Yesterday

The first time I read his response, I laughed at the utter ridiculousness of it. Then I read it again and noticed the veiled threat of the last sentence. Fuck you and your family and I hope you don't see any of mine because it won't be pretty. If he is acting this way sober, then this is his true nature. I know firsthand that he isn't all threats and no action. There have been a number of incidents besides the car one.

I used the private number my therapist gave me for emergencies. I told her I was frightened of the threat and considered it real. She trusted my judgment, saying I was now able to see him for who is really is instead of the person that I loved. She said I needed to do whatever it took so that I would feel safe. She advised contacting the rehab center and reporting that I received a threat from him and to forward them the e-mail. She said they would hold him accountable for his response. She also told me to contact the police and file a police report on him since he has a history of hurting me.

I called Christopher when I got home from work. I asked him to come over and watch TV with me. Told him he could have sole possession of the remote control. Maybe that's weak of me, wanting to be with him that night so I wouldn't feel so scared. I never told him about the letter nor the e-mail I received back. Christopher was so not understanding of the relationship itself that I knew he would be even less understanding of my attempt at closure.

The e-mail doesn't surprise me. It's pretty indicative of how he spoke to me. However I was surprised to discover the effect it had on me was the same. The first time I saw it for what it was, but with each subsequent read of it, I began to doubt myself more and more. Did I say something wrong? No, I had it approved by a mental health professional. My intent was not to blame him, but explain the effect of his actions on myself, although that concept might be a little too intellectual for him. But the doubt of myself continues to grow, exactly how I explained in my letter. It's just like when he would tell me that no man would ever love me. It sounded absurd the first time he said it, but when you hear something over and over and over, you start to believe it. Kind of like how some children begin to believe their own lies that explain missing parents. My daddy is a secret agent. I am unlovable.

The next morning I woke up with Christopher's arms around me. His body was pressed up against mine. I lazily got out of bed and slowly started getting ready for work, just like I do every morning. I dropped Christopher back at his apartment, just like I do when he sleeps over on school nights. My new life had resumed, despite the miserable pause I had the day before. I didn't feel the crushing need to file a police report to protect myself anymore. It was literally a new day. He was my yesterday.