sad. And it breaks my heart to think that some people live their whole lives this way… afraid. I wasn’t so much afraid of him… although the thought had crossed my mind that I should have been… but I was afraid that after everything, HE was going to leave ME. I just never knew what to expect. And I was just holding on for dear life…

When I graduated college, he was there. He was sitting in the audience, cheering me on with my mom, MacTen and my friends. LemonBass had come to see me graduate too, and of course that had caused a fight. Ship didn’t understand why I would have an ex boyfriend come to see me graduate. I didn’t understand why his ex girlfriend called so much, but I apologized. It was always my fault. And I’m sure that is why he came to my graduation anyway, to make sure I didn’t do anything bad, but whatever the reason I was so glad he was there. I remember feeling so validated that day because he was there. Because he made the effort. LemonBass had gotten on a plane. My family had driven 9 hours to be there… but the validation came from Ship.

That night was kind of a strange night, I have to say. Ship was actually quite the charmer. He stayed with me and my family all night. He even went with us to a gay bar. And he even stayed sober to watch over me and make a good impression on my mom… but that story is one for another blog. It’s actually quite entertaining. But I’m gonna breeze over it for now…

So after graduation, I had a major decision to make. Should I stay or should I go? Obviously we had been talking about it, and clearly I had been thinking about it non-stop. I wasn’t quite ready to leave San Diego, but I certainly wasn’t ready to leave Ship. I knew that would have been the end. So ultimately, I decided to stay in San Diego. I just wasn’t ready to quit. But even though I had decided to stay… that didn’t mean that my house was still available to me. I had already found someone to take my place… I was essentially homeless. But I still felt like it was the right decision.

So what did I do?

I moved in with Ship. It really wasn’t my intention for things to work out that way, but I have to say that I was very happy that they did. And I was even more overjoyed that he was allowing me to move in! I felt like we were finally taking a step in the right directions. I have no idea why the evidence leading up to this event would cause me to think that this was moving in the right direction, but that’s hardly the point. We both knew I was going to be leaving for over two months starting the following month (insert trip to Europe and studying at Oxford here) and so really, it was only ever going to be a temporary thing. He didn’t even give me a key.

Before I left for Europe, I went home to Northern California for 2 weeks. I moved in with Ship, slept there about 3 nights, and then I went home. It was the beginning of an extremely long separation for us. And leaving was very hard. I knew I was going to see him before I left for Europe, but that was only going to be for a few days… this was the beginning of the longest goodbye I’ve ever had.

The night before I left for home, Ship and I spent our last night in MY house. It was a very emotional, very humbling night. Ship was actually pretty broken up about it, and again, that was hugely validating. Anything that showed he cared was all I ever wanted. But he kept saying that I was leaving HIM. He made that very clear. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. I guess I WAS leaving him…

That night he told me he loved me. It was the first time. He broke the rule. And I loved him back.

I left the next morning. When I was home, we talked on the phone every night. One night, he broke out in hysterics talking to me. He said that he had taken everything for granted with me and now I was going to be gone. Remember how I said that when I first brought up the fact that I was leaving… I felt him pulling away. Well, apparently he regretted it. And that was all the fuel I needed to go over seas and feel confident in my relationship. He regretted treating me that way and so all was forgiven! I knew there was hope for us! I was willing to believe that a few weeks at the beginning of our relationship was what was real… and everything since had just been a bad day. He loved me. He really loved me. I felt it, finally! At the risk of being terribly lame and ironic, I’m going to quote one of my husband’s songs:

“That ain’t what love is. That ain’t what love does.”

I had a graduation party at my house in Nor Cal a few days before I left for Europe. Ship actually got on a plane and flew up for it. I couldn’t believe it. He kept telling me that he was going to, but I never really believed that he actually would do it. Even when he said he had bought the ticket, I still didn’t really believe him. But when I went to the airport to pick him up and he came down the escalator with a huge smile on his face, I knew that it was actually real. I thought that I just might be in the relationship that I hoped I was in. And it really felt like all the bad stuff was behind us and we were turning over a new leaf. He had told me he loved me. He had admitted he regretted everything. We had moved in together! We were ever starting to talk about getting married. It was really real.

The night of my graduation party, Ship was introduced as my boyfriend to everyone. Again, he didn’t get drunk and make a fool of himself. He seemed to be very much in control and he was happy to chat with anyone who he came in contact with. He understood that I had to mingle and that I wouldn’t really be able to babysit him. He didn’t need that. Despite it all, come to find out later, no one was really that impressed by him. I was the only one who really fell under his spell.

After the party, things took a change. My cousin, some friends of mine and of course, Ship and I, all went out to the bars. Ship made up for lost time and was quickly intoxicated. He was talking to this girl, clearly flirting with her, which really didn’t bother me as much as he was hoping it would. I knew that he was staying at my house and I knew that he was just trying to piss me off, and so I played right back. I started flirting with a guy friend of mine. About five minutes into that, he came over, grabbed me by the arm and made some rude commit about how I was acting. I brushed it off, but it was obvious that the night was over at that point.

We all took a cab ride home and the total cost of the cab was $12. My cousin had a few bucks, but the rest of the cab fare fell on Ship’s dime. He was my boyfriend after all, and it would have been the right thing to do to pay anyway, but for some reason, this really set him off. We had to walk about a block from where the cab dropped us off and by the time we got into the guest room at my mom’s house, Ship was beside himself. He started screaming at me and slamming doors and hitting the walls. He grabbed me several times and it felt like he wanted to throw me across the room, but he didn’t. I was just sobbing the whole time. He was saying things like:

“You are just like your mother.”

“No wonder your dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

He was really going for the gut and he was so far out of line it was hard to know where the lines were. He really didn’t know anything about my dad. Only that he was an alcoholic and we hadn’t talked in a while. But he also knew that it was a sore subject. And he totally used that against me. It was the first time in my life that I was really scared that I was going to be beat up. I was just standing there against the wall waiting for the blow.

