“The best revenge is massive success.”

Continued from Part 1.

I am not sure if there was another full day in between here or not.

But the next thing I remember was going to the campus of the school I would be attending. I couldn’t find anywhere that said “admissions” or “counseling” or “financial aid.” I also couldn’t find any parking lots labeled “visitors.” I couldn’t find a direct phone number for the veteran’s office I was looking for to call and figure out where to go to find them. I drove around the campus TWICE before I got frustrated and just left. I then began exploring the neighborhood looking for places I could walk to/bike to/skate to for work. Parking down here was TERRIBLE. I wrote down some names and addresses so I could apply online. I had also applied for unemployment but wasn’t getting any checks from them yet. I was really stressed out that day. Austin texted me — he had to pick up Erin and her kid at the airport after work. We talked off and on. He told me her kid wanted to come over to the apartment, he wanted to play PlayStation or watch Netflix — things he did not have in the country he was from. This kid is about 11 and doesn’t speak English, the only language that Austin and I speak so it was a little weird.... I told him I wasn’t going to be social if anyone came over because I had a frustrating and stressful day. I had gotten an air mattress for my room and was more than happy to hang out in there. He came home from work with the kid. The kid went to the couch and watched Pokémon. Austin came into my room and talked with me while I was on my laptop. He was kind and understanding that I was stressed out. He reassured me I would figure it all out. He reassured me I was being anxious over nothing (I do this a lot, I am clinically diagnosed with anxiety disorder so it’s counterproductive to tell me to “just stop” or that it’s “over nothing” but I understand he was trying to be helpful, so I let it slide). I had a glass of white wine and continued doing what I was doing. Soon (probably hours later), Erin showed up — it was the first time I had seen her since I had officially “moved.” I came out of my room and said hello, made small talk. I went back into my room. I got up a little while later to get another glass of wine. The kid was still watching TV. I turn the corner to the kitchen. I nearly stop dead in my tracks. I can’t think. I can’t feel anything. I get that numb but tingly feeling. Was it out of anger, rage, fear, confusion, something new? I am not sure but I focused myself to get to the fridge and pour myself a glass of wine and get back to my room. It took all my strength. My knees were shaking. I was not drunk this was only glass number two… I got back to my room and processed what I had seen. He was standing with his back to the counter. She was standing too close to him, sort of leaned into him. I had clearly interrupted something. This was not friendly, this was intimate. This was RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I was IN THE APARTMENT. They just moved together like they had always fit together. I couldn’t understand it. After all the conversations of “just friends,” “not having sex together,” “I would never date her because *insert reason.*” It was all a lie. ALL OF IT. He and her might not have been a couple but they were the same sort of “not a couple” as he and I. Was he lying to her too? Yes, I knew he was. I knew he had never told her about me. He had never told her we were having sex. He never told her that he and I were negotiating a GODDAMN Dominant/submissive contract. I knew this. But me? He was lying to me too. I trusted him. I loved him. I had believed him. I had believed the reassurances. I really did. In that moment, everything crashed onto me. Harder than at the bar downtown, harder than the biking trip, harder than anything else. It was at my feet. It was in front of me. He had no shame. He was a manipulative fuckwit (yes, that is a real word — look it up).

I nearly stop dead in my tracks. I can’t think. I can’t feel anything. I get that numb but tingly feeling. Was it out of anger, rage, fear, confusion, something new? I am not sure but I focused myself to get to the fridge and pour myself a glass of wine and get back to my room. It took all my strength. My knees were shaking. I was not drunk this was only glass number two… I got back to my room and processed what I had seen. He was standing with his back to the counter. She was standing too close to him, sort of leaned into him. I had clearly interrupted something. This was not friendly, this was intimate.

