#DVAM #SeeDV Our final night….. ....My mom had turned the phone off in the house so I could not talk to him. This was her way of trying to keep him away from me. I had just graduated and he was trying to talk me into moving in with him (at his mom’s house). I had talked to him earlier in the day from a pay phone and he was angry that I couldn’t call him from home and that my mom forbid me to drive “her” car to his house. He had been asking me to move in with him for months. I knew that if I moved in with him my mom would be angry too. He was giving me a guilt trip that I didn’t love him and that I could make my own decisions now. I gave in and agreed that I would move in with him. Several hours later I was back at home. I knew I had to tell my mom and step-father that I was going to move out and that would be a very difficult conversation. I finally spit it out sitting at the table. My mom was so upset she couldn’t talk to me. She stormed off to her room slamming the door. As she was going she said back to me “the next time I see you will be in the emergency room or the morgue!”. I was sitting at the kitchen table crying with my step-father. He cracked a joke to lighten the mood and I allowed myself to smile. Within minutes there was a loud knock at the front door. I instantly knew it was him. I told my step father that I was going out to talk to him. As I walked out the front door he yelled at me “I knew you were f@#$%ng him”. “What?” I replied confused. He repeated it adding that he saw us laughing at the table. “That’s ridiculous. He’s my step-father.” That’s when I realized he had been drinking and he did NOT drink. He walked out to the street. I followed. He was enraged and I started trying to calm him down. I pleaded, “ I just told them that I am moving in with you, I’m moving in tomorrow”, hoping that would calm him down. He kept ranting. He started walking up the street and went around the corner. It was dark. I followed him feeling that I had to resolve this fight. I tried to get him to stop walking at the same time I was afraid to keep following him. I finally turned around and walked back to my house but stayed outside. I knew in my heart that if I went back in the house without resolving his anger it was over. I couldn’t go in. After about 10 minutes He came back down the street. When he walked up to me he grabbed me by my arms so tightly that it instantly left bruises where his fingers were. He was asking me why I was doing this to him. I tried to reason with him but he would not listen to anything I said. He shoved me onto the street. I landed on my knees and hands. He continued to rant then pulled me up by my hair. He made threats. I tried to get away from him and moved to put the car between us. I told him if I went in the house there was no going back. He pushed me down again. He kept asking me “Why are you doing this to me?” I didn’t understand because all I was trying to do was make him happy. He wouldn’t calm down. I was so confused. I was afraid. I could hear my mom’s words ringing in my head “the next time I see you will be in the emergency room or in the morgue”. I was torn, part of me wanted to stay outside until he calmed down to make it better for him and part of me wanted to go inside for this turmoil to be over. He started walking back up the street. I plead with him to believe me. I cried for this all to stop. He stormed up to me. I could feel the anger and hate coming from him but I was trying to be brave still trying to decide what I should do. Knowing that living with him would not be any different than this. Finally, allowing myself to accept that my mom’s words were true. Deep inside I knew for a long time this relationship was dangerous. There was a turning point that night when I knew it was over, like a light switched on. I took a long breath and went into the house. It seemed like it was the hardest thing to do at the same time feeling a burden lift off of me. As I was walking into the house he was still yelling and making threats. When I walked in the door I broke into tears. I told my parents that it was over, but I was worried that he would do something destructive. He had taken a cab to my house that night so he had no way home. After about 10 minutes he was pacing back and forth in front of the house screaming. We decided to call the local police knowing they would come and get him a way home. When they arrived he told them that my parents would not let me come out and talk to him. They made me come out and tell him I didn’t want him here. While the police officers were trying to get in touch with someone to come pick him up he took a swing at my step-father and hit one of the cops. They took him to jail. From jail he started calling my house collect. I knew in my heart that if I stayed home he would show up and that he would kill me. The next morning I made arrangements to fly to my grandparents and quit my job. He found out where I was and tried to call me. I told him it was over and not to call me again. And when he did I refused to talk to him. I stayed there for 3 months until I felt it was safe to come home. It took years for me to not watch over my shoulder and not worry that he would one day show up for me. As I look back I am grateful for that day. The words my mother said are as clear today as the day she said them. The next time I see you will be in the emergency room or the morgue.
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 04:01:34 +0000
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