It never came. Thank God. But neither did anyone else. Ship was screaming at me. There was a house full of people. And no one even knocked on the door. And you know how that made me feel? It made me feel like everyone thought I deserved it. Can you even believe what one person can do? Can you believe what control one person can have over another person? It still amazes me today.

He finally stopped yelling and started crying. Then came the apologies and the ‘I’ll never act like that again’s.’ I was a cliché.

The next day on the drive back down to San Diego, Ship was driving and he brought up the fight. I asked him if he remembered what had happened and he said he had. He clearly felt the same way sober as he had drunk the night before. I cried the whole drive home.

And then I left for Europe.

If you read my journal from Europe, you would never guess in a million years that a blog like this could ever exist. For the first month, I gush about Ship. I talk about how much I miss him and how much he understands me and supports me. I was gone for over 2 months and I talked to him 3 or 4 times. MacTen talked to her boyfriend almost everyday. Something is wrong with that picture.

But by the second month, about half way through my program in Oxford, a little light started to be shed. I was finally removed enough, and happy enough, and WORTH enough on my own that I was able to see for the first time, that maybe things weren’t the way I thought they were. Maybe Ship wasn’t the guy for me. I was hopeful, but I was also starting to be realistic. And my journal reflects that too. Thank God for Mac. This trip is where we really solidified that we NEED each other and that we will always be connected, no matter what distance comes between us. Mac was my rock through all of this with Ship, especially in Europe. Kay was there for the good times, Mac was there for the fall out. Kay was in New York by that time and although she tried to offer her support, she was going through her own blog-worthy relationship drama.

By the time Mac and I got on the plane to come home, I already knew that my relationship was over. I changed in Europe. My eyes were opened. And I really felt ready and prepared to end things with Ship. I knew it was the best thing for me. And more than anything, I knew that I had out grown him. I had become the person who was not going to put up with that shit anymore. But that didn’t make what was coming any easier…

Ship was at the airport when I got home from Europe. He had insisted on being there. And as soon as I saw him… everything I thought I knew went out the window. Love is stupid like that.

We went home to OUR house and I fell asleep. It was all just too much to deal with. And that’s what I did for an entire week. I just went to sleep instead of dealing with what I had realized in Europe. Instead of getting myself out of the shit hole I had put myself in. I did that until finally, I couldn’t sleep anymore. I just laid there. I just laid there next to this man who I didn’t even know, and I was afraid I was going to slip back into the girl I didn’t know as well. And it was on one of those restless nights that I heard Ship’s phone go off. It was past midnight. Who one earth could be texting him? I had to know.

And so I did something that I had never done before. I went through his phone.

The message had come from the ex girlfriend. The same one who had been tormenting me our entire relationship. We had been together nearly a year, and she was still around. What did she say:

“Hey, is Sarah your girlfriend? Because it says you have a girlfriend on myspace.”

Okay.

First of all: Myspace? Ship had a myspace when we first started dating and he deleted it because he didn’t want his ex to know what was going on in his life. As far as I was concerned he didn’t have a myspace. And now his ex… the same ex he was trying to avoid… was friends with him and I, his LIVE IN girlfriend, was not.

Second of all: Who the FUCK is Sarah?

Third: Why does your ex think that this SARAH is your girlfriend????

And finally: Why does you ex, who you talk to every single day, NOT KNOW that your girlfriend of nearly a year is named MRSWATERCLOSET?!!????!?!?!?

I can not tell you how difficult it was for me to lay there the rest of the night next to him. I can not tell you how sick it made me to kiss him goodbye in the morning. And I can not even begin to explain to you the amount of hate I felt when I got on his computer the second he walked out the door, found him on myspace and discovered that a SARAH had writen on his PUBLIC wall:

“I miss your penis. Come back soon.”

That is exactly what she wrote. I wish I could erase those words from my mind, but I don’t think I will ever be able to. She lived in Newport Beach. He wasn’t just cheating on me. He had a whole other GIRLFRIEND.

I called Mac, we went to lunch, and we planned my escape. I waited until he got home and I told him that I was leaving. I didn’t mention anything about anything. I just said that I couldn’t trust him and that I was leaving. And I did.

Again, I wish that was the end of the story.

I cried for a day or so. It was totally devastating, even though I knew that it was the right thing and even though I was already planning to do it BEFORE the penis missing Sarah. And if you’ll remember from the HurtLocker story (cheat number 2), I said that the best thing Hurt ever did for me was to just let me go. He never tried to explain. He never went after me. And that is a blessing. I’ll always be grateful to him for that, even though it tore me up at the time. Because that is something that Ship refused to do. He begged me to come back. He refused to leave when I came to pick up my stuff. And ultimately, he got the chance to ‘explain’ himself. I had to come back. All my stuff was there. I had to move out, and he knew that. So he just waited. And finally he got his moment. And he somehow managed to get a hold of me again, and he made me believe the completely ridiculous story that Sarah was yet another crazy ex who was just trying to cause him trouble. He had an excuse for everything. Everything. And I decided to believe him…

He was desperate to get me back, but I felt like I just couldn’t jump back in. Obviously. A few nights later, I was at a party and he was out with his friends and he called me and asked me to come home. I said I didn’t think it was a good idea and so we got into a fight and I ended up crying. I was drunk so I asked my sister if she would take me up to his house so that I could get the rest of my clothes out. I was done at that point. I had had it. He was trying to win me back and it was clear that nothing was ever going to change. I was through.

So D’Monk drove me to his house at about midnight. I knew he was gone because I had just talked to him at the bar. I had never known Ship to come home before last call so I figured we had some time. I was wrong.

