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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/425090-Joe
Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #1031855
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#425090 added May 10, 2006 at 11:11pm
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Joe
In looking through my old writings, I found this little piece. I'm sharing this with you, because this is what I had mentioned before as my 1-1/2 years in Hell.

I wrote it for my college English Lit class only one year after this took place. You may notice the voice of the piece isn't what you might expect from me. As much as I wanted to change it, I decided not to, because my feelings were still pretty raw when I wrote it. Later, I plan on reevaluating this time in my life, because with the passing of 15 years comes an entirely new perspective.


==============================================

For nine months he was my world. My whole life revolved around him. I wanted nothing more than to make him happy; not because I wanted to, but because I had to. For nine months I was blinded by love, and for nine more months I lived in a version of Hell I had no idea how to get out of.

When I first met Joe, I was at a party my roommates and I were having. Each of us invited some friends. Surprisingly, we had quite a turnout. I had a friend come down from Laramie, Wyoming, and a friend from where I worked. My roommate, Vicki invited also several friends from work, and her brother. Audrey, another roommate, invited a lady from where she worked, Bootsie and her nephew Joe.

When I first saw him, I didn’t find him particularly handsome. He was short with a big nose, and had quite a beer belly. He was also quite muscular which make him look something like a tree stump. What did attract me to him, however, was his charismatic personality. He was very charming, and wasn’t afraid to meet and get to know new people. He was not shy in any sense of the word. He was flirtatious, if anything, which I found very appealing. The only thing I found frustrating about him was that he could never remember anyone’s name. He must have asked me what my name was five times during the night.

It turned out while I was a hair stylist working at a Sears salon in Fort Collins, I had cut his hair about a year prior to the party. At first, I didn’t recognize him, but then he said something and went into the bathroom. My memory suddenly clicked on, and I remembered that I had seen him before.

He came out of the bathroom, and I asked him if he had a scar in the back of his head.

He cocked his head to the side, and looked at me for a second. “Yes, I do.”

“I’ve cut your hair before.”

Again he asked me what my name was. I rolled my eyes at Vickie and repeated my name.

“Where did you work,” he asked.

“At the Sears salon.”

He rushed over to me, and gave me a big bear hug that lifted me off the floor. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

It must have been some haircut, because he spent the rest of the evening with me. We went into the kitchen and talked letting the party go on without us. We didn’t talk about the most memorable subjects, but I do remember how easy it was to talk to him. He seemed really interested in what I had to say.

I went to bed at around midnight, because I had to go to work the next morning. Several times Joe came up to my room to try to seduce me, but it didn’t work, because I am not the type for one night stands.
A week later, we saw each other every day, because I took him to and from work. Three weeks after that, I moved in with him. Even at the time I did it, I knew it was not the smartest thing I could do. I had a good reason, though. I was in love. Joe was so charming, honest, and quite exciting, I couldn’t resist him. He used to sell encyclopedias door to door for several years, and he could manipulate people very well, It there was one word to describe Joe, it would be “salesman”.

For nine months, things went pretty well. I did find that Joe drank more than I thought was healthy. Deep down, I knew he was an alcoholic, but I was in denial just as much as he was. I was not about to bring it up, because I knew that it’s almost impossible to convince someone they’re an alcoholic. Besides, he had such a quick temper, I’d only make hint mad if I brought it up. I never thought his alcoholism would be detrimental to me.

Until he hit me. I don’t even remember what the fight was about. One second, I was looking at him, and the next my head was turned to the side, and white dots were swimming in front of my eyes. After a second of shock, I was furious, and I hit him back. He swung at me again, and I just got up and left the room. I couldn’t believe he hit me. After all he said about never hitting a woman, and never would, he turned around and did exactly that. He apologized later, and I forgave him. After all, I did start the fight, or at least, so he convinced me.

Not long after, one of his old girlfriends stopped over while Joe was at work, and I had a day off. I let her in, curious of what she had to say. Joe had told me about their relationship, and when I saw her, I wondered how he ever found her attractive. She wasn’t pretty. She was just plain. If I had met her in any other circumstance, I would have forgotten her within a day. Of course I did have a biased opinion of her before I met her, so that description could be completely inaccurate. We went into the living room, and she cried about how much she wanted him back, and how I shouldn’t be with him, because he would just screw me over.

“What would you say if I told you Joe and I will still have sex while he’s with you?” she asked me.

“I’ll deal with that if it happens,” I told her.

“It already has.”

“Then I’ll deal with it.”

She didn’t say much more after that because she realized she couldn’t get me upset. Inside, however, I was feeling many different things. Part at me had a feeling it had happened, so I wasn’t really surprised. I was just angry because my fears were warranted.

I then went to meet Joe for lunch, and confront him about this incident. I was really proud of myself at the time that I stayed very calm and civil. Now, I wish I were less than nice about it.

