Maybe next year
Last night it took me almost 2 hours to go to sleep.
Everything running through my head. Mostly past.
I watched Sleeping With the Enemy again, with Julia Roberts. I've always liked how it ends and Shelby'd never seen it.
But it never fails. Every time I watch it, it brings back all the things I thought I was past. I always think that this time will be different and it won't haunt me, but it does. I'm using it as therapy every time I watch it, trying to get past the feelings a little more, little more.
I never had the visible bruises she had. But the scenarios were the same. I wish I'd had her courage, but I also had a child that would have made it harder to get away.
Besides, this house is mine...I shouldn't have had to leave. I don't know if he would have tried to find me. It wasn't that kind of story either.
But having to keep things a certain way, and not being able to disappoint him, not even a little...and always suspicious of everything I did.
I had no friends, he ran them all off. I was never allowed to do things with them. I didn't hear the end of it if I went off with my mother.
The clothes I wore had to meet his approval.
Dinners I fixed had to be exactly as he liked it. NO LEFTOVERS, ever.
The point in the movie where they come home from the college after playing in the dressing room and dancing, and they move to the stairs and are kissing, and then she suddenly stops him...she won't look him in the eye, she just asks him to leave and then sits on the stairs alone and cries.
I fight back my own tears every time.
I know that feeling.
After being with someone that hurt you that way, intimacy was disgusting...and considering it with someone else was hard...the visions, the feelings, they haunt. You think you're ready and WHAM.
They're not as fresh, the ghosts have kind of faded...but not gone completely.
I tried therapy right after he left. I went 3 times. It was free. But she made me feel worse. I didn't feel better. I felt better by making my own way, being independent, all the things he said I couldn't do. I ate what I wanted to how I wanted to, I ate leftovers, I bought new clothes. I took my life back.
I had people around me building me up, telling me that I wasn't fat, that I wasn't ugly, that I was a quick learner, I was smart, I was a good person and that I could make it on my own.
I was so proud of myself.
In the back of my mind I thought if I ever saw him again, I'd crumble. But the more I saw what I was capable of, and remembered all the horrible things he said and did to me...I felt so far above him.
And it finally happened.
8 months after the divorce, I was with Jamie, and we went out to our place where we met. We were sitting in the parking lot waiting for one of his friends when I saw "him". He was with another guy and they met up with two other girls...and the one he was with was much bigger than me, she wasn't pretty, and they were standing outside.
I knew this was it. I was going to have to either go around them and act like I was hiding from them, or go right between them, straight down the sidewalk and hold up my head.
And that's what I did.
Walked right between them, held my head up, tossed my hair as if to say, "Eat your heart out." and Jamie said it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen. He watched me walk by with wide eyes, staring in disbelief.
After we'd been inside for awhile, he walked in and kept watching me.
I hope he liked the view of the back of my head because I never once turned around and acknowledged him.
And that bothered him worse than anything I could have ever done.
To ignore the "great one". Are you kidding?
And everything I've done since has been a slap in the face to him.
Because the best revenge was living my life without any regard for him anymore.
I continue to do that.
Better all the time. He's not even a blip on my radar.
So, maybe next year I can watch it again...and the same feelings will come back, and remind me of how stupid I was to stay, but also remind me of how I strong I am.
The one thing he did leave me with is anger. I guess because I never really got to give as good as I got. I know what goes around comes around and maybe he's had the snot beat out of him. But it's affected my anger, my temper level.
It's short.
Short fuse.
Some pick on me and say it's the Yankee in me, and maybe it is partly. Growing up with Puerto Rican mafia will kinda leave its mark. LOL
I worry more about what I will do.
Evident when we went to the parade and I was going to climb the animal cage to get to the nasty bitch on top.
Jamie kept a hold of my arm, it was red when he finally let go.
Him and the inability to make bail kept me from doing it...but all I saw was red.
It scared me afterwards.
I'd never been that angry, not in a very long time.
And I don't think I'd have any remorse, no guilt.
That bothers me.
BUT - I have friends now. I have a wonderful life. And he will never be able to take any of it away.