I was in the garage, getting my clothes out of the dryer, when I heard my sister talking to someone at the front door. It was muffled and I couldn’t hear what was said, but I flew out of the garage to confront Ship.

I am not kidding you, as I opened the door and came into the kitchen, I saw Ship pushing a girl out the back door and onto the back deck. I was totally floored. Had he brought a girl home? Had he called me and asked ME to come home and when I refused, brought someone else home?? No. Couldn’t be.

I walked to the front door and asked my sister if that was Ship. SHe nodded. She looked totally freaked out. I asked her if he had a girl with him. SHe nodded again. I sighed. I just sighed. And I think I laughed. I was just dumbfounded. I couldnt’ believe it. After everything…

I went to his room, picked up the rest of my stuff and walked out the front door and got in my sister’s car. And just as she was about to pull away, I changed my mind. He couldn’t get away with this. And so I did what every other girl would do…

I became the girl that Ship would tell his one night stand was his ‘crazy ex girlfriend’.

Ship met me at the front door and led me out into the street. He started walking away from me down the street but I wasn’t going to let him get away. He kept saying “baby… just come here.” Can you believe that? And of course I said every cliché in the book.

“You just lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“No one will ever love you like I did.”

“You are no better than HurtLocker…”

“Turn around and say goodbye to me!”

All the good lines. And I kept it together… or so I thought. When I got to the bottom of his street I realized that my entire face was wet with tears… but I didn’t even feel them anymore. I don’t think I even let him speak at all. I got back in my sister’s car and I completely broke down. I think D’Monk even started crying. I don’t know that anyone has ever seen me that upset. And to be honest, I think I was crying for Hurt and for Ship all at once. I was feeling the tear of both of them… the first tear I wouldn’t allow myself to feel and so this time… it was so much worse. I really thought I would never be able to trust ever again. D’Monk took me straight to Mac’s house. It was almost 4am.

Even after all of that, the saga of SinkinShip and MWC did not end there. He showed up at my house. He called in the middle of the night. He emailed. He wouldn’t give up… and my heart just couldn’t take it anymore. I kept slipping up. I would go back, for a day or an hour, but it always ended up the same way. He really never changed. And I just couldn’t stop listening to the excuses. I just couldn’t tear myself away. So I decided that I had to move away. I guess you could say that I decided it was time to RUN away.

I remember telling Mac that in my car when we were leaving the gym one day. I told her that I was going to have to move home and she broke down crying. She told me that she didn’t think that it was the right thing to do. She said that of course she didn’t want me to go for selfish reasons, but she really felt like it was a mistake to run away. She was right. I moved in with her and I lived on her couch for almost a year. And that is where I met Raps too. And with the help and support of my amazing friends, I was able to stop answering the phone when he called. And now that he didn’t know where I lived, I was able to avoid him. He was almost out of my life…

I was at my favorite club in PB. It had been months since the last time I answered Ship. He still texted me sometimes, but I had stopped answering. I was standing at the bar, about to order a drink when I saw him. He was standing at the opposite side of the circular bar and he had already seen me. He was staring at me and he has this shit eating grin on his face like I was some long-lost friend or something. I broke eye contact and walked away. I felt my phone buz in my pocket:

“You too chicken to talk to me?”

I ignored it.

But as we were about to leave, I saw him coming at me out of the corner of my eye. There were crowds of people between us and I could see that his girlfriend, SARAH, was standing in front of him yelling at him. But he was looking right over her head at me. And just as I passed, he reached over her, through the crowd and he grabbed my arm. He yelled:

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

I answered:

“Because I don’t like you.”

It just came out of my mouth, but in hindsight, it was a pretty perfect thing to say. I pulled my arm out of his grip and glanced back just long enough to see his girlfriend become enraged. And I felt this huge weight life off my shoulders. I thought to myself, ‘that’s not me anymore’. I don’t have to be his girlfriend anymore. I’m done.

And I went home and I cried. I cried because I was disappointed in myself. I cried because I was embarrassed. And I cried because it was finally over. I was really done. And I was.

I saw him one more time to say goodbye. And it was a real goodbye. We both said our piece and then we went our separate ways. Gotta love closure.

I made a decision after that night at the bar. I realized that even though he was clearly the one doing all the wrong in the relationship, I was the one who not only picked him to be in my life, but allowed him to stay as long as he did. What a waste. Never again. That is what I decided. Never again. Not even if I ended up alone forever. I was never going to let my heart make any decisions. I was not going to talk to anyone with a tattoo. I was not going to even TALK to anyone not worth the time it took to say hello. I just wasn’t. I couldn’t afford it. Between all my failed relationships, I had wasted YEARS of my life. But like I said at the beginning of this blog… hours ago… I was not going to regret a minute of it. Even then, even when it was breaking my heart, I still knew that Ship was going to be THE reason for the rest of my life turning  out well. I knew that if I had never met him, I would have never had such an amazing wake up call. I just wouldn’t have become the person I am now. And for that, I have to thank him.

Absolutely everything happens for a reason.

The next boy I dated…

…was Burny.

And the last time I talked to Ship was when he saw my wedding pictures on facebook. He said I looked beautiful. I did. And I didn’t need him to tell me that. I already knew.

And there he goes…

Welcome back to WoopsieDaisey Wednesdays. I wasn’t so sure how this category would pan out, but quite frankly, it amuses me. Turns out I know lots of people who fall and lots of people who have ‘woopsiedaisey’ moments. So it really works out for all of us.

As a matter of fact, I just recently realized that I have a wealth of fall stories in one new friend: PostalService. If she will permit me, I’d love to tell some of those stories in the coming weeks. She too is a squiggly circle and tells stories amazingly, so I might just have to have her be a guest blogger. We will see. I will check with her and then I will be sure to share with you all, one way or another, her amazing stories that kept me laughing as I was trying to fall asleep recently in Vegas.

