Filling in the Gaps

"This is a hard entry to write only because I’m essentially admitting that I lied to myself for two years.  I feel like I don’t know where to start, but it’s simple really.  I left Chuck, I left Texas, and I’ve started over.

I suppose I’ll just start from the beginning.

I don’t have to describe how our relationship began, nor do I need to explain how completely smitten I was with Chuck for the first year.  Obviously, I thought Chuck was someone that I could potentially spend the rest of my life with.  Shit, I packed up my entire existence, essentially putting my job on the line, to move to Texas to be with him.  Not too long after I moved in with him, though, I began to see a side of Chuck that he had failed to show me in the previous year — the depressed, jealous, possessive, control-addicted (and possibly bipolar) side.

Over the two years that Chuck and I cohabitated, I was a prisoner in my own home.  At first, I thought Chuck was just overprotective.  He never wanted me to go anywhere without him, and his excuse was that even though I felt I could take care of myself and that he believed I would always try to be faithful to him, human nature often takes over.  He said he was more worried about other people’s actions as opposed to my own.  As time passed, though, I began to realize that his issues ran much deeper.  I realized that he has deep seated psychological issues that I don’t know if any amount of therapy can resolve."

I started that entry on December 15, 2010, but never finished it.  I was still so disgusted with myself and with Chuck and with the entire situation, that I decided as I ended that last sentence to just… stop.  I know I’m an asshole for dropping such a big bomb on you guys a year ago and disappearing, but it was something I needed to do.  I needed to move on.  I needed to spend some time focusing all of my attention on myself, finding myself, repairing myself.  I needed to start over.  I needed to start everything over.  And that’s exactly what I did.

Even now, the thought of recapping what exactly happened with Chuck exhausts me.  I honestly don’t want to talk about it at all, but that would be unfair.

Every day, I did something that spawned an argument.  Usually, I didn’t even know what that something was.  It could have been that I had an IM conversation with a male coworker about our project’s latest software release.  It could have been that I logged onto Facebook, which was expressly forbidden in our household.  It could have been that I had a phone conversation with my best friend, whom I was not allowed to talk to because I made the mistake of admitting that she and I had slept together years before.  Oh, wait!  Maybe it was because my brother called.  Chuck honestly believed that Rob and I had some kind of incestual feelings for each other because it was completely impossible for siblings to have a close relationship.  God, I’ll never forget the time David called me just to chat and see how I was doing, as he usually did once or twice a year.  I can’t even begin to describe how angry Chuck was with me, as if I could predict the future and know when an ex might ring my phone.  I ended up changing my phone number after that to ensure that it wouldn’t happen again.  I can’t count the number of days that I endured Chuck screaming at me for reasons that I didn’t even understand, nor the nights that I cried myself to sleep.  I gave up all of my hobbies.  I abandonded all my friends and family.  I caved in on myself because I just didn’t know what to do.

Then in July of 2010, I was asked to fly to DC for a week for a special project at work.  This project was one of the most exciting and interesting things I’d done in my four years with the company.  I was consulting with top security specialists with all of the major three-letter agencies, and my work literally made history by building a analytical case in the wake of one of the most extensive security breaches in our nation’s history.  At the end of the week, I was asked to remain in DC and continue work on the project for the next month.  I gleefully accepted.  That evening, on my way to my brother’s for dinner (my brother has lived in DC for years now), I called Chuck to tell him the exciting news.  Although me traveling for work had always been another source of contention between us (mainly because he couldn’t monitor my every move), I honestly thought it wouldn’t be a big deal because he was also going to be traveling for work those exact same dates.  If I weren’t in DC, I’d be home alone anyway, so what difference did it make?

That one little phone call made him so irate that he didn’t speak to me for days.

Although the silent treatment was nothing new, the reality of the situation just smacked me in the face.  That night, I drank a glass of wine in my 14th floor hotel room, peering out at the city lights and mulling over my options.  I realized how lost I’d become, and how much I’d been missing out on over the last two years.  I had wanted to escape all along, but I didn’t know how.  My company had paid for me to move to Texas, so I couldn’t just up and leave.  And truthfully, I didn’t want to admit to everyone that they were right — that it was a mistake.  But it was time to break my silence.  I told my brother everything, and after a chance run in with Chuck a week later in Colorado, Rob was actually fearful for my safety.  Chuck made many comments about how he should be the only thing that I think about every minute of every day, that he doesn’t want me talking to anyone else ever because that would distract my thoughts away from him.  Rob promised to help me with whatever I needed to get out of that situation and out of that town.  I’ve always loved DC, and for both personal and career reasons, it was obviously my best choice for a new home.  And funnily enough, my boss was so happy with my decision to move to our DC office (we’ve never had representation for our project in that office, and he was never truly happy with my decision to move to Texas in the first place), that within minutes of calling him, I had approval to move, along with moving expenses covered, a $15K bonus, and a $30K pay raise and promotion.  Yeah, I think that’s a sign that I made the right decision.

I haven’t seen Chuck since the day I left, and I haven’t spoken to him in over a year.  He does still work for our company, though, and from what I hear, he’s about to move to our Colorado office.  I still travel out there pretty frequently, so that means I’ll likely run into him at some point.  And I’m dreading it.  As I was moving out, Chuck deployed to Afghanistan for six months.  From what all of my deployed employees tell me, he talked about me constantly.  Everyone says that he owned up to the fact that he was to blame, but knowing that he still hasn’t moved on doesn’t make me very comfortable.  I guess only time will tell how that future encounter will turn out.

I guess it’s obvious from my last post that things have most definitely turned around for me since moving to DC.  I turned 30 this year, and I feel like I’m in my prime.  I’m on top of the world with my job, and I’ve found myself again — my hobbies, my passions, music, friends, family, and yes, even love.  Real love and a real man that treats me so much like a queen that I don’t even feel like I deserve him.  But I’ll have to fill in those gaps another day (soon, I promise!).  It’s almost quitting time here on the east coast, and all I can think about as the sun starts to set is getting home to Chris and basking in his arms wrapped around me.

Cheers,
Felina