last saturday i had "*m*" scribbled in my little pink personal calendar i keep in my purse, ever since my schedule got so hectic in my mission to remain at home as little as possible. hell, it go so that i could barely keep track of where i was supposed to be and when.
he apologized. not only did he apologize, but i was actually very pleasantly surprised that he sucked it up and admitted he had turned exactly into big *c*. his life had gone to shit and he was taking it out on me. he put me last. he pushed me away instead of letting me in. he ignored me, and i didn't deserve any of it. he treated me like absolute shit, and he was filled with remorse. he loved me, and oh god, did he miss me. it killed him every minute i wasn't home, and it killed him to know that he brought it on himself and, moreso, that he deserved all of it.
and so on and so forth.
he got really choked up and even teary-eyed for some of it. it's uncomfortable being around a grown man crying. we talked a bit. he was stone-cold sober...for once. lately he'd been drinking a lot, but as he'd ignored my own drinking binge previously, i made a point to ignore his. on his knees in front of me (i was sitting on the floor happily eating taco bell), he asked if there was any chance of us fixing this. any chance at all?
i shook my head. "it's too late," i said.
after a lot of crying and kicking himself, he left for a while. i thought maybe it was to drive around and think, but it was actually to buy more alcohol. however, by then i'd asked *ds* and *ks* over to watch more alias and to talk a bit.
sunday was another story. i'd come home after a fun night out with *ds* and *ks*. that was the "corset and cheese" night. oi vey...
but we talked more, *m* and i, because i was actually trying to be friendly and he wasn't speaking to me. "ah, so we're being rude now," i said. he gave me this schpiel about having just lost the best thing that ever happened to him and how he's having a hard time right now and just trying to kill his love. that's the phrase he used. "kill his love." every time he looks at me it reminds him of what he lost and it hurts too much.
fuck. like every time i set foot inside that apartment i was whacked upside the head with everything i'd lost --including how dead my lifelong dream was-- and with everything that made me so fucking miserable? everywhere i looked, there were *m*'s things, reminders i was in such close proximity to someone who had made me as miserable as big *c* and my bio-dad had.
(just for reference, my friendship with my bio-dad is really good now.)
so i had no pity. and *m* was well along in the drinking by that time. the argument escalated to the point where he lost his temper and was screaming at me. he slammed his drink on the table, which splashed in a fountain onto the carpet. he stood over me and was shouting at the top of his lungs. being that i will not tolerate being in any submissive position except at my choosing (and only with my lover), i calmly got to my feet and stood off with him. he ignored the gesture and continued to shout. he put his hands on me, still shouting, right around the scruff of my neck.
drunk, he put his hands on me in anger.
which is, of course, the unacceptable Point of No Return.
so the next day i told *mj* and *cc* about it. they were upset, needless to say. i told *ds* and *ks* as they sat on the couch with me and we watched across the universe (yay!). i called up my dad and told him, and he and i had a long conversation about it.
the thing of it is, i was still actually willing to pardon his behavior. compared to the really violent shit i've already lived through, putting hands on me while shouting in my face doesn't really register on my scale. i was more insulted and irritated than anything, and not once did it even occur to me to be frightened. in fact, he backed down first. but seriously, i've been beaten, raped, bludgeoned, had joints dislocated, and stared down the barrel of a gun someone else held up at me. all at the hands of men. a little drunken raging was nothing. pipsqueaky, even.
but then *ks* said something that simply decided it for me. he said the thought of his sister living in this kind of environment just made him twist up inside, and i knew it was that protective love for a member of his pack he was talking about. well, if living in that place --where i'd honestly had nothing but unhappiness anyway-- was going to do that to members of my family, then move out of it i shall.
and i did. monday night we packed up some of my stuff, then went to shari's and celebrated by stuffing ourselves like pigs. it was great. on tuesday we packed up the rest of it and hauled it out of there. on wednesday we moved my heavy stuff and that was that. i'm now posting to you live from my new apartment i share with *ds* and *ks*.
and on wednesday night, *sy* and i broke in my bed good and proper.
and it was Good.