But for today, I will tell one of my favorite fall stories; one that has become somewhat of a legend. Yes, it involves my step father. And yes, believe it or not, it involves him being drunk. See, I told you that living with an alcoholic has its perks. Despite the heartache, it has provided me with an arsenal of stories. This one included.

So, this story takes place back in the JayHans period. Pre-LemonBass and Pre-our official proclamation of feelings. JayHans and I were in our early teens (or at least I was), maybe around 13. We were flirty, but then again, we were young so what does that really even mean? Basically, it was clear that we had crushes on one another. This might have only been the third time I’d ever met him, I’m not sure. But regardless, we had managed to find ourselves in his family’s hot tub alone. Let me promise you, it was very innocent. Like I said, we were just kids and we hadn’t even admitted to ourselves, let alone each other, that we liked each other. My sister might have even been in there with us. So pretty much we were talking. The rest of the family was not far away, drinking and carrying on in the garage. Like I mentioned, this family knows how to party.

And out of nowhere, here comes my step dad, stumbling up. Now I have probably described this before, but it warrants repeating. My step dad is a DEAD GIVEAWAY. There is never a question of ‘was he drunk last night?’ He is worse than a frat boy. And I don’t understand it because you would think that after a life time of drinking, one might develop somewhat of a resistance to alcohol. I mean, I guess what I can conclude from that is he drinks way more than we can even imagine. And he is not a little guy. He should be able to handle himself better, but he simply can not. He can’t walk. He can hardly stand without swaying. His eyes close. He licks his lips over and over again in the most offensive way and he makes absolutely NO SENSE. So like I said, there is never a question as to whether or not he was drunk. Now, picture if you will, someone whom I have just described, standing in front of you and telling you that they are in fact, NOT drunk. Can you even imagine how frustrating that is?

Again, I digress…

SO here comes drunk step dad with my mom not too far behind. JayHans and I see him coming from a mile away, so we are waiting for the brilliant statement that we are sure is coming. Even still, Step dad still thinks he has surprised us when he finally arrives. JayHans and I are just waiting for it to be over with, whatever it is. Step dad leans over and says:

“What are you two kids doing in…”

And then he passes out. Yes, he passes out mid sentence. I’ve never quite seen anything like it. And because he is not a small man, all that weight has nowhere to go but down. And unfortunately for all parties involved, down is into the hot tub. And there he goes…

This huge man sinks straight to the bottom. There is just no if, and’s or butt’s about it. He is at the bottom. We aren’t sure if he’s hit his head or if he’s had a stroke or what. And JayHans and I are obviously panicked and we are pulling at his clothes and trying to get our hands under him, but not only is he dead weight, he is wedged at the bottom of the spa. If you can picture a spa, imagine the part in the middle where all the feet are meant to go. It’s the smallest part in the spa. Now imagine a huge man, rolled into a ball, literally wedged down in that small space. And it’s dark outside and he is blocking the spa lights. This man doesn’t stand a chance.

But even still, Jay and I are pulling and trying to get our arms down into that space to pop him out, but to no avail. And then, as suddenly as he went out, he wakes up. Try waking up in a tub of hot water, I can only imagine how alarming that must have been. So of course when he wakes up, he nearly takes Jay and I out as he launches up out of the water. We are talking arms flaying, gasping for air, drunkenly trying to climb out. And if I wasn’t so relieved that I wasn’t going to have to live with the fact that I was in a spa with a dead man, I would have been pissed!

But don’t worry, my step dad ALWAYS gives me a reason to be pissed no matter what the circumstances.

He gets out of the spa and turns to Jay and I and says: “They were holding me down!”

What?! Are you kidding me? I laughed. I thought he was joking. He HAD to be joking…

Nope. He was quite serious.

He continued his tirade of how JayHans and I were holding him down and trying to kill him. And then he turns on my mom and accuses her of pushing him in. I mean, it’s not like we didn’t have the motive, but come on! We had just saved this guys life. He is impossible. And if his splash and our sceaming didn’t draw the attention of everyone in the neighborhood, his accusations sure did. He was practically ready to call the cops on us. I mean, this went on and on. All night long he stuck to his story and refused to admit that he even just fell, let alone passed out.

To this day, if you ask him about that story, he holds to the fact that my mom pushed him in and that Jay and I held him down. Now, of course, he will say that he knew it was just a joke, and we wern’t trying to kill him, but he won’t admit the truth. He will NEVER admit that ANYTHING is or was his fault and he certainly would never admit to being drunk that night. It still astounds me, even now.

The only consolation I got was in the morning, when I went out into the back yard, my step dad’s leather wallet was floating in the pool, completely ruined. And just the other night, my sister told me that she ran into a farmer in town that has worked with my step dad. Surprise, surprise, this man has a similar story about how my step dad tried to pin something on him that was actually in fact, my step dad’s fault. Somehow, in some small way, this makes me feel better. Small pleasures I guess, but that’s all I have when it comes to him.

Don’t tell my heart, my achey breaky heart

Alright guys, it’s time for cheat number two. 

If you’ll recall, my first love, JayHans, was not always the perfect example of a boyfriend. As they say: It was the best of times; It was the worst of times. That is the best way to describe that six year, on again, off more often relationship. It’s hard to say he ‘cheated’ on me because it was so hard to see the boundaries of our relationship. Here I go again, being a ‘circle’ and allowing myself to be taken advantage of, but still. It was never crystal clear when we were on and when we were off. We were kind of in a constant state of both. But at the same time, I do remember feeling betrayed, and isn’t that the worst part of being cheated on? The betrayal? The lying? I guess it’s hard to pick a ‘worst part’ of being cheated on. It all blows! 

