Thursday, November 17, 2011

A Brush With Fate and a Really Bad Couple of Years....

Note to self:  Do not blog late at night, before you go to sleep.

Last night, I couldn't sleep.  After writing my post, my head became flooded with memories of the first couple of years of living here.  This blog initially wasn't meant to be a total retrospective autobiography, but, all these events have led me to where I am today.  I have never journaled about some of these things before and probably should have.  (Or gone to therapy).  

A few months after moving here, my roommate and I moved out of Secret Serviceman Bill's condo and got an apartment.  One Saturday night, she went out.  I was sick with the flu and stayed home.  I had a fever and felt terrible.  At some point in the middle of the night, my fever broke.  I was soaked in sweat.  I got up to go to the bathroom, came back to bed and took off what I was wearing.  It was about 4 a.m. when I was awakened by screams from my roommate, yelling my name.  I was so disoriented and didn't know what was going on.  Apparently, she woke up to this guy on top of her.  He said some disgusting things to her and told her not to yell for me (but she did).  Next thing I know, this guy bursts into my room.  I can hear this "huffing" sound coming from him.  My only thought was "He's going to see that I have no clothes on and it's going to be really easy for him..."  I pulled the sheets up to my neck, as tight as I could.  He came over and stuck what I believe to be either an ice pick or a screwdriver near my neck.  I don't remember much.  I think I screamed. I must have screamed.  He jumped up and left my room.  I got up, shut my door (there was no lock on it).  And prayed.  He ran out of the apartment using the front door.  He didn't hurt (physically) either one of us.  He didn't steal anything from our place.  We called the police.  They were there for hours, fingerprinting, etc.  The guy got in through our slider in the living room.  They never caught him.  We never spent another night in that apartment.  We moved and all I could think of was that this guy was watching us and knew where we were moving.  For about a year, I slept with a knife and the phone underneath my pillow.  It is by far the scariest experience of my life.  

Some time went on and I ended up meeting a guy.  Tall.  Athletic. Cute.  Fun.  His name was Tony.  We had fun.  He was in his mid 20s and he didn't have a car.  That should have been clue number one for me.   After a few months, he moved in with me and my roommate.  He drank and partied. A lot.  At first it didn't bother me, but over time I realized he was an alcoholic.  He had one DUI before I met him and another while we were living together.  His parents, divorced, were both recovering alcoholics.  For two years, I believed this relationship could work.  I broke up, but then took him back each time he cheated on me.  I thought he would/could change--for me (co-dependent me).  It was really a horrible time.  He was awful to me.  I wished I had been stronger and smarter from the start.  When finally it looked like things were really over between us, he decided to move to Colorado.  It was the greatest gift he could have ever given to me.  Leaving.  Later, I heard that he got, yet, another DUI while in Colorado.  And after that, I learned that he was killed in a motorcycle accident.  He had been drinking.  Luckily, the girl who was on the bike with him survived....

Those were two of the worst years of my life.  Completely wasted.  Nothing good came out of that relationship.  As much as I would like to think that SOMETHING good came of it....I wished that I could have a "do over."  I probably sound cold and callus because of his passing away.  But, I can't help but think of what would have happened had I stayed with him?  
And a word about grammar and spelling:

Typically, I like to be the Grammar and Spelling Police.  It is my biggest pet peeve when people misspell words or use incorrect grammar.  Having said that, it occurred to me last night while I couldn't sleep that I used an incorrect spelling.  I said "Rylee preceded to tell me...." instead of "Rylee proceeded to tell me..."  I almost got up in the middle of the night to change it.  I am a freak. But, as hard as it was for me...I let it go.  I am not perfect.  There.  I said it. 

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