I got into my room and LOST it. I was sobbing. I was doing ok for the first few minutes. Pacing back and forth. Confused but managing. Then they left. They went outside. She was going home, her kid climbed into the car and I told myself “do not look out that window, you know what you are going to see and you are not going to like it…” Me also to myself, “LOOK OUT THAT FUCKING WINDOW!” I think you know which inner dialogue I followed. I looked outside and I watched them make-out for what felt like hours. I was shaking, sobbing, pacing, screaming (probably not out loud but it sure left like it). He came back upstairs and was actually confused as to why I was crying and upset. I said I had one request, ONE. I wanted monogamy. I wanted time for us to figure this out TOGETHER. Not with her, not with others, he and I. Me and him. Dom and sub. He told me I was crazy. I asked him why I was here. Why did he let me do this is if he was just going to continue to do whatever he wanted. He said he needed time for this to “normalize.” That became his favorite phrase for the rest of this fight. “Time to normalize” What does that even mean?! He and I had been intimate for over two years at this point. He had given me a set of five rules to follow as his sub. He and I were in the middle negotiating a contract. He had gotten me a collar about six months ago… He and I were not “new.” Sure, the daily interactions would be an adjustment, but that would take communication and communication of our boundaries. We fought for a few hours. I couldn’t stop crying. He seemed completely unconcerned with my tears and shaking. He just kept telling me this wasn’t an “instant relationship” and he needed “time to normalize.” No, this was going to need communication and boundaries, not time. I’m not going to be your doormat. I am not going to be some girl you stash in your apartment and fuck when it’s convenient for you. I am not that person. Never will be.

I’m not going to be your doormat. I am not going to be some girl you stash in your apartment and fuck when it’s convenient for you. I am not that person. Never will be.

After we calmed down a little bit, we sat on the couch and started watching the newest Orange is the New Black (ok, I also ask this of him — not to watch the new season until I could watch it with him. I had introduced him to the show and wanted to watch it together in the same room, not together thousands of miles apart). I sat there and realized something of myself. I was no longer mad at him. I just wanted to do better for him. I wanted to not be upset. I wanted to love him. I still wanted to have sex with him. I still wanted to sleep in his bed. It wasn’t healthy that I was so in love with and so submissive to this man that in this moment, after he hurt me, over and over and over again, I still wanted to kneel to him and “be good for him.” I slowly began to realize that, then I just hit a wall. Not literally, figuratively. I asked him if he wanted space or if he wanted me to come to bed with him. I knew by asking this I was giving him the decision. He knew what I would choose. I told him that. I said, “you know if I make this decision, I am coming to bed with you. I want to know if you need space or not.” He told me it was my decision. I followed him to bed. I laid there. I put headphones in and listened to a podcast. That podcast ended, another one started, another one. It was two in the morning before long. Laying there, completely still. He had moved away from me. He hadn’t touched me since we got into bed, which was not normal for us. Nothing. He was snoring. I was wide awake even after those two glasses of wine. I began to plan. I planned what I was going to leave behind and what I wasn’t going to pack up. I realized without a vacuum, I couldn’t vacuum pack my clothes like I did on the drive down… I got out of bed and left the apartment. I got into my car and began crying again. Every song was making me cry harder — if it was a happy song, I was crying because I was so unhappy; if it was a sad song, I cried because I was so sad. I got one of those bags to put on top of my car, drove back to the apartment and forced myself to get a few hours of sleep on my air mattress. I was going to give him one last chance. My new plan was this:

1. He would come into my room before he left for work, he would kiss me, apologize for fighting (or acknowledge it in someway even if it wasn’t an apology), and I would stay until he got home from work and try to talk to him about my fears and concerns.
2. He wouldn’t say goodbye to me in anyway and I was packing up my car and leaving.

I heard him get out of bed. I laid completely still in bed as if I were still asleep. I heard him brush his teeth. I heard him go to the kitchen. I heard the door close. I heard his truck start. He left. I looked out the window. His truck was gone. That was it. I got up and began packing… I already told the story of our last text message exchange (see “Gear Adrift”).------Frank Sinatra once said “The best revenge is massive success.”-------I left him and that part of myself behind. This was over six months ago. I never looked back. I never regretted it for one second. I still have not talked to him. I have not seen him. I forgot it was his birthday and didn’t think about him even once on that day. (I thought this was pretty huge on the road to closure). He removed me from every app and social media we were connected by and I completely stopped checking them. I have stopped having nightmares about him. I got straight As my semester back to school. I am a female in the STEM field. I have a job (actually just interviewed for a better paying job last week). I have reconnected with old friends. I have made new friends. I am closer than ever to myself. I am on a sports league. I have new Dominant/submissive dynamic I am exploring. I marched in the Women’s March in the city nearest to where I live (he would have HATED this and told me to stop being a whiny liberal millennial). As far as I am concerned, he was lost at sea and the search was called off…