Well then, if you have been reading along, you’ll remember the first person I said ‘I love you’ to- not to be confused with the first love- LemonBass. He cheated on me on our three month anniversary, which in high school was a very big deal. Of course he didn’t truly confess to the digression until more than a year later when we were already back together, reconciled and having just lost our virginity to one another. That is what I consider my first REAL cheat. My first cut, if you will. That one really introduced me to the frailness of relationships. When you’re young and in love, especially your first love, there is this feeling of invincibility. You’ve never been hurt so that is the furthest thing from your mind. First love is forever! Or so we think. I know I did. So this burn was definitely 3rd degree. And that was a low time for me. 

Well, after LemonBass and I finally split in my freshman year of college after three years, I was set free to a world of dating brand new assholes. There was a whole new world open to me at that point. I had been with LemonBass for so long, and JayHans before that, that this was really the first time I had been single as an adult. Well, anyone who is coming out of a long relationship, particularly one in high school, knows that these things never just really end abruptly. There is a long, long process of relapsing as I call it. It’s hard to avoid. We are so used to being in a relationship with that person that it just feels weird to not be. And at that age, it’s hard to figure out who you are when you’ve always been just half. Trust me, I know. Lemon and I played this game for a good two years after our break up. Sometimes the gap between fixes was longer than others, but we never actually got back together. It was always just a band-aid for the loneliness. 

Well, during this period of rehab, I dated a few guys. Of course I was so committed to not being tied down that I didn’t even really realize that I wanted to be. I tried to keep everything so casual, but women have a really hard time doing that. Women get attached. It’s this stupid thing we do, and I hate it as much as the guy hates it. But alas, I managed to get myself attached to some of these winners and I allowed myself to feel betrayed. Again, when you’re ‘keeping it casual’, you’re not really being cheated on, but it hurts all the same. 

So all the sudden, it’s the summer before my senior year of college and I have to move home to have my tonsils out. After years of constant strep throat, I finally found a compassionate doctor willing to do the deed. I was 20 years old, and apparently doctors try to avoid taking tonsils out past the age of like 6 so it was quite a challenge convincing them that I actually needed the ‘risky’ surgery. (Really? Risky? It’s tonsils). But that’s not the point. The point is, that I had been single- and casually dating in between relapses- for two years. 

When I moved home that summer, never in my wildest dreams would I have ever guessed that I would fall in love. Especially not with the winner who ended up stealing my heart. I was just pulling myself out of a HUGE depression and I had just closed the most life altering play I’d ever worked on (two separate blogs) and the last thing on my mind was love. 

Well, life is funny like that. 

I had the operation and as promised, a terribly long and painful recovery. Day one I threw up from the pain meds. Now imagine throwing up with holes in your throat. Okay don’t imagine that. Sorry. But anyway, it was gnarly, that I can promise you. I was down for about a month. The scabs ripped, I struggled with dehydration and I lost a bunch of weight- so not all bad. 

So this is the part that makes this story all the more tragic. It seemed even back in high school, that whenever a guy was interested in me, there would be two guys. It was never just one at a time. I always had to choose.  And I always seemed to choose wrong. Of course I didn’t realize that until afterwards, but the signs were all there. Well, this instance was no different. After two years of really no one special vying for my attention, all of the sudden there were two. 

Jankster. And HurtLocker. 

I met Jankster through my sister. He came first. You see, this was also the summer that my sister graduated high school, and at that time she was seeing a GORGEOUS boy named… let’s call him Arms. So she and Arms were spending a lot of time together and it was the first time that I was ever really attracted to someone my sister was dating. And I mean REALLY attracted to him. Well, I told D’Monk that she should introduce me to his friends and she mentioned that he had a brother. A TWIN brother. An IDENTICAL TWIN brother. Well, basically I was ready to plan the wedding when she mentioned that he had a girlfriend. DAMN! 

A few weeks later, at D’Monk’s graduation party (my family is kind of known for throwing epic parties) I may or may not have had a few too many drinks and so I wandered up to Arms and said exactly this: 

“Tell your brother that he needs a little less (Girlfriend’s name), and a little more MrsWaterCloset.” 

Apparently that was all it took. Jankster and I were officially seeing each other no more than two weeks later. And let me tell you, it was awesome. He was so amazingly attractive and my sister was dating his twin and we just thought that was the coolest thing ever. 

Jankster, MWC, D'Monk, Arms

can you tell the difference?

Well, also at that graduation party was my mother’s long time best friend. She has a son. Obviously Jankster was a few years younger than me, well her son was a few years older than me. 

A little back ground on HurtLocker: I had known OF him most of my life. When we were younger, he used to actually babysit me while our parents went out. But of course back then he was the fat kid. I wouldn’t have noticed him at all except for the fact that he was absolutely hilarious. Fast forward a bunch of years, I stopped needing a babysitter, and we were both in high school. I was a sophomore and he was a senior. I remember I saw him walking around campus and I could not believe my eyes. He had lost all the baby fat and he was a knock out. Drop dead gorgeous. Or at least I thought so. I would include a picture but I’ve burned them all. 

In high school, he had fourth period across the hall from me. He wasn’t much for school and he was SUPER confident (or cocky rather) and so he was always standing in the halls, yelling at people and what not when I would get to class. He always had a girlfriend but that never stopped him from flirting (or much more I guess). But he didn’t flirt with me. I would just quietly walk to class in awe by him. I never said a word, and he rarely said a word. I wasn’t on his radar. He didn’t remember me from when we were younger, or at least he pretended not to. 

Well, sometime that year his sister got married and of course we were invited because we were long time family friends. That wedding, for whatever reason, put me on his radar. His girlfriend was there of course, but he spent a lot of the time dancing and flirting with me. This should have been a HUGE red flag for me, but I ate it up. I was dancing with HurtLocker for crying out loud! Dream come true. For me, not for his girlfriend. She ended up leaving early, crying, and he had to go after her. RED FLAG? No way. He went after her. He must not have been all bad, right? 

