He came over last night.
The reason I even started to think of making a blog showed up at my front door last night holding nothing. Not a bottle of wine, a spliff, a plate of takeout, nothing. He brought me nothing but still I smiled.
“I’m drunk…I need you…please don’t let me drive home, Let me in Jane.” The look in his eyes was begging, begging me to break, it had been months since I’d seen him and I had been doing so well that this grand emotional gesture was his reaction to recognizing that I was serious this time and there was NO WAY I was backing down.
I let him in. The minute I broke and stepped out of the doorway he mushed by me, the wind off him felt abnormally warm in the Middle of Winter. I missed him. The thing about being with, leaving and then missing an abusive megalomaniac is that it makes you wonder what is wrong with YOU. “What is fucking wrong with me?” I had to say it out loud to remind myself I was still there because when he’s around there are no separation of my mind and body from his.
Frustrated but cautious I walked into the room a few steps behind him. He grabbed me by my arm, my right arm. The same right arm he black and blued and damn near bit a hole in a few months back. I pulled away, I was afraid and he saw it. He backed away seemingly embarrassed and ashamed but I knew better….I knew who I was dealing with. This man standing before me had done this all before, I couldn’t trust myself around him because even though he broke parts of my heart that I doubt will ever be fixed again I wanted him back in there. It’s what I’m used to…chaos
That whole night he slurred around apologies and kept trying to make all types of daring sexual advances toward me. I was disgusted with myself by morning, I couldn’t let him touch me, I barricaded myself off to one side of my own bed because if I had shown one iota of weakness toward his sexual prowess it would have all been for nothing and I would’ve been right back where I started.
As soon as morning came I made up some strange but devastatingly important reason to have to leave…he had the nerve to ask if that meant he had to as well……..”Yes!!! Now GET OUT” He seemed slightly shocked but overall unphased. I sunk. I went to the bathroom and got into it with the bathroom mirror….”Get him out of here. He has to go. Don’t do this again. Please” After 15 minutes I had mustered up enough strength to do the job only to hear my front door slam shut.
He was gone. I felt proud. I had beat him.