Coming clean (Part one)

The last couple of days have been decent.  I have just allowed myself to relax and reflected on my thought pattern recently. I need to keep an eye on that, because if I don’t, I could get off course. That is the life of having a mind that goes goofy at times.

I came clean with my mother about Mickey and what happened, this is one of the things that I never really talked to anyone about. During this time, I was keeping my sexuality quiet, and out of public eye. I knew that most who knew me, knew about my being a BI, and being more into an open relationship with people; So, as long as I did not do anything to bring shame to the family image (Getting caught is actually what I was avoiding), everyone would just pretend that they knew nothing about it. I kept a big enough circle of “Friends” that along with a little white lie here and there to my family, including my best friends, no one knew that I had a steady boyfriend. I figure that certain people may have known, but never really pushed me for a real answer about where I would go after work, who I was spending time with, and when they did, I gave a vague answer that sometimes confused people (I am not that good at lies per se, I just got good at hiding things from others). Not the healthiest ways to live, but we all make our own choices.

The first few months were great with him. We would get into arguments, and a couple of them he acted aggressively, but I figured it was more that we were both male, so, it was natural to get shoved sometimes (Heck, my brother and I still shove each other sometimes, so it is ok, right?). Shit hit the fan, and it hit it quick when I began working back at a chain restaurant, and beginning my training as a manager again. I had gone through the steps before, but then a management shift killed that as the new GM did not believe that I was a good fit for his team (So, I got mad, and turned in my two weeks notice). I figured it would be a walk in the park to get my old job back, since I had done a few months as third shift cook and leader at an all night diner, and the GM was willing to give me a chance. This was about the time that Mickey decided to return to using meth, and I was trying to resist it, and keep supporting him, trying to get him to stop before he gets bad again (We both had been clean off it for a while).

On my first day at work, I meet my shift manager and I think ‘Flame on’, and even though I have a boyfriend, and I do love him, did not mean that I couldn’t appreciate Alex’s body (I wish I had not fucked up my chances with him, because well.. *wistful sigh*). Since we usually worked the late shift, we often would be the last ones to leave. I found out that he was in an open relationship with his partner, and that if I was interested, so was he. I couldn’t tell him at first that I had a boyfriend, my private life and all, but he saw right through that. So, I let him know that I had a boyfriend, and I would remain faithful to him. Everyone in the grill area would talk shit to each other, or sometimes use word play to sexulize how we were handling the meat, and asking if they want us to grab their meat, or vice-versa. I found out pretty quick that Alex had a problem with boundaries and self control. He started putting his hand on the small of my back and rubbing in a downward angle, he never actually grabbed my buttocks or reached into my pants, but still quite uncomfortable. I asked him not to do that, he gave me this weird smile but stopped. Unfortunately, this was just the beginning of more shit, because Alex, was determined to get what he wanted.

While I am fighting off the advances, someone was watching what was going on, and I do not know if it was out of jealousy, or what but he set in motion events that spiraled quickly into the black hole of a shit storm that almost cost me my life. I am laying on my boyfriend’s couch with my head on his lap watching a movie because date night, and my phone rings, and I see that it is my grandmother. I answer it, and put it on speaker phone so I could hear her drone on about whatever, while we pause the show and he gets up to get us drinks from the kitchen.  She asks me about what is going on at work, I am not even thinking about the events earlier that day. My grandmother tells me that Darren, the grandson of one of her closest friends, and son of one of my dad’s closest friends, called his grandmother telling her that I was letting this manager grab on me, and that we were always flirting (Well, fuck). On the flirting, honestly, after he grabbed me like that, I had resolved not to flirt with him much anymore, I figured I may have gotten a little deep with my own flirting, so he was acting on what he perceived, and I could not let it get that far again (Yeah, I admit that I like feeling desired like that, sue me). So after I got her calmed down, and convinced there was no threat to the family image, I hang up.

