Saturday I picked up the last of my stuff from the ex-boyfriend's house. I've been working such long hours lately that was my first real chance. Having that hanging over my head was just a horrible, icky feeling. It would be like walking back into an evening frozen in time.
My last day at his house had included YET ANOTHER afternoon of hell out on the water off Sanibel with him blackout drunk and abusive. I told myself "not even ONE more night of this." I packed it up, I didn't even care what I left - I grabbed my dogs and went home.
His year-round home is 1400 miles away. If I want a part-time relationship with an abusive alcoholic, I'm sure I could find someone who's local.
I packed it up. I didn't even care much what I left, I grabbed my dogs and got outta there.
Well, retrieving what's left has been hanging over my head for more than a month.
You can feel the "shots" in what they pack and how they pack it. He dropped it all at the front door. Some of the stuff wasn't even mine (a pretty t-shirt of his daughter's which I couldn't have pulled over one boob let alone two) ... stuff from the fridge (like fresh ... well it WAS fresh ... horseradish) and Newman's popcorn with extra fiber. A box of All-Bran, egg noodles. Does this imply he thinks I'm full of ...?
Some of this leftover stuff was second-hand from my nurse friend who came down with her doctor husband to visit a few months back. They stayed in a lovely condo and she handed me bags of leftovers the night before I took her to the airport. We are both packrat hoarders who despise waste.
She had everything labeled and dated in tidy little zip-locks ... noodles, maplenut candies, probably seven bucks worth of stale leftovers if you were forced to replace them and buy new. Nobody would ever make you do that.
Bad Randy had bagged it and left it all in heaps by the front door.
Oh, and ANYTHING related to the dogs ... except for the spots on the carpet.
He also left the Christmas gift he gave me - a short, poofy thermal robe made of mega-thick fleece that made me look like a gay grizzly. Inappropriate for my fat ass and wholly inappropriate for the subtropics.
While I think he paid full price, I bought identical robes for my mother and daughter-in-law for Christmas for $10/apiece at Bell's outlet. Maybe they hate me now for the Michelin Man effect ... except that it's still cold where they live.
I texted Bad Randy that I had just got around to getting my stuff - the house was fine, nothing important in the mailbox ... I couldn't remember which locks to lock (he has so many) and he texted back. He sounds very sad and very angry. We are not capable of speech, only texting.
He sent a photo of his new Shih Tzu ... he didn't waste any time finding another dog. A 6 year old rescue he got after getting back to Michigan.
The new dog actually hurt worse than anything. Of course we will be systematically replaced.
He loves our (MY) Shih Tzu, gave her sweetened antibiotics by mouth back when she was tiny and fragile and we weren't sure she'd survive.
I couldn't even bring the girls with me to pick up my stuff, I knew I'd cry because they'd be so happy to see the house ... thinking he was there. And he's not.
My last day at his house had included YET ANOTHER afternoon of hell out on the water off Sanibel with him blackout drunk and abusive. I told myself "not even ONE more night of this." I packed it up, I didn't even care what I left - I grabbed my dogs and went home.
His year-round home is 1400 miles away. If I want a part-time relationship with an abusive alcoholic, I'm sure I could find someone who's local.
I packed it up. I didn't even care much what I left, I grabbed my dogs and got outta there.
Well, retrieving what's left has been hanging over my head for more than a month.
You can feel the "shots" in what they pack and how they pack it. He dropped it all at the front door. Some of the stuff wasn't even mine (a pretty t-shirt of his daughter's which I couldn't have pulled over one boob let alone two) ... stuff from the fridge (like fresh ... well it WAS fresh ... horseradish) and Newman's popcorn with extra fiber. A box of All-Bran, egg noodles. Does this imply he thinks I'm full of ...?
Some of this leftover stuff was second-hand from my nurse friend who came down with her doctor husband to visit a few months back. They stayed in a lovely condo and she handed me bags of leftovers the night before I took her to the airport. We are both packrat hoarders who despise waste.
She had everything labeled and dated in tidy little zip-locks ... noodles, maplenut candies, probably seven bucks worth of stale leftovers if you were forced to replace them and buy new. Nobody would ever make you do that.
Bad Randy had bagged it and left it all in heaps by the front door.
Oh, and ANYTHING related to the dogs ... except for the spots on the carpet.
He also left the Christmas gift he gave me - a short, poofy thermal robe made of mega-thick fleece that made me look like a gay grizzly. Inappropriate for my fat ass and wholly inappropriate for the subtropics.
While I think he paid full price, I bought identical robes for my mother and daughter-in-law for Christmas for $10/apiece at Bell's outlet. Maybe they hate me now for the Michelin Man effect ... except that it's still cold where they live.
I texted Bad Randy that I had just got around to getting my stuff - the house was fine, nothing important in the mailbox ... I couldn't remember which locks to lock (he has so many) and he texted back. He sounds very sad and very angry. We are not capable of speech, only texting.
He sent a photo of his new Shih Tzu ... he didn't waste any time finding another dog. A 6 year old rescue he got after getting back to Michigan.
The new dog actually hurt worse than anything. Of course we will be systematically replaced.
He loves our (MY) Shih Tzu, gave her sweetened antibiotics by mouth back when she was tiny and fragile and we weren't sure she'd survive.
I couldn't even bring the girls with me to pick up my stuff, I knew I'd cry because they'd be so happy to see the house ... thinking he was there. And he's not.
My Shih Tzu used to sleep snug as a bug on the bulging curve of his beer belly/inflamed liver as he leaned back in the LaZ-Boy flicking through four channels at once.
So aside from getting my SMALLER AND INFINITELY MORE PORTABLE KAYAK back, I'm grumpy. He didn't intend for me to take that. It was in the shed and there are black snakes around back and nobody has been out there for more than a month. I thought "Lord knows what's gonna be in it when I pull it out" ... nothing.
Managed to get it into the Uranus (what my friend Jim calls my Saturn) with the back seats folded forward, stole an old bungie to secure it and I was off.
Driving back my trunk lid kept banging on the kayak and then came a horrid buzzing in the passenger seat. Where I had dumped all the bags.
Then I realized he'd gone through our "stash" and packed my vibrator too. I had mixed feelings about that. Well, it was fairly expensive and it has been a very long time. If you want to talk GOOD sex, you're talking years.
Now I'm only happy when I'm watching girly movies with my bitches or eating chocolate or out at Bunche Beach kayaking like I did for a few hours yesterday.
Or just riding my bike out there for a sunset like I did last night. Apparently I am 12 again.
There are much worse things than being alone. The worst is being in an abusive relationship. There is no greater loneliness.
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