Come Monday at school, everything was different. He noticed me. As soon as I walked into the building where our respective fourth periods were, he came right up to me and pinned me up against the wall. I don’t even remember what he said, it was the way he said it. I could just feel my face turning read and my mind going to mush. Oh man, was I just a fool in love! It sounds so ridiculous to me now but I can totally remember just melting at the sight of him. And looking back, he demonstrated everything I CAN’T STAND in men now, but at the time, I lived for that two minutes before fourth period. 

At the end of the year he graduated (well, not technically, but he left school anyway) and life went back to normal. I met LemonBass in my junior year and you all know what happens next. 

So now, fast forward to D’Monk’s high school graduation party and my Jankster. Years and years had passed since the last time I saw Hurt, but his reputation was never totally out of sight. Hurt was what you might call a player. He was KNOWN for cheating. He was KNOWN for being a flirt. He was KNOWN for his outrageously long list of women. I KNEW all of this! RED FLAG? No way, I was different. And when his mom suggested for the millionth time that I should go out with him, I played back and told her to have him call me. He was also ALWAYS in a relationship (and cheating on whoever it was) and so I was surprised when she told me that he was actually single. Still, not in a million years did I think that he would ever call me. 

Well, like I said, life is funny like that. 

Just when it seemed Jankster and I were going to really make something of ourselves, I get a call from my mom’s best friend. It was around 8pm on a week night and when I found out who was calling I told her that I would go get my mom. 

“No, I’m calling for you,” she said. 

“Oh… okay.” 

“I just gave Hurt your number. I hope that’s okay,” she said. And I’m not kidding, as she said it, the other line beeped in my ear. I nearly peed myself. I told her to hold on, and I answered the other line. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Him. I couldn’t believe it. After all this time, that crush that I had once had for him was not nearly as strong, but for whatever reason my heart was racing. And even though I had talked my fair share of shit about this particular individual, and was truly disgusted with all that I had heard about him, I didn’t hang up the phone. Instead I laughed and told him that his mom was on the other line and that I’d have to call him back. And even after my heart rate slowed and my head was back on straight, I called him back. He asked me out for lunch. I said yes. 

Why do we do this girls? 

Of course I didn’t tell Jankster that I was going out with Hurt. Honestly, I was so shocked by the whole thing that I didn’t know what to think about it exactly. Well, that first date was like no other date I had ever been on. I seriously felt like I was on an interview to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t really a conversation so much as he just asked me a series of questions. He made me laugh and to his surprise, I made him laugh. After I got over the weirdness of the date, I started calling him out on some of his shit. See, I was going to be different. I was determined to be different. I told him that I had rules. I told him that I thought he was a slut. I told him that I wouldn’t date him. I told him that I knew he asked me to lunch on purpose so he could either go back to work or try to sleep with me, depending on how I looked. He laughed. But when he didn’t go back to work and took me back to his place to take a ‘nap’, he was genuinely surprised when I reminded him of my rules and left. 

I thought for sure that that would be the end of my relationship with HurtLocker. If you didn’t put out, you didn’t hang out with Hurt. Well, that didn’t seem to be true for me. He called me later that night. And then the next day. And then the next. I was shocked. I wasn’t sleeping with him. We were actually doing things. He had a boat and it was summer so we spent a lot of time on the river with his friends. Maybe I was different. 

Never think that girls!!!!!! You are not different! You’re better than all this, but your no different than any of the other girls who have fallen for it. These guys know what they are doing. They’ve done it a million times. There is a reason the world MAN is in MANipulation! THEY WILL NOT CHANGE FOR YOU!!! 

Whew… sorry about that… 

Anyway, during this random relationship with Hurt, I was also seeing Jankster. I was much more honest with Jankster than I was with Hurt, mainly because I could trust Jankster. I cared about him. I didn’t want to hurt him. And more than anything, I KNEW that he cared about me more than Hurt ever would. But even still, it seemed that I would soon be faced with a choice. 

And then Hurt went and did something unforgivable. It was a low blow. Jankster knew it and I knew it. Hurt got a puppy. And to seal the deal he started calling me Mommy. I was puppy’s Mommy! I mean, that’s just not even fair. But all’s fair in love and war! 

That first night that I went over to see the puppy, my sister came with me, and for the first time Hurt really stepped it up and was acting like we were actually a couple. I just still couldn’t believe it. He knew I was only home for the summer. He knew my rules. He knew the deal, and still he wasn’t just moving on to the next girl. It was such a trip. Well, that night Hurt overheard me talking to my sister about Jankster and he asked me if I was seeing someone else. He just flat out asked me. I never thought that he would care if he found out, but he actually was really upset about it. And of course that led to the ‘what are we’ conversation, which led to me making the wrong decision. 

I broke it off with Jankster the next day. To this day, ladies, that is one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. Please learn from my mistakes. And if you’re not convinced that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to this stuff, read on. 

That next week Jankster left one long stem red rose on my porch, with a very witty hand written letter, basically asking me to reconsider. I didn’t reconsider. The next week, for the first and last time in my life thus far, a box of a dozen long stem red roses was delivered to my door with a note. The note simply quoted my favorite song in the entire world and was not signed. I looked and my sister and said: 

“You know what’s sad? I KNOW this is not from my boyfriend because he doesn’t know that my favorite flower is a long stem red rose and he doesn’t know my favorite song.” 

I KNEW it could not be from Hurt. It was from Jankster. I did not reconsider. I broke his heart. 

