With all the pushing I was receiving from Chez, it was inevitable that I would push back. Since it became apparent that we were just never going to become the loving family I had envisioned when I brought her and Joad to San Diego to live with me, I almost had no reason to continue to try to make her happy.
I am very ashamed of my behavior the last few months that we were together. I regret a lot of the things that I will detail in this post. However, I don't regret stealing money from my employer because of my home situation. (Since the powers that be were planning to fire me anyway, I'm glad I came out a few extra dollars ahead.)
One thing I did was unintentional. For a period of time, Chez claimed that Joad had a preference for me. I told her I didn't think so, but she wanted to prove it to me. She had him stand on one side of the living room and us on the other. We would call to him. He ran over to me. We did this several more times. He ran to me, every single time. She said, "See? My son used to love only me! I want my son back!" I replied, "Well, I want my girlfriend back, but I don't think that's going to happen!" "F*** YOU!"
On the intentional side, if I wanted to go do something (like see a movie), I would ask her if she and Joad wanted to go. If she didn't, she say "No!" I would respond with, "Okay, I'll see you later," and walk right out the door. I'd come back about three hours later. She'd ask if we were going to go out and get something to eat. I'd ask her, "Weren't you going to make anything?" "No!" "Okay, I'll go out and get me something to eat. I'll see you later." I wouldn't come back for another three hours. "Are we going to go out?" "No, I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed." And I'd go lay down.
This happened a few times. One day, after I had pulled this stunt again, she came into the bedroom. I was laying with my face in the pillow. She asked me, "Do you want me to come over there and hit you?" With my head still face down, I held up my arm and moved my fingers in a "bring it on" motion. She came over, pulled my head by my hair and started punching me in the face. She hit me about five times. Then she let go of me, started crying and left the room. I went out after her.
(I should point out that even though Chez acted all tough, she clearly did not know how to fight or throw a punch. She would likely have trouble going up against a 10-year-old girl with diabetes. I could feel her fist touching my face, but it felt like she was trying to slap me with a marshmallow. She really didn't harm me.)
I asked her what she thought she was doing, but she wouldn't answer me. But that wouldn't be the only time she would hit me. I once said something to her that made her mad. She came up to me and I could tell she was going to punch me in the stomach. I quickly tightened my stomach muscles before she could make contact. I think she probably felt more pain than I did.
But I also messed with her mind. Since I couldn't really hit her or yell at her, I came up with something that might scare her a little. One night, when she was trying to sleep on the sofa in the living room, I came out of the bedroom and acted like I was sleepwalking. I went over to the kitchen and started turning the water on and off. I did this for a couple of minutes. To keep myself from laughing, I started breathing very heavily and loudly through my nose. Eventually, she came over to see what was going on. I turned my head in her direction without looking her in the eye and put my hand on her shoulder. I yelled, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT I COULD DO TO YOU?" I pushed her a little and started walking away. She asked, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I walked like I didn't have full control of my legs. She noted this and said, "Oh, you're sleepwalking." I got back into bed.
A couple of minutes later, Chez came in and sat on the bed next to me. I acted like she just woke me up. I said, "Hey, how are you doing?" "Do you know what you just did?" "No, what?" "You were sleepwalking." "What did I do?" "Well, you came out and started turning the water in the kitchen on and off. I came over and pushed you. (She didn't.) You pushed me back and yelled at me and then you came back to bed." "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" "Yeah, but that was just kind of weird." I never pulled that stunt again.
But my frustration at all of this truly got the better of me one night. We were watching the final episode of "Quantum Leap." Joad had a tendency to go into the kitchen and push the buttons on the stove and make the burners come on. If we didn't realize he had done this, the smoke detector would go off. This particular night, he was being really ornery and kept going in and pushing the buttons, even though we kept telling him not to do that. I was trying to pay attention to the show (because I didn't have a VCR to record it), and didn't like having to run into the kitchen every five minutes to turn off the stove and pull him out. This one time, I got really fed up. After turning the stove off, I started pushing Joad back to the living room and I bumped his back with my knee, a lot harder than I intended. Chez couldn't see what had happened. Joad was making an effort to keep from crying, but Chez could tell something was wrong. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" "I didn't do anything." "DID YOU HIT HIM?" "No. I don't know what happened." Well, I did know what happened and I also know that Joad didn't touch the stove for the rest of the evening.
I am really sorry I did that and I know there's no justification. But I did realize that I had not gotten old enough to outgrow the emotional scars I had received from my father in similar situations. I didn't like that I was starting to turn into the adult that I feared I would become. I never laid another hand (or other body part) on Joad. I also never told Chez the truth (even though she probably knows). She would have felt I was no different than Road, even though she would continue to beat Joad herself.
As Chez' desire to go back to New Mexico grew with each passing minute, so did the lengths she would go to make me angry. She started accusing me of being gay. (Well, that's what I get for not having sex with her.) She also took every opportunity to disrespect my level of education. "Just because you went to college doesn't mean you're smarter than me!"
During an argument, she said, "I know what you want to say to me. Why don't you just go ahead and call me that? You know you want to!" She was referring to the b-word. I told her, "I don't want to call you that, because if I do, any shred of feelings that you still have to me will completely vanish. And then, we'll have nothing." I was starting to feel like she wanted me to say it just so she wouldn't be in love with me anymore. I wasn't going to let that happen.
During an argument one day, I held my hands up and made a fist without thinking about it. (But not to hit her, that's just how my hands went up.) She yelled, "YOU WERE GOING TO HIT ME!" "No, I wasn't." "YES, YOU WERE! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WERE GOING TO HIT ME! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN ROAD!" She refused to listen to me. She just wanted to believe that I would be the type of boyfriend who wanted to hurt her. In a way I was, but not with physical force.
It was apparent that she and Joad weren't going to be around much longer. I didn't know what needed to happen to make them leave, but I didn't want to be held responsible for it.
As luck would have it, I wouldn't have to be. You'll find out who it was tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment