Remember that song that came out in 1984 called "Missing you"..... it was meant to be ironic, saying I don't miss you but hearing your name or thinking about you makes me want you back, breaks my heart, etc. For me it's not ironic, it's absolutely literal.
I reckon most of us have gone through at least one breakup in our lives, some more than others, though there are the few lucky ones who find that special someone right off the bat and that's it forever. I'm not one of those lucky ones. I had my share of teenage breakups that would send me listening and crying to that song (it did come out in my prime), but then when I was 24 I met the man I ended up marrying. He abused me horribly for 14 years, threatened and tried to kill me many times, then after I left him I met the one who promised to make it all better and take care of me for the rest of my life. Nope, that one was a dud as well, once again abusing me in some of the same and some different ways as the first. Neither was any better or worse than the other ... both abusive narcissistic sociopaths.
What strikes me as odd sometimes, though sometimes not so much, is how I really am not missing either of them at all. The first one is no surprise, it's been 16 years since we split. The second was just a few months ago, though in my heart I'd left him years ago when he first started hitting me.
When I was first contemplating leaving him I had my share of second thoughts ... I hadn't been alone in a very long time. I'd spent the last 30 years being beaten down mentally, emotionally, and physically, and constantly reminded that I was nothing and could do nothing without either of them. Or could I? I had no idea, but I knew I had to try.
For 16 years I've had to be constantly accountable for my whereabouts and what I was doing and who I was with. He would text or call me repeatedly throughout the day to check up on me. He'd time me when I said I was leaving somewhere to go home (like from the library or something) then quiz me on why it didn't take the amount of time he figured it should have. If my answer wasn't acceptable then I paid the price.
When I finally did leave him, I was alone (with my cat) for the first time in a very, very long time; and rather than wondering when he was going to message or call, or try to come up with answers to whatever questions he might have for me, or worry that I was doing something he wouldn't like or that he'd scream at me for stepping out of line, or punch me for making a sound in my sleep ...... for a little while all I did was sit there in the quiet. I just sat. I didn't have to say anything, do anything, all I had to do was just BE. I didn't even cry, I just sat there. It was terrifying and liberating at the same time. I had blocked his phone so he wasn't calling or texting. He didn't know where I was, and had no way of finding me, and I was so relieved that from that point on I was only answerable to myself.
Up until the day I left I had wondered to myself if I would miss him. I had no doubts that I had to leave, but I did wonder if I would miss anything at all about him. Nope, not a thing. I miss nothing of him. I don't even think about him. His face doesn't come to mind at all, ever. I don't wonder how he's doing, I honestly don't care how he's doing. He tormented me for so long that of course I do have PTSD, on top of the PTSD I already had from the first one, so that's extra special .... I get nightmares, flashbacks, all the usual stuff. But do I miss him? Absolutely not. I truly ain't missing him at all.
It's a strange feeling to suddenly be your own person. To be responsible for making your own decisions, things that you haven't done for a really long time. I went to a store to buy cutlery (I am literally starting over from scratch) and when I found a set I liked I was hesitant at first. I looked around for someone to tell me yes, you can buy that if it's what you want. There was nobody to do that, this was MY decision, and mine alone. If I ended up not liking it, then that was my problem too, but I don't ... I LOVE it. I've been gradually picking out things for my new life, taking my time and getting only things that I love, things that mean something to ME, that are special to ME, that shout out to the world that I chose it and it represents who I am and what I like and if they don't like it, I really don't care.
It's also terrifying and often overwhelming. It's a huge thing to just start all over from nothing at this stage of my life. As I mentioned, I'm having to buy literally everything I couldn't get out of the house with, so that's pretty much everything I need to fill a house. I did get my clothing, books, my quilting fabric and tools, some dishes I'd collected in anticipation of this hopeful future, and not much else. I often find myself walking through a store looking at kitchen supplies and comparing things like the various slow cookers and then I'm looking at knives, pots, toasters, kettles, moving on to area rugs, lamps, literally everything starts piling up in my head and I just have to get out of the store ... it's too much. Thankfully I'm able to collect what I need slowly. I see an item or a good deal, and if I like it, I grab it. Then I can cross one thing off the list. Maybe the next day or week I'll see another thing or two, but there's no way I can do it all at once. For one thing, I can't afford to. And I have no place to put it all even if I could. Not yet anyhow. But fortunately for me I'm surrounded by people who love me and are helping me deal with that.
I do wonder sometimes if he ever misses me at all, or thinks about me.
The day I left, once he realized I was gone he sent me an email saying he had no idea it was so bad for me ... really? Maybe he thought the bruises were what - decorative? What about the times when he would laugh and brag about how he loved the thought that he could terrify me with just a few words or the tone of his voice. Or all the pain meds I had to take and x-rays I had to get because of him ... I guess all those things were just for fun.
He said he was sorry for yelling ... no he wasn't, he loved yelling, often just screamed AAAAHHHHH in the middle of the night just to make sure I couldn't sleep.
He said all he wanted was to make me happy and he thought a nice home, no worries about money and freedom to do my thing was enough. The home was nice because I kept it that way, because if there was a tiny mark or loose thread or speck of anything he would scream at me for "destroying" the place. I could use my credit card when I wanted to buy something, as long as he got every receipt and I had done my duty in adding up everything ahead of time to make sure it was all right and of course I needed a reason for everything. I knew better than to ask for something fancy or expensive because although he often "offered" to buy me things like a fancy expensive watch or something, I knew from experience that I would be expected to a. not use it so it would be pristine and new forever, b. if I ever did use it I could never get a mark on it that would indicate that it was used, and c. I would have to thank him profusely for it every time I used it. So no, I asked for nothing. As far as the freedom to do my thing ... I could go wherever I wanted, as long as I told him where I was going, who I was with, and how long I would be. Even then he would call and/or message me constantly checking to make sure I was where he expected me to be and then I had to tell him when I was on my way home so he could time me and make sure I arrived in the right amount of time or I had to account for the difference.
His email ended with him telling me he hoped I was safe and healthy and that he'll love me forever whether I believe him or not.
Well, the rest of the email was a lie so I expect the ending was as well, especially with the way he handled himself after I left.
There are a few things I do miss. I miss the convenience and accessibility to get certain things easily in a large city. That is out-weighed by the charm and friendliness of a small town and being surrounded by my family and friends here. I miss the fact that I won't be going to watch my Canucks play at their arena anymore. No biggie, I'll watch them on TV (it beats sitting next to someone who either won't stop talking or won't talk AT ALL or the abusive things he'd do on the way to and from the games). I miss the Childrens' Hospice where I volunteered, I made many good friends and met some amazing people there. I miss my quilting guild and my friends ... I already know many quilters locally here and I still have many friends that I've already seen a few times. My best friends in BC will now have to be online friends, but they know that safety is paramount.
So I do wonder now if he ever does think of me, or wish he'd not been
such a gigantic abusive ass for 16 years. I doubt he does, and to be
honest I really don't care. I'm done.
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