Hurt and I dated for about four months, until I moved back to San Diego. I know for a fact that he did not cheat on me the entire time I lived in town. Well, I guess I can never be sure, but I feel it in my heart even now. If he was not at work, I was with him. He was jealous and he made sure of that. I slept at his house every single night. He had lunch with me at every single lunch hour. And he came over in his work clothes to pick me up every single day. He went to the bars only twice while we were together and both times he was always reachable and he always came over to get me, even if it was 3am. I know he didn’t cheat on me in those first four months. 

And until I met my husband, you can ask D’Monk, Hurt was her favorite boyfriend of mine. He was hysterical. I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so much in my life. He was caring and kind. He had a boat and a puppy, which didn’t hurt, and I actually grew to trust him. Worst of all, I grew to love him. And I don’t love anyone half way. When I love, it’s serious. I lose myself in love. If there is one thing that I know how to do, it is love. And he was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love, even for a minute. 

When the time came for me to move, HE made the decision to stay together. I gave him the easiest way out possible. I left a note on his porch, explaining that I knew what I was getting myself into when I started the relationship and I knew it was only going to be for the summer. I told him that if he just didn’t call me, I would know it was over and we could both avoid that awkward sad break up. 

He called. 

Our relationship lasted only about two weeks into the move. Suddenly, he was unreachable. I could never get him on the phone. And of course, the rumors of another girl started to circulate. I drove home and we ended things for good. 

Well, nothing is ever really ended for good. We decided not to talk. We decided that that would be easiest, but of course come Halloween… I’m home, I’m 21 now and we see each other at the bar. It all starts over again. But this time it was totally different. Or so I thought. He swore up and down that he never cheated. He swore up and down that he wasn’t seeing anyone. And when my wonderful step dad got his second DUI, Hurt was there to support me and make me laugh again. All this said, I couldn’t help but notice that whenever I spent the night at his house- which was rare because he preferred my house all of the sudden- he made sure to lock the front door and his bedroom door. And he never seemed to answer the phone when we were together. I CHOSE to ignore those red flags. I saw them, plain as day, but chose to ignore them. 

When I went back to San Diego, he still called every night. Things were different. We made plans for Christmas and we saw each other over Thanksgiving. We didn’t necessarily have the conversation of ‘are we back together’ but I certainly wasn’t seeing anyone else this time. 

Christmas break. 

I had been back in town only a few days and although I had talked to Hurt, mysteriously, he was always busy when we were supposed to see each other. Again, I chose to ignore that feeling deep down in my gut that was telling me to throw up and run away. LISTEN TO THAT! It’s there for a reason. 

Christmas Eve. 

Lizzard and I are at the bar. I say ‘the’ bar because there are not many in town. All Hurt’s friends are out and I know it’s just a matter of time before he shows up and all will be right in the world again. Well, instead of Hurt, in walks his rumored girlfriend. She comes in with Hurt’s sister. To me, that’s not a good sign. Of course he has denied that he’s dating her, he has slept with me… he has lied. And I can see it immediately in her face. She knows who I am and she is not happy to see me. All this aside, Lizzard and I are determined to enjoy the night. We keep our distance. 

Around midnight, amongst all the people in the crowded room, I hear my name being shouted from across the bar. It’s her. She’s looking right at me and she is yelling my name. And then she says something that literally stops my heart. 

“We’re getting married in September.” 

She has a ring. 

All the air in the room gets sucked out. My ears go numb. I have that feeling in my stomach like I’m falling. I can feel the tears just fighting to get out. She’s still yelling at me. Details. He just asked her for Christmas. 

“Good for you,” I yell back and give her a thumbs up. I mean really? You obviously know I’m seeing him or you wouldn’t be acting this way. Do you think you really won something? Do you think you have something over my head? I get the bar tenders attention and I look over at Lizzard who is equally as shocked. I can see this look in her eyes like she is just waiting for me to fall over or something. And I’ll never forget what she said to me: 

“Are you okay? We don’t cry in bars.” 

So true. We definitely can’t cry in this bar. I nod at her and tell her that I’m just going to step outside for a minute. She asks to come with me and I tell her that I’m okay. I’m not. 

It’s raining outside. Of course. It helped disguise my tears though, so that was nice as I had to say hello to some people that were coming in. I go out in the parking lot and I literally crawl in between two cars and I call my sister. 

“He’s getting married,” is all I say to her. She is at another party and can hardly hear me, but there is no mistaking who I mean. She too asks if I need to be picked up. I say no. I’m fine. I’m not. 

I go back into the bar and proceed to get as drunk as I can get. I text message Hurt: “September weddings are beautiful” and that is the last thing I ever say to him. Even drunk I know better than to ever call him again. About a half an hour or so later, the wife-to-be approaches me directly and tries to fight me. She literally tries to punch me in the face. If you’ve read my last few blogs you know that as a circle, I am very un-confrontational. I have never in my life gotten in a fight and I certainly wasn’t going to do it that night. So I did what any girl would do; I cried and let my friends fight her for me. But before all that I did get to yell in her face: 

“Don’t worry. You can have him.” 

And somehow that made me feel better. Still does. She still has him though. They did end up getting married that September. Although I did hear that he was involved in a pool with the rest of his groomsmen as to how long the marriage would actually last. From what I understand, he didn’t think it would last that long. She got pregnant right away. They had a daughter. Now they have two. In a lot of ways I think they really are perfect for each other. She had the same reputation that he had. And that is one thing that Hurt would always say to me: “I hold you back.” He did. He knew it. I couldn’t see it. I love too well. Or too stupidly. A little of both I guess. 

So that is cheat number 2 guys. It wasn’t pretty. I was broken. Let me tell you, that was the most retarded Christmas I’ve ever had in my life. And to be honest… I didn’t learn a thing. I jumped right into cheat number 3. It was HE who actually shined the light on this whole mess. If you can imagine, cheat 3 is even worse. Stay tuned…

Well, life happens…

You’re right… I blew it! I totally left you hanging again on the Justin Timberlake story. I am really thinking that maybe it is not meant to be told! I just don’t know why I can’t get it onto paper/blog. So strange… But alas, I can’t finish it even now because I have something I need to vent about…

I welcome comments on this blog… I always welcome comments, but this blog really warrents comments, so please, apease me!

