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Archive for the ‘The EX Files’ Category

That my life sucks with you~

But it sucks so much more without you~

That I miss you~

That I have to stop myself…from calling, reaching out~

Thinking of you…always, constantly, MAKE.IT.STOP~

 

 

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She began to think she should postpone their wedding. Her fiancé seemed incapable of being apart from her….they dated long distance, so she had not realized the extent of his clinginess until they moved in together.

If she wanted some “alone time,” he would immedietely get offended. If she didn’t stand or sit next to him or cuddle with him, he claimed she didn’t like him. If she ate lunch with a friend instead of him as she was prone to do daily he would become upset. Even when they spent time with her family, there were repercussions, usually it would be moping and drama when they got home.

His parents divorced when he was 11, and neither wanted much to do with him or his brother. Initially, she found his behavior sweet . Flattered that he was always willing to go with her anywhere, even shopping at a mall, none of her friends could boast the same from their men.  Soon she began to think he might be a little too afraid of her going alone…perhaps fearing for her safety, more reason to be flattered-was what she tried to convince herself with.

She began to feel a pang of unease, she felt suffocated, making her trips to even get a box of maxi pads such an ordeal…her new ball and chain couldn’t even stay behind while she drove down the street for a couple of items, she tried getting him to go pick up these things for her, but would then insist she go with him as he would enjoy her company.

For him and his unresolved issues, every day began to feel like what she had gone through with her kids the first few days of school, the clinging, the crying, the desperation and fear at being left behind and the fear that mom wouldn’t show up at the end of the school day.

It was one thing to give birth to a clingy child, but she didn’t think she could marry one. She knew she had choices to make, live with constant conflict or avoid seeing family or friends or doing anything that would trigger his abondonement issues. At this point her even going to the bathroom would agitate him, he would even ask her to leave the door open so he could still see her and hear her. She was afraid that this was beginning to feel normal and like complete adoration from her beloved.

She began to see herself behind a locked and padded door attached forever more to him, what in an instant could feel like such devotion would in the next instant feel like a lifetime term behind prison walls. Not to mention the constant need to call her at work, text her throughout the day and email her every few hours, if she didn’t reply to his calls, texts or emails he would find a way to drop by or he would then begin to call her friends or coworkers to make sure she was okay.

This crazy train was out of control and she needed off….

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He made her feel like she wasn’t worth anything as her tears fell at his feet, she looked in the mirror and couldn’t see herself anymore, she only saw what he wanted her to be…and she was only what he wanted to see….from denying her for not accepting to do as he wanted. She had to accept his terms or be fucked, figuratively not literally.

So she let her hair down, made her face up, put on her heels, her prettiest dress and walked on out. she did what few will dare to do, some look at her with envy and others not so much….in the end it doesn’t matter… she will walk toward the door, walk out, face the night, whether it is dark or lit by a million stars and the world will be hers once again. She is at peace with finding herself.

The one thought she has come to find comfort in is that she is only herself when she is alone. She doesn’t have to give herself and who she is, who she can be for anyone that can’t accept her for her. No more insecure, immature and jealous anyone’s to hold her back and hold her down.

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To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

She was home alone with her kids, she had 3 and they were like stair steps, ages 2, 3, & 4, it had all happened so fast, one day she was relishing the carefree romance and new relationship headed towards marriage. The next thing she knew she was a tired married mother of 3, where did the time go? She no longer had the time for herself, her days were spent cleaning up after kids, changing diapers, potty training, teaching them the abc’s and how to count and making sure the house was spotless and dinner was on the table for when HE got home.

Everything had to be perfect, the kids had to be perfect, they had to be clean, and they had to be quiet when he got home. He barely spent any time with them when he got home, he preferred to sit in front of the TV where he could have a couple of drinks while she got the table set, got the kids fed and served him his dinner. After dinner he would return to watch TV while she cleaned up the kitchen, bathed the kids, and put them to bed.

He loved her so much that he couldn’t wait to ravage her, nightly. He sometimes couldn’t contain his desire for her, he would insist the kids cry themselves to sleep without her, but she needed to take her place in their bed, he had his needs, he needed her too. He needed her badly; he would take her over and over and over, every night. She would protest that she was tired and she knew better, after all as he was fond of reminding her, she didn’t have a job. He was the one that had a job, he took care of all of them, she had the whole day off at home with the kids. Staying at home was not a job.

The panties. That was a big mistake on her part, her birthday had just passed and her sister had given her panties and bras and a couple of blouses. She forgot to tell him about the gift and she was wearing a new pair of panties, of course he had never seen them. He began ranting at her about them, who was she wearing them for, why was she wearing them, who gave them to her, then he hit her, and he took her, over and over and over again. He hadn’t let her get a word in edgewise, he was outside of himself, he was letting her know she was a dirty slut, a tramp, a whore and if she wanted to get fucked with her sexy little panties he would fuck her, over and over and over again.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

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Family, everyone has family, some-  you may not want to be around and others you love dearly. She had always been close to a few members of her family, she had been roommates with a couple of family members and during the years they roomed together they also took many road trips. They were not about to give up those trips and the good times they shared when they packed as if they would be leaving for a month. Their trips were mainly weekend getaways but they wanted to make sure they had an outfit for any occasion or event that might come up. Usually they would sight see, visit family, explore little towns, go on shopping trips and made plans to dine at five star restaurants.

