{my advance apologies for the spelling errors. written on a Mac late at night)
I ran into the exhusband ("C") on Friday night. It was a traumatic though slightly cathartic experience. J, some friends, and I were at a long-time haunt of mine, The Local, a bar that holds many late-night Atlanta memories for me. It was actually here where I met C for our first kinda-sorta date in August 2002. And in fact, I was sitting a few stools down from where we had our first conversation years before and was happy to note that I no longer felt C's lingering and stinging ghost of a memory screwing with an otherwise good time.
I am sure the shock was apparent on my face when he when he walked up to me only moments after experiencing that mental relief. Shock, not necessarily surprise. I figured that eventually I'd see him around town. Atlanta, unfortunately, is not big enough to keep us from running into each other. He was suddenly in front of me - I had not seen him enter, something I think I am grateful for - and asked how I was doing. I replied, "I am doing really well, actually!", or so J recalled to me the next day. In all honesty, I only remember bits and pieces of what followed. Possibly because I had been drinking, but I think mostly because I was in full 'Fight or Flight' mode - or more likely switching between the two violently.
Just as I snapped out of the initial shock, I looked up and saw that he was taking advantage of those few frozen mements and was already walking away. Indignant that I should have a moment to do or say something with the preparation he had by seeing me first, I leaned forward quickly and tapped him vigorously on the shoulder. "This is my fiance, J." I stated for the record and tried to use my left hand so he would have to see the lovely and respectfully large engagement ring. C stuck out his hand to J, who unfortunately had not yet put everything together and so I'm sure looked a bit bewildered.
But J, having guessed that this was some sort of ex of mine and having grown up to always be quick to react and assume people are a threat , made sure to squeeze back harder to C's firm grip. Normally I don't really like J's natural instinct to treat strangers, especially men, as enemies until proven as friends, but I was glad for it on that night. It pleased me because in some old-fashioned way it felt good to know that my current man could kick my ex's butt, but also because I knew J got a small amount of revenge out on the man who left me so wounded - this man who made falling in love with J such a pain-staking process because of the damage C had done to my heart and soul.
Then C walked off again and I sat there shaking. So many emotions came up - a measure of fear, bits of sadness and a load of ANGER. He just fucked with my newly-sewn (and still very fragile) seeds of being free of him! I had to get out of there. But not before I told him that I knew about his dirty little secret. Because of some bad experinces with my last blog I won't say what it was here - at least not directly: if you knew C, you probably thought some of his fashion choices were off base and assumed he was not suited to marry me. You (and I, I'd like to point out) were right. However, it's my impression that he is still living a lie. As for why he would marry me - I believe it had something to do with money he expected to receive from his parents based on the fact that his older sister got $30k as a wedding gift. That, and for a minute there I was a damned good "enabler." Any alcoholic with a lick of sense will do anything to keep one of those around, including marriage.
As I exited the bar I also passed this information along to a female friend he was with. (I don't know if they were there "together" - I don't think so, but she was upset to hear the news). J and I left our friends behind and got into his car. I was livid and frantic to get a handle on what had just taken place. After screaming some choice words and J tending to me as best as he could, I called one of my friends we had left in the bar. Apparently one of C's friends had come up to ask why I was saying such things and did I have any proof (I do.) - and to find out why they were automatically taking my side on the matter. My friend's cleverly responded with, "Isn't that what you're doing for him??" J and I were still in the bar's parking lot and I announced I was going back in.
Maybe I wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe I was drunk. Or maybe just I realized that I had an opportunity to tell him what had been on my heart and mind for 2 years. At the very least I knew that I had laid down for him too many times and this time I was going to kick and scream before I just went away. Also, if I didn't do something that night, he might show up there again - and although I know it's not MY bar, I couldn't risk the old ghost coming back to haunt me. On fire, I flew back in there. I'm pretty sure my feet didn't touch the ground between the car and C's group of friends. Everyone's chests flared up, ready for the confrontation. J was ready to put C on the ground, which, again, I can't really blame him for, but luckily a guy we know held J back and reminded him that this was for ME. C's friend, one I knew from before, tried to calm me down, "Hey - it's all in the past..."
"No, it's not in the past." I glared back at him, "This is 2 years of three separate therapists." I think I got his attention because his face changed to a look of concern for me.
I turned to C, "This is about you coming back to my apartment, MY apartment all fucked up on who knows what and going in and out of the bathroom, yelling and scaring the hell out of me. [there's more to it, but I can't even bear to mention it here] This is about my dear, caring Stepfather.."
"Your Stpefather is a wonderful man." C interrupts with that glassy look of 'oh, okay crazy lady' that he used to give me all the time when he was lying straight to my face about the alcohol on his breath.
I didn't let him continue,"Yes, well, you took advantage of him and my whole family. You're a manipulative, arrogant, self-serving asshole."
At this point the girl friend succeeded at getting them to leave. The other guy they were with tried to start a fight with J and when J verbally countered, the guy threw a drink over the booths. Two men we know and work there quickly intercepted J, but only to confirm that we were taking it outside. In fact, C and his group were already out the door and once we got outside they were moving fast down the sidewalk. In an act of pure anger I shouted after him, calling him a wuss, just like I knew he was and pointing out that J was more of a man than he'll ever be and other similar profane comments. And while I am not proud that I acted like that - it was the rebellious punk in my coming out - it's a part of me I like and glad I have. It means I have my own voice and keeps me from being a doormat.
J and I drove home talking wildly about everything. We sat in our driveway for some time talking it out and over. Also, I was having anxiety about going into our house. I'm not sure why, but I think it has to do with your hyper state feeling like it's more exaggerrated in what is supposed to be a safe and calm environment. Kinda like those really drunk nights when the bathroom floor is somehow more comfortable than your bed because the floor doesn't point out but rather matches how miserable you feel. We did go inside eventually (3am I think) and fell asleep.
I woke at 8am in a panic and used my friend's gracious gift of a few xanax to sleep through most of the weekend. When I wasn't sleeping I was going over what I had said and, of course, what I wish I had said. Which was quite a few things and I started beating myself up because of it. Understandably, J became a bit agitated that I was so consumed by this. I know he knows why, but he's had to deal with me dealing with the aftermath of C for our entire relationship of almost 3 years. Despite my having the chance to say even the few fumbled words to C, I hated how having seen him brought everything to the forefront AGAIN. J and I agree(d) that we don't want C in our relationship anymore. I want him OUT.
And yet here I am, typing all about it at 3 in the morning because all of the thoughts that won't leave me alone. Damn it. Damn him.
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