My step father… he is an alcoholic among other things. I know that that changes a person and I know that it is a disease and all that; my real father is an alcoholic… I know the drill. But I honestly don’t know if my step father is a good person under all the drinking. I don’t know if he has any real decency at all. I never felt this way about my dad, so it’s not just the alcohol. He is also a pathological liar, as I know alcoholics are. But I just wonder if he would be likable outside of the drinking…

Now, in another blog at another time, I will tell funny stories about him and about his drunken escapades, because believe me, there are many! And they are funny. But I really don’t want to go into too much background at this point, other than to say the following (you know I love bullet points):

-He has two DUI’s on his recent driving history and continues to drive daily drunk… not drunk… hammered! He has already had the breathalyzer installed in his car and taken out.

-He has been arrested from his children’s school for drunk in public.

-He has lost custody of his kids.

-He has been through AA several times

-He has been to rehab.

-He ‘quit’ his job one random day to start his own business right after they had sent him to rehab and he continued to drink upon return (i.e. he was fired).

-My mother is the second woman who is divorcing him due to the drinking…

-He claims he paid for my whole wedding to make me look bad. He did not.

-He claimed he paid for my entire surgery which I recently had to make me look bad($65,000). He did not pay a dime. He was actually kicked out of the hospital for showing up drunk.

-THEN he claimed he HAD the surgery I had. Of course, he did not. He is a liar. It’s unbelievable the extent to which he lies. But it’s even more unbelievable how much peopel believe him. Of course he would deny absolutely all of this if you asked him.

-And the worst part of all of this (and there is so much more, trust me), is that ALL of these things are my fault, or my mom’s fault, or his ex wives fault… it’s never been HIS problem or HIS fault. He doesn’t see how hiding vodka behind the tv, or in boxes in the garage, or in the tool box on his car, or in the shed, or in HIS KIDS ROOM is an issue. That’s perfectly normal I guess. Maybe I am the one who is crazy, because I am telling you, I’m beginning to feel that way.

Alcoholism is a serious problem. It’s a disease, like I said. But it’s a disease that there is a cure for. It’s a disease you choose over your family. It’s a disease that people recover from all the time. Don’t get me wrong… I know that it’s a struggle… probably the biggest struggle of a person’s life, but it’s a possibility. The option to stop is there every single drink. The help is there. The support is there. It’s all there.

But let’s not get off topic…

After almost 14 years (or something rediculous like that) of zero changes, my mother has FINALLY left my step father and now rents her own house across town. She left in September.

This past Sunday, my step father thought that it was a good plan to ‘stop by’ at 11pm. My younger sister lives here with my mom, and my mom takes Ambian every night. If you have never taken or seen someone take Ambian, think tranqulizer dart.

My step father knows she takes it. He has manipulated her on it in the past, and he knew exactly what he was doing when he showed up on Sunday.

My mother let him in. He stayed for 2 hours.

Is this inappropriate? My sister has made it MORE than clear that she does not feel comfortable around him. I have tried to get a restraining order against him. And this is nothing new. This is how we have always felt.

So I ask again, is it inappropriate that he came over and was let in?

Now, once here, of course my mother was nearly unconscious, he begins to verbaly abuse her as he has done for years while my sister sits in the same room not willing to leave him alone with our mother. He makes sexual comments to her. He tries to take her unconscious self to bed. He tells her how much she is ruining everyone’s life including his new girlfriends life and how  my sister and I are responsible for every problem in their marrage (of course it’s not his drinking). When my sister’s friend finally arrives to kick him out (on sister’s request), my step father tells him how my sister is the problem and she can not be trusted and on an on. And SHE should leave, not him, because he has every right to be there. Let me promise you that he is not on the lease. He pays nothing at the house. He has NO RIGHT to be there.

So for years now, I have been his main scape goat. You can ask his family (they will likely agree with him), you can ask our mutual friends, you can ask anyone. Why did their marrage fail? ME. That is always his answer. For years I have taken this with no one defending me. For years I have been the bad guy who only wants to defend her mother. For years I have suffered. I don’t mean to be dramatic at all, but I have suffered. SOOO many of my adult decisions have been based on protecting my mother. Moving home, when and where to get married, why I felt I needed to get married, what house we rent, where we might buy a house and how much room there will be for my mother, where my sister should go to college, trips home from college and on and on… all had to do with my mother. I always had my mother in mind and all the what ifs of her life with my step father… what if he dies from his liver failure or his Diabetes? What if he dies in a wreak (that is becoming more of a ‘when’)? What if he kills someone else and they sue? What if he doesn’t pay the house payment and they lose the house? What if he gets arrested again and goes to jail? What if he gets fired (that one happened)? What if he kills my mom? What if he shoots her and then shoots himself with all the guns he has in the house? What if he kills me (I actually slept in fear for a long time thinking this… to the point that I boobie trapped my door)? The list goes on and on. Is this fair?

So of course, now my mother and I are at odds because I don’t understand why no one is standing up for my sister and I? Why is this the way we have to live? Why do I always have to be the bad guy? How long do I have to be the one to blame? Why is it held against me for moving away? How on earth can it be said that I don’t care??????? I don’t understand. When does it end? Does it?

That is a lot of questions, I know… I don’t even really know what I’m even asking… I guess I am open to advice. I would love to know that I am not crazy. That I haven’t lived my life wrong. That I haven’t made all the wrong decisions because I make them with my family in mind. That I’m going to get my own life someday…

I don’t know where to go next…