The story of the high speed chase

He had been missing, gone, for at least a week this time. He wouldn't answer the phone. Wouldn't text back. Not even an "I'm ok". The timeline of our marriage in my head is so blurred I don't even know what month this was. I'm pretty sure it was after tax season though, so possibly May of 2005. But those are just minor details.

I took the day off of work to stay home and attempt at focusing enough that I could study for the part of the CPA exam I had coming up. I was sitting at the dining room table. We had a bay window & the house sat up on a hill so I could easily see down to the culdesac. I remember the sound of the garage door opening and I looked out the window and there was his truck. That damn truck I had to pay the note on because it was in my name.

However, he wasn't expecting to see my car when he opened the garage door - he thought I'd be gone to work. I ran out the door and they were backing out of the driveway & closing the garage door. The girl he had been sleeping with. I had never seen her face. AND she was driving! Driving THE CAR I PAID FOR. I saw red.

If you can imagine, you see your husband, who you haven't seen or heard of in over a week, finally show up. Then he tries to run away. I flew down to my car as fast as I could. I don't even think I put shoes on. I flew down my driveway, it bottomed out at the pavement, and I started chasing them. Out of the neighborhood, down the street and up to the on ramp of the interstate. I'm honking the whole time. We get on the interstate, and I pull up next to them, and I see her. Why her? What is she doing that I'm not? What is so wrong with me?

I'm yelling PULL OVER! PULL OVER NOW! They're both flicking me off and I see him laughing. We get up to almost 100 mph on I-24. She's mouthing "CRAZY BITCH" at me. Who knows what lies he told her about me. But she was right, I was crazy. It makes you CRAZY. Do things you would normally never do.

After a few miles I just let them go. What was I going to do? Wreck us? I went back home. Cried. Yelled. Screamed. I felt crazy insane and completely alone and helpless. I don't remember when he came back after that. 

But apparently I forgave him and believed his "I'm sorry"'s, because this story continued on for at least another year. That's one of the things about domestic, emotional, psychological abuse. It's a cycle. A vicious cycle. And so so hard to get off the merry go round. 

The story of the 1 year anniversary

As I stated in one of the earlier posts, our mind has a way of protecting us from painful memories. Just blocked. I know that within 6 months I was already staying at my parents house, which luckily was only about 3 miles away. But for some reason, I took him back and we tried to move forward.

It never crosses your mind to ask the person who is driving, if not you, if they have a legal drivers license. I mean, you'd just ASSUME if they're an adult driving a car, they are legally allowed to do so. Well, I didn't ask Bart when we were dating if his was legal. Much less ask how many DUIs were on his record. He never even had a car while we were dating. He just always had a ride. I did end up signing for him a very nice black SUV. But, that's for another story.

Anyway, back to this story. Bart was in jail during the last few months of our first year of marriage. Apparently he got pulled over driving a friend's car while drunk. Apparently he had a very long list before I met him - mostly DUIs. After several weeks in a way-too-nice-and-expensive-for-me home all alone I picked him up on the day he was released...our one year anniversary. I was SO EXCITED. Y'all. I was under his spell. I was EXCITED - to pick up my husband for our anniversary from JAIL. I should've been so pissed that I let his ass walk home from the jail that day.

But, I didn't. Instead, a friend loaned him money for us to have an anniversary dinner. We had like, NO MONEY. I was the only employed one. Y'all know where we went...THE PALM. Ha! We looked so good too. I remember sitting there feeling so special. My husband took ME to THE PALM for dinner the day he got out of jail! I'm sure he would've rather gone out with friends or just sleep in the bed, but he humbled himself to borrow money from a friend so he could TAKE me to dinner... (it really makes me gag now)

That's what the emotional abuse does. I mean, it takes away so much of your self worth! My worth depended on whether or not he WANTED to sit by me on the couch at night instead of sitting on the back deck, in the same clothes he slept in the night before, drinking Captain and Coke, on the phone smoking cigarettes.

I didn't feel like a domestic violence victim. That was the women whose husbands punched them every day. We'd make it days that he wouldn't abuse me in any way! It was fiiiiiine. I could make him better. Nicer. Get a job. If I love him harder, he'll love me more. "He was just tired today." "Just hungover today." "Just stressed today." I can change him.

Even another big slap on the face like this one, wasn't a big enough, flashy enough sign for me. I still went back. And HOPED he'd CHOOSE ME.

The story of the missing newlywed

If you knew my ex-husband in real life, you'd understand that "to know him is to love him". He had one of those personalities that just draws people in. He's funny, charismatic, life of the party, and knows how to make everyone feel at ease. As you've read in previous posts though, that's not the same behind closed doors.

For our honeymoon we took a cruise to Mexico. I was 23, about to turn 24. Very young! We were ready to have a good time -  drink, lay out by the pool and party. We made some friends, as he always easily did, with a group of guys that were on a guys trip I suppose. I mainly remember just hanging out at the pool with them.

One of the nights we went to their cabin to pre-party. We had dinner as normal then went on to the clubs they had on the cruise ship. Next thing I know, I wake up in our cabin and he's gone. I yelled his name, no answer. Not in the bathroom. No where. It was like 3am I'd say.

I got out of our cabin and went up to the deck where the pool and hot tub were to see if he was up there or possibly passed out on one of the lounge chairs. Nope. I remember stumbling around yelling his name. I was so afraid he had gotten drunk and fallen off the side of the boat. Terrified. I probably walked that ship for over an hour.

I don't remember what time he came back to the room, but he refused to tell me where he had been - "just hanging out" - is what he said. I never did find out where he had been. Yeah, he could've just passed out in the guys' room, or he could've been in another girls' room. Who knows.

All I know is that my new husband didn't come "home" during our first week of marriage, and I was just supposed to accept that. That was the first of many nights I would spend alone, wondering where he was and who he was with.