Everything running through my head. Mostly past.
I watched Sleeping With the Enemy again, with Julia Roberts. I've always liked how it ends and Shelby'd never seen it.
But it never fails. Every time I watch it, it brings back all the things I thought I was past. I always think that this time will be different and it won't haunt me, but it does. I'm using it as therapy every time I watch it, trying to get past the feelings a little more, little more.
I never had the visible bruises she had. But the scenarios were the same. I wish I'd had her courage, but I also had a child that would have made it harder to get away.
Besides, this house is mine...I shouldn't have had to leave. I don't know if he would have tried to find me. It wasn't that kind of story either.
But having to keep things a certain way, and not being able to disappoint him, not even a little...and always suspicious of everything I did.
I had no friends, he ran them all off. I was never allowed to do things with them. I didn't hear the end of it if I went off with my mother.
The clothes I wore had to meet his approval.
Dinners I fixed had to be exactly as he liked it. NO LEFTOVERS, ever.
The point in the movie where they come home from the college after playing in the dressing room and dancing, and they move to the stairs and are kissing, and then she suddenly stops him...she won't look him in the eye, she just asks him to leave and then sits on the stairs alone and cries.
I fight back my own tears every time.
I know that feeling.
After being with someone that hurt you that way, intimacy was disgusting...and considering it with someone else was hard...the visions, the feelings, they haunt. You think you're ready and WHAM.
They're not as fresh, the ghosts have kind of faded...but not gone completely.
I tried therapy right after he left. I went 3 times. It was free. But she made me feel worse. I didn't feel better. I felt better by making my own way, being independent, all the things he said I couldn't do. I ate what I wanted to how I wanted to, I ate leftovers, I bought new clothes. I took my life back.
I had people around me building me up, telling me that I wasn't fat, that I wasn't ugly, that I was a quick learner, I was smart, I was a good person and that I could make it on my own.
I was so proud of myself.
In the back of my mind I thought if I ever saw him again, I'd crumble. But the more I saw what I was capable of, and remembered all the horrible things he said and did to me...I felt so far above him.
And it finally happened.
8 months after the divorce, I was with Jamie, and we went out to our place where we met. We were sitting in the parking lot waiting for one of his friends when I saw "him". He was with another guy and they met up with two other girls...and the one he was with was much bigger than me, she wasn't pretty, and they were standing outside.
I knew this was it. I was going to have to either go around them and act like I was hiding from them, or go right between them, straight down the sidewalk and hold up my head.
And that's what I did.
Walked right between them, held my head up, tossed my hair as if to say, "Eat your heart out." and Jamie said it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen. He watched me walk by with wide eyes, staring in disbelief.
After we'd been inside for awhile, he walked in and kept watching me.
I hope he liked the view of the back of my head because I never once turned around and acknowledged him.
And that bothered him worse than anything I could have ever done.
To ignore the "great one". Are you kidding?
And everything I've done since has been a slap in the face to him.
Because the best revenge was living my life without any regard for him anymore.
I continue to do that.
Better all the time. He's not even a blip on my radar.
So, maybe next year I can watch it again...and the same feelings will come back, and remind me of how stupid I was to stay, but also remind me of how I strong I am.
The one thing he did leave me with is anger. I guess because I never really got to give as good as I got. I know what goes around comes around and maybe he's had the snot beat out of him. But it's affected my anger, my temper level.
It's short.
Short fuse.
Some pick on me and say it's the Yankee in me, and maybe it is partly. Growing up with Puerto Rican mafia will kinda leave its mark. LOL
I worry more about what I will do.
Evident when we went to the parade and I was going to climb the animal cage to get to the nasty bitch on top.
Jamie kept a hold of my arm, it was red when he finally let go.
Him and the inability to make bail kept me from doing it...but all I saw was red.
It scared me afterwards.
I'd never been that angry, not in a very long time.
And I don't think I'd have any remorse, no guilt.
That bothers me.
BUT - I have friends now. I have a wonderful life. And he will never be able to take any of it away.