I didn’t say a word to him until he asked me what was wrong.

“I just want to know one thing,” I said. “I want to know the truth. Kim came over to see me today.”

Joe sat up straighter, and asked, “What did she tell you?”

“She told me you two had slept together.” I paused to look at him. He wasn’t looking at me. “Now I have to ask. This has nothing to do with whether or not I trust you. I just want the truth. Did you have sex with Kim?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute or so. He didn’t have to. “Yes,” he said finally, very softly.

I just nodded my head, and swallowed hard I kept thinking of things I should say, but I knew if I got mad, he’d only get mad as well. So I finally just asked him why.

“I don’t know.”

I just shook my head. I thought for a moment, and answered his own question. “I think it’s because she excites you. You aren’t over her, yet. She is so obsessed with having you she would do anything you asked. You like that, because it makes you feel good.”

No argument there.

Basically, I told him I’d forgive him, which I never did. Every time he would go out and not tell me where he was going, I would fear he was going to see Kim. I thought it was my fault he wanted to be with her, because he told me I did not satisfy his needs. For a long time, I tried, but it didn’t matter. He’d get mad every time I did or said something he didn’t agree with, and threaten to go back to Kim. It worked for a while, and I’d literally beg for him not to. I was in love with him, and I just knew I could change him.

I knew he could change. When he was sober, and he wasn’t upset about anything, he was a good person to be with. As long as I didn’t anger him: drunk or sober, and keep him happy enough so he wouldn’t think about Kim, I could turn him into the person he wanted to be.

Yet, at the same time, I kept wondering why I wouldn’t leave. My mind kept telling me I was in a bad situation, but my heart believed I was with Joe because I was meant to be. I didn’t think I had a choice. I made a promise to myself that I would stay with the first man I slept with. Joe was my first. I felt morally obligated to stay, regardless of the situation. Even if I didn’t feel obligated, I didn’t feel I had anywhere to go. I had no money, and no place to stay. So I gritted my teeth and hung on hoping a way out would come along. I had no courage to make one for myself.

Joe was on probation for a second DUI. One of the stipulations of his probation was that he wasn’t supposed to drink. One night he was turned in to his probation officer for being seen in a bar. He was put on a drug called Ant-abuse which is designed to make the person vomit if he or she drank while on this drug. This worked for a while, but he soon found a way to switch the drug with an aspirin every time he went to take it. A few months later he was arrested for again being seen in a bar. This time, they just threw him in jail for the remainder of his probation. I stood by him for several months more, but then I began to see things from a more objective point of view.

I began to seriously consider leaving him now that I had the chance. I was finally able to save money, and was feeling a lot better about myself. Basically, I gave myself permission to be selfish, and to Hell with religious obligations. I wanted to be happy. But it wasn’t until I received a $144 phone bill that I finally saw the light. I realized just how much Joe was taking advantage of me, and how much I was allowing him to. For three days, I disconnected the phone, and didn’t talk to anyone aside from work. I decided I was tired of being treated as a slave, and acting like one. I deserved better than to be degraded and abused, because my partner didn’t have enough self esteem himself to treat me better. During these three days, I decided to change my life for the better, and lose the 180 pounds that was dragging me down, Joe. Finally, I mustered up the courage to tell him.

I reconnected the phone, and nervously awaited his call. When he did call, everything I wanted to say for the past eighteen months finally came out. I told him I never forgave him for sleeping with Kim, and that there was no reason for him to abuse me every time I pissed him off. I deserved better, and I wasn’t going to be held back by anyone anymore from doing what I wanted to do. He tried everything he could to talk me out of it. He went from trying to make me reel stupid for making such a big mistake, to crying in my ear to make me feel guilty. My mind was made up, and nothing was going to change that. For a half an hour he tried, but I was adamant.

He finally said goodbye saying, “I love you.”

“I understand,” I said.

“I miss you.”

“I understand,” I said.

He tried several more times to talk to me, but by being in jail, he could only call collect. I refused to accept the charges. Three weeks later, I moved out, and gave all of his belongings to his aunt, Bootsie. Finally, I had reached the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

I can’t say the relationship I had with Joe was all in vain. I learned a lot, and really grew up. I can now understand why people stay in abusive situations; the feelings of hopelessness and fear. Joe and I were the perfect pair. He was the alcoholic, and I was the co-dependant. It’s easy to put all the blame on Joe, but I have to take some responsibility as well. I stuck around to take it, and I allowed it to continue. Overall, I don’t have many regrets. Joe was what I wanted at the time. I wanted the unpredictability, the intensity, and the danger. But the main lesson learned here is that Joe, if anything, taught me what I don’t want in a future relationship. That is the one and only thing for which I owe Joe some thanks.

© Copyright 2006 vivacious (UN: amarq at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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