She invited him to join them every time they made plans to get together, her and her aunt, he always declined and wished them well. She made sure she called and let him know they had arrived safely, during these getaways he would always become chatty when she called him, he would try to talk to her for hours as if he missed her terribly. She knew that wasn’t the case, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t out of her hotel room.

When she would return from these trips he would wear her down about her not calling and being considerate. He would berate her for going out to clubs or restaurants and even shopping. He couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay in the room by the phone waiting for his call. He accused her of stepping out on him, accused her aunt of setting her up on dates and wanting to separate them. The arguments were endless and always escalated into yelling matches.

Hours after all the yelling would wear her down and she broke down in tears he would come and sit next to her and tell her he just loved her too much. The thought of her with someone else drove him mad with jealousy. She would point out that her son and her aunt were with her and they were too busy to be meeting up with anyone. He then pointed out that her aunt was her ally and surely was the one responsible for their troubles and was plotting to separate them.

Eventually these weekend getaways would come to a halt. He had succeeded in alienating her from her friends and now he was working on her family. She would be his and only his.

To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

Read Full Post »

To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

The phone, the goddamn phone, she used to love having hours long conversations with her friends and family.

make it stop ringing~

He would come home from work and pick up the phone and hit redial, at first she wasn’t sure what he was doing. A few days later her aunt casually mentioned that he kept repeatedly calling her home number and then make up some ridiculous story about meaning to call someone else but hadn’t realized she had used the phone. He was back to checking up on her, but she wasn’t going to argue with him, she began the habit of dialing her own number after she was done using the phone, this way when he picked it up and hit redial he wouldn’t embarrass her by calling her family “accidently”.

He was also incessant about the conversations that would happen within earshot, he would ask her questions about those conversations, and then he would question why she had made a certain remark. She had to replay both sides of the conversation to his satisfaction. Soon she asked all her friends to not call her if he was home, it was ridiculous to have to give out his schedule, but it became tiring to have to replay every conversation.

One day the phone rang and she picked it up, she asked the caller to hold, she went over to him and handed him the phone and walked away to continue her chores. He returned minutes later, a look of confusion on his stupid face. He asked her why she handed him the phone when the call clearly was for her, it was her aunt. She let him know she no longer was going to replay all her conversations, she was tired of that nonsense, and every phone call she ended began an inquisition. From now on he could take all her calls and let her know if there was anything of importance for her.

Sadly many of her friends stopped calling, stopped coming around, he had a way of making everyone that was close to her feel very uncomfortable.

He had accomplished what he set out to do, he had managed to isolate her even more

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes being held somewhere in some secret location.**

Read Full Post »

To read the complete series go to “CATEGORIES” on the right side and click on “THE WRITE STUFF”.

Never make someone a priority in your life, if you're only an option in theirs

She dedicated herself to loving him, doing for him, making life easy for him. She was in a better place financially, she had her own place, it wasn’t much but she invited him to move in. He had his own place but they had both decided hers was a better fit for the both of them. They began to sort out their finances, she insisted she would continue to take care of all the expenses as she had done before he moved in. She wanted him to take this time to pay down his debt and he still had his other expenses, his car payment, his credit cards and his loans. She didn’t ask him to contribute much, at first he made an effort, but then he lost his job and took his time before securing a new job. She offered her support, she tried cheering him up, suggesting an evening out,where he didn’t have to worry about the expenses. He began to take advantage of her generosity by inviting others to join them and insisting on picking up the tab. On these occasions she would slip him her credit card to save him any embarrassment. He promised that one day he would repay her. She wasn’t worried about it, she was in love, he was her priority, he was her main concern. She wanted to see him happy.

Over time he began to  use her card more frequently, to fill his car with gas, to buy drinks for his friends and he still had not found a new job. She began to see the charges on her monthly statements and worried about how she would be able to cover the expenses. She was nervous about bringing it up in conversation but she braced herself for it. She fixed all his favorites, served him his favorite wine and as they sat down to eat she decided she would just delve into the subject head on. He became angry and accused her of playing him and accusing her of being insensitive and then moved on to guilting her about his moving in with her.

He was good at manipulations and had her feeling bad for his situation, somehow he had managed to convince her it was all her fault. His old debts, his new ones, his job loss, the fact that he had given up his own place to move in with her.

It took introspection for her to realize she had become his option, she was never his priority. She was good enough to be around when she could take care of the expenses, when she was willing to allow him the use of her credit card, when she was willing to pick up the tab for him and his friends.

To add insult to injury many of the outings on her dime did not include her. When she was included she was practically ignored, the only time he would bother with her was when he would side up next to her and ask her for another $20. The time came when she realized it was time to say goodbye, she left that evening, he never even bothered to ask her how she had gotten home.

Years would go by before she was able to admit to herself that she had lived through abuse. The insults, the verbal abuse, the emotional abuse, financial abuse, the total disregard for her as someone who had put him up on a pedestal, while he so readily made her an option in his life.

Disclaimer**Given the nature of the books I have been reading lately I am inspired to write a few short stories revisiting parts of my life that included episodes of domestic violence….I will be calling this series “The Ex Files” very clever right….lol….I thought so….it will be an amalgamation of my personal experiences steeped with those of others that I was very close to. The parallels are uncanny in some instances….but the patterns of abusers and abusees are almost always the same…it’s like the same behaviors are either taught to the next generation or there are some secret classes

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