Ex-Mother In Law

Just when everything seemed peaceful and in order, I received a phone call from a debt collector, saying that my ex-boyfriend didn’t finish paying something from the property we were living in together. Unfortunately both of our names were on the lease, which means that if the debt wasn’t payed on time, it would affect to both of our credits.
I, naively, called his mom, because there’s a no contact order between us, and as soon as she answered I told her that this was going to be an awkward phone call, but I was just letting her know, because I knew that he already had a bad credit and woulnd’t want it to get worse.

Well, the phone call didn’t go as expected, she started raising her voice at me, telling me how I fucked up his son’s life, how I was wrong on not accepting that he didn ‘t love me any more and that he was in love with someone else.
Really, Shawnee? I fucked up his life? It was all my fault? Wow!… I kept my cool, listened to what she had to say and answered ..
“Look, Shawnee, I didn’t call to cause any problems, on the contrary, it was just to let you know what was going on because I can’t have any type of contact with your son. Second, I know that he’s your son, and that you will obviously take his side and support him, believe me, I ain’t asking other wise. And last, both of us know what he did, but if lying to yourself makes you feel better, go ahead.”

After hanging up, a lot of things came to my mind…She was blaming ME for what happened to his son, she was blaming ME for all the money that has been spent since then.
Seriously, how ignorant can a person be… I was 1000 miles away, and my case passed, evidence was accepted and I didn’t have to be there in person to testify against him because they had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Just think about that tiny little note, Shawnee. All of this was caused by him, not me.

Have a good day.

 

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Third and Last Strike Pt.2

My respiration was off, my heartbeat was up, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I grabbed everything that I gave him, all his clothes were thrown in the slimy trash can that was outside our apartment. I sent a message to that low life, Krystie Spears, telling her that she won, that it was fine, but that all of his crap was gone. He immediately came back, I was placing some of his belongings outside, by this time my roomate left because she had something to do.
While I was placing a box out of the door, I bent down and that’s when he kicked me behind my hamstring, I stood up and started walking, didn’t even give me a chance to shake it off when he threw me against the wall. Again, he left, and took what he could. I immediately called my friend and she said to hold on, that she was on her way. I kept packing my things when I received a phonecall from her ” He’s coming! He’s coming!” I asked her where she was and she told me that she was entering the alley, but that he was running towards my place, I dropped my phone and pthumbnail_FullSizeRender (1)ut myself against the door. He tried to unlock the door, noticed that I was there and started kicking the door until it cracked and he broke the glass that was there. I was
really scared, hoping that he would give up and leave, but the door wasn’t going to hold for much longer so I stepped back, let him in and I went outside where my friend was. She was standing outside her car, he started walking, flipped me off with his both hands, and pulled his pants down when he was across the street.
A little after was when the 911 call was placed by my friend, the harrassment and abuse wasn’t stopping, and it was clear that it wasn’t even near to an end. I waited patiently for the police to show up, it felt like an eternity. Two big police cars parked in front of my apartment and the interview with them started. After describing them a hundred times everything that happened, I was taken inside to strip down and have pictures taken of me where he previously and recently hit me. I could only keep thinking “Why is this happening to me? How did it come to this?”…

 

 

Second Strike Pt. 1

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We were working things out, things were still kind of on edge, but I had hope.
My friends were very worried about me, they wanted me to fly back to Tijuana, to be with them and with my family, somewhere safe. So I started lying to them and to my parents, telling them that we were broken up, that things were done aftert that fight, that he wasn’t living there at the apartment anymore.

I don’t remember how the discussion started, but I do remember, myself, being on my knees, between his legs, while he was sitting on a rocking chair that his aunt gave us; he was stubborn, and well, being a dick. After having a somewhat long of a conversation, or at least that’s how it felt like; I told him, in a calm but serious tone, that my patience has a limit, and that God’s my witness I was patient…so then I asked him  “What is it that you want? Because I know what I want, and what I want is to be with you, to be how we were,I don’t want no one else.”…he just paused and said “What I want is for you to want to leave”…my heart dropped, was in complete disbelief. After he begged me to stay, after all the promises that he made, after all the loving words that he said. I said that it was fine, if that’s what he really wanted. I went to the bedroom and stayed there, he didn’t care seeing me cry, he didn’t care the sadness that showed on my face, he got his phone, the apartment key and left, again…
I stayed in the room the whole day and afternoon packing again for the second time..I was so mad, frustrated, I felt betrayed, worthless and played…
It was night already, I was chatting on Facebook with a very good friend of mine, unfortunately she has been in an abusive relationship before, when he got back. As soon as he walked through the door, my body started shaking non-stop, couldn’t control my body, my hands and jaw were shaking uncontrollably…He got into the apartment yelling “I’m gonna make some noise!”, he came into the room, I was frozen, again…stiff as a board, he grabbed some stuff from under the coffee table that was across from the bed, dragging everything out, he crumbled a letter that I wroted for him and soaked in with water and threw in the kitchen trashcan, while he did this, he was looking at me and smiling. He ripped the curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, and then he tried to throw me out of the bed by pulling the sheets, which are mine, off the bed and lifting the mattress. I could smell alcohol on his breath…He went to the bathroom and started to take a shower, he was “rapping” what he was feeling at the moment, and what he was feeling was clearly hate toward’s me. I coulnd’t listen to him for another second, so I put a CD on the DVD player and played it as loud as I could. He then went to the living room and slept the rest of the night. Something that I couldn’t do because I was afraid, afraid of him maybe entering and try to do something to me in my sleep…

To be continued…

 

 

First Strike.

 

I really don’t remember how this discussion started, but I definitely remember how it ended. It ended with me, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, crying, noticing my neck and face red.

Things started heating up, I just wanted to be there for him, was just trying to calm him down, but I made a terrible mistake my blocking the front door. That’s when fear kicked in, when he grabbed be by my neck and choked me with both hands, dragging me like that for 5 feet against the door, that followed by a slap and him yelling at me “What? I thought you liked that”, referring to my sexual kinks. Then, he proceeded by punching my jaw between his fists, that’s when I really felt pain, but it did not end there, it ended when he grabbed me in a choke hold from behind and dragged me to the floor, and he still blamed me for taking him down with me. I stood up, my sweater was ripped and barely on me.
I wasn’t able to defend myself, I was in complete shock, it was just unbelieveable.

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He left for about 4 hours, didn’t even wonder how I was…

The next day, I decided to stay…he said that he didn’t want me to leave. That he loved me so much and that he wouldn’t know what to do if I wasn’t there by his side. I was weak…

Bruises started popping on my arms from the way he grabbed me, another one on the right side of my jaw, had  a sore neck and a messed up left wrist for a week.

After that, for a week and a half, everything was beautiful, right like before…

Here, alone…

IMG_1446I’m sitting at the corner of the table in a weird Motel, in a weird town, far away from home, far away from the one I love.
Still asking myself why these things happen to me, and can’t find the answer. I’ve been taking every day as it comes, and unfortunately it has only been a never ending nightmare.
I think of him constantly, wondering how he’s doing, if he’s thinking of me…if he misses me. But I know that he’s okay, he’s more than fine, because he found comfort in the arms of another girl, of a girl that he said, and swore, having no feelings towards her.
And here I am, still sitting in the corner of this table, in this weird Motel, in this weird far away town.