I woke up the first morning home in my giant princess bed, alone. Snow softly falling outside and a fresh sunburn on my cheeks. Surrounded by the scent of his cologne and missing the arms I’d woken up in just a few days earlier.
Broken and shaking uncontrollably, with a dozen angry text messages from him, complete with pictures of the beach- telling me how sad it was that I’d made it an unwelcome destination for my daughter and I. As if I’d ever let him within a hundred miles of her.
My sister got someone to cover my shift, and I sat in bed, motionless and in silence, all day. Unspeakably devastated and unsure what/how/where, etc… with my phone ringing off the hook because everyone knew I was home. Sober One Kenobe and Baby Teeth came right over and hugged me. I sobbed and told them I didn’t know what happened but it was bad.
MSOK- You need to take a test, I’m sure your drink was drugged and I bet he did it.
J- There’s no reason for him to do that- it’s a disaster.
MSOK- Take care of yourself. I love you, I have to go to work but I’ll come over later.
Silence again and I’m going crazy listening to his texts chirp in. My Yahoo chat thingy that I’d loved so much before was now the bane of my existence. I deleted him. I blocked him. I unblocked him.
and cried some more.
I got out of bed and took his clothes off. I let my dogs out, and they took off. I sat down and really just cried. My Fearless friend drove over and held me. She helped me pack the stuff in a box, drove me to the post office and to go break my stupid fucking dogs out of doggie jail… to the tune of $110. Assholes… as if I don’t already have enough on my plate.
With the last of him gone (she wouldn’t let me keep his t-shirt…even after I begged) she took me for the ultimate humiliation… a drug test. At the first sign of the nurse I lost it all over again. How on earth did I get here?
N- Ideally you’d have had the test yesterday, because you may have already metabolized whatever it was in your drink but you’re visibly trembling and that’s a sign of Rohypnol.
A quick blood draw and a smiley face band-aid. My Fearless savior drives me home and hugs me another dozen times while I cry. She tells me to get dressed, she’s not going to let me sit in my bed and cry anymore. I climb in the shower and feel the hot water burn against my sunburn. I have bruises everywhere, and my right shoulder is purple. My teeth are chattering and the water is scalding hot. I hold out my hands and watch them shake under the water and see the purple bruises around both wrists. I look like death warmed over…. and I feel worse.
The hate from him continues. He’s furious that people are judging him and he tells me I need to write WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM. He’s pissed at me for suggesting this happened to me too. I can’t win. I can’t convince him that I’m sorry and I don’t know what happened. I tell him about the drug test and he doesn’t care either way.
T- You were drugged, so?
Then the emails come rolling in. The women start to fall out of his closet faster than I can lock myself in my own.
Apparently… I’m one of MANY. I’ve heard from 6 so far. Three of whom sent me the scathing emails he wrote in response to their inquiring about whether or not he was involved with me. I was outspoken about it on my blog… and he wasn’t. My mom said it best when I got home.
M- Honey, I started reading that night after Lovely called me to tell me things were bad and you needed help. He sort of alluded to you, but in a way that anyone else could assume was about them as well. You’re gushing, throwing out flares and proclaiming it for the world to see, and he didn’t even comment on what you’d written. It was a big departure from how he used to be, and we noticed it immediately. The hotel told me he’s a frequent guest.
J- He told me he’d never stayed there before.
Who has two thumbs and feels like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet? This girl.
I got dressed, and went to trivia… if you can believe it. I needed my people. The people I love so dearly that really love me back. I sat between my Bestie and Smartypants and they saved me from wallowing. Huge comfort in the form of REAL men who would never intentionally hurt me.
Friends and acquaintances, customers who knew I was going to Puerto Rico, etc… they’re all rushing over to see how it was until they take one look at my face.
Not well. Not at all.
Fairytale? Not so much.
But… OH my have I learned a helluva lot. This seems to be the year of painful lessons and book deals about douche bags. Honestly my psycho internet weirdos seem pretty harmless after this nightmare. Nevermind he tells me constantly that I’ll never have real love in my life like he gave me. I should hope not.
Miss Lovely tells me to come over and I lay on the floor and cry and she asks if I’ve heard from anyone else who’s met him in Puerto Rico and I tell her no.
L- That’s because you can’t email from the “other” side.
I’m still just in love with him, and can’t understand what the hell happened. If it’s one language I’m fluent in, it’s cheating lying douche bag. I wish I could say I was surprised, but it’s happened so many times that I’m not.
But…. this man met me after reading about my lying cheating douche bag boyfriend. He knew, more than most, what I’ve been through this year. He knew… and he STILL went there… and if one thing earned the hate blog he’s about to get smacked with, it’s that.
Informed betrayal counts twice in my book and this is the ultimate betrayal. That I ever apologized to that fucking liar is embarassing. That I’m still in love with him, is proof of the damage he left me to repair.
My test came back positive, like I knew it would… and it still made no difference to him. Every man I know kept shaking their head, telling me they’d be worried sick about their girlfriend/wife if they were in my position.
Systematically I picked up the pieces and put my lovely self back together. I made a dozen new best girlfriends who were ALL there for me when I really needed to remember to ignore his hate and vitriol.
Win or lose, I survived… and though the cracks may still be visible, I’m armed with a rainbow of duct tape and yarn to sew/tape/glue them all back together again.
I’m good. I’m fine. I’m a lot better than I was a month ago today…
And a HELLUVA lot smarter.