I look at Mickey, who was sitting on the other end of the couch (And he looks like he did more than just get a beer while in the kitchen), and he asks, “When were you going to tell me that you were letting someone else grab you?” My thoughts were, “Oh fuck, he is high on meth again”, “What the fuck, I let them do it?” What I said, “No, it was just some flirting that got out of hand. I dealt with it.” Hoping this would head off any problems, it failed. He started accusing me of purposefully keeping that from him, and then started calling me a whore, and telling me that I should leave. I was trying to get him to see that I would have told him when I thought about it, I was just wanting to spend time with him, and we were talking about other things. This night ended with me being pushed out the door, not physically this time, no violence occurred this time.

Not too long after this, I noticed that Mickey would show up at me work shortly before close, he would come in get a meal, then leave. One day he heard Alex ask me if I was going to grab my meat, or did I need him to, to which I laughed and said that I was a big boy, and could get my own. He was standing by my car when we closed. He started about hearing that as I got to the car. I looked and asked if he saw that I handled it, to which he said, that I apparently did not if he was still talking to me that way (Ok, he has a point there). Alex, has already left by this point. I get mad, and tell him that I am going home, I am too tired to deal with this, especially since he is once again, high, I turn around to open my car door and the next time I feel him grab a hold of my head and slam it into the roof of the car. “Quit being a fucking whore, you told me you were done with that.” I was stunned. “What the fuck! The last person I ever whored myself to was you! Don’t you ever fucking hit me again dickhead!” He did, and I went at him as well. He knocked me down and kicked me a couple times in the stomach. As he left me bleeding on the ground with a fat lip and a shiner “You better remember who you belong to whore! You do what I tell you to!” Thankfully I had the weekend off, so I hid in my room so others could not see I got my ass kicked by my boyfriend. I was determined to get him back off the meth, that is what is driving him crazy like this (I mean, it could, right?).

When asked about my marks at work (I had successfully avoided my family), I made up an excuse about how I was at a party and a fight broke out and helped to break it up, they could only see the face marks. I do not know if they bought that, but no one said anything. So this is how it was for the next few weeks, he normally refrained from hitting me in the face again. One evening, I was only working to close, and Alex did it again with the hands, and I was loud about it, at the end of the shift he apologized, and I told him, that it will not happen again, or I would report it because that is sexual harassment. I left work, a little upset, and starting to contemplate things, like what do I do if things keep going like this?

I get home and get ready to go out with Mickey. I hear him pull in just as I close the door, so turn and go outside to greet him and tell him what happened at work, so I do. He tells me that I have to quit that day, I explain that I needed to put in my two weeks notice, because I do not want to do anything to jeopardize future employment. He got angry and started saying that I was either really stupid, or I was a slut and actually like the way I was being treated. Hindsight being what it is, maybe I could have kept my mouth shut, yeah, I should have, but I was hurt, and upset, “Well, at least he is giving me the kind of attention that makes me feel wanted, and attractive!” I saw that was the wrong answer to de-escalating this immediately, as I saw his fist coming at my face, and I was not fast enough because of the tears in my eyes, “You worthless fucking whore!” catching me square on my nose, breaking it. “You think you are pretty enough to be desired!” another punch to the face as I was caught totally off guard. I try to throw my hands up to defend myself, I feel something some lose in my mouth. This time he is all over me, and I lay in a heap by his van when he gets in and tells me to “quit the fucking job!” then leaves me in the yard. I received a broken nose, a black eye, bruised ribs, and my left upper molar had been knocked out.

I go to work the next day, not looking hot at all. Everyone asks me what happened, I come up with the lame excuse that I am in a fight club (I know, right?). I know no one believed me, but no one pushed me either. That evening Mickey tells me to come over to his house, so I do. He tells me that from then on, until I quit that job, that I would be treated as he believes I want to be treated, and slaps me while calling me a whore. I start to walk away, and he tells me that if I do that he would send the pictures that he has of me to everyone I know. I have to fuck him and some of his friends that he is now smoking crack with. By then end of the night, I was right back to where I seem to find myself, so I said fuck it and hit the pipe,with them. I promise him that I would see about getting my job at the other restaurant back, and he was happy, but that did not stop him from beginning to share me with his friends. A month or two later, my crack habit was full blown and I lost that job, and went back to the other job.

The end of part one. I will put what happened that almost got me killed in the next post.