Last Straw
It was a hot night for the beginning of September. I remember because I left the windows open, and the neighbor’s car alarm woke me up. I looked around in the apartment that I had shared with my former fiancé. We had broken up but were working on things. I got up off of the couch, looked at my phone and it was dead. I had no sense of what time it was. I walked down the dark hallway into my bedroom expecting to find Vinny lying in bed but he was nowhere to be found. “Vin?” I called around the apartment but got no response. I walked down the steps to the basement and found him sitting on the couch just staring into space with tears in his eyes.
This was a scene all too familiar to me. It’s the reason, why we had broken up in the first place. He had been home for two years from Afghanistan and yet felt like I was still waiting for him to come home. It was like being in a relationship with a ghost. Flashbacks and nightmares ruled our relationship. I couldn’t blame him, I couldn’t fight with him, all I ever did was just sit there in silence. He never talked about what went on over there, so I had no way to sympathize.
“Do you remember what happened?” I asked
“Yes, but I just don’t want to talk about it Kayleigh you know this”
It was then I began asking myself was this worth it to fix? I had gotten him into VA groups, taken him to therapy, encouraged him to take medication, taken the mental abuse from it all and I got nothing in return. My face became hot and tears started rushing down my face. I got into bed and tried my hardest to sleep. We woke up the next morning and as usual didn’t talk about anything. We went about our day we both went to work, after work I had school. It was my first night of English class. My car needed to be dropped off that night at the dealership so I had asked him to take me to and from school. We had gotten in a slight argument over our potential wedding on our way to class. I never thought anything of it. I got out of the car.
“I’ll see you at 9:30?” I said to him
“Yup. I’ll be here. Have a good class” He replied back as he kissed be goodbye.
Around 8:30 I texted him saying we were going to get out early. I knew he had taken my daughter out but I just assumed somewhere local and it wouldn’t be a big deal if it would be an hour earlier. As I walked out of school I called him to see where he was. It rang a few times before he forwarded it to voicemail. As I hung up I saw his car pull around with my daughter waving from the backseat. As soon as I got into the car I saw the look in his eyes. His eyes were filled with hate, and anger. Every time he got into this mood it was the same expression. I looked at him and said, “What is going on?”
“Don’t you know people have lives? I’m not just here to chauffer you around” He screamed at me.
He then began yelling about irrelevant bullshit that I blocked out, calling me names, cursing, screaming. This was all going on in front of my four year old. This was all because I got out of class early? As we pulled up to the corner of Cedar Grove Rd. and Springfield Rd., I told him to turn around. No faster had the words come out of my mouth then he had parked the car while in the middle of the street and got out. He began punching signs, screaming, kicking things. Meanwhile my daughter was terrified and screaming in the backseat. I hopped into the drivers seat and drove into the shopping center parking lot. He was lying on the ground crying and punching himself in the head. I was at a loss for what to do. Did I call the cops? Did I call his mother? Do I call his therapist? I knew I had to get my daughter away from the situation , God forbid something should happen to her.
I explained the situation to my dad and had him come pick me and my daughter up, and we stayed at my parents house. I left Vinny lying there in the parking lot by himself. I felt so guilty. I didn’t sleep at all that night, not for one minute. All night I though to myself, “Was he still there? Was he okay? Had I done the right thing?”. But then it finally hit me. Why am I responsible for fixing him? Why am I responsible for his happiness? I gave him all the resources to help him fix himself and yet he never used them. And finally, what kind of example would I be to my own child if I settled in a relationship like that? I didn’t want to show her that you have to fix people, or accept that it’s okay to be put down because its not.
The next day as I anticipated he called me apologizing. Saying, “He can’t control himself when he gets like that, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, and stupid shit makes him mad”. I told him we needed to talk in person and I would be on my way over shortly. I looked at my big beautiful engagement ring that I wore so proudly. I thought about our wedding (and all the money we had dumped into it already). I thought about every laugh, cry, smile, fight we ever had. I thought about how shitty I felt that after waiting for him to come home for so long that this was the end result. All the nights I stayed up waiting for a phone call, the Christmas I couldn’t talk to him because someone was killed on base and there was a blackout but they wouldn’t tell us who was killed, the anticipation of seeing him again. All of that went to shit.
I took my ring off and put it inside of its box, I gathered all things of his that I had from my house, I grabbed some trash bags and I drove to the apartment. As soon as I got out of the car I popped my trunk, he saw the bags, and he knew. Without saying a word to him I got all of his stuff out of my car with tears in my eyes. I looked at him one last time and handed him back my engagement ring and I said, “I’m sorry”. I drove off that morning and I haven’t seen him since.
It was a hot night for the beginning of September. I remember because I left the windows open, and the neighbor’s car alarm woke me up. I looked around in the apartment that I had shared with my former fiancé. We had broken up but were working on things. I got up off of the couch, looked at my phone and it was dead. I had no sense of what time it was. I walked down the dark hallway into my bedroom expecting to find Vinny lying in bed but he was nowhere to be found. “Vin?” I called around the apartment but got no response. I walked down the steps to the basement and found him sitting on the couch just staring into space with tears in his eyes.
This was a scene all too familiar to me. It’s the reason, why we had broken up in the first place. He had been home for two years from Afghanistan and yet felt like I was still waiting for him to come home. It was like being in a relationship with a ghost. Flashbacks and nightmares ruled our relationship. I couldn’t blame him, I couldn’t fight with him, all I ever did was just sit there in silence. He never talked about what went on over there, so I had no way to sympathize.
“Do you remember what happened?” I asked
“Yes, but I just don’t want to talk about it Kayleigh you know this”
It was then I began asking myself was this worth it to fix? I had gotten him into VA groups, taken him to therapy, encouraged him to take medication, taken the mental abuse from it all and I got nothing in return. My face became hot and tears started rushing down my face. I got into bed and tried my hardest to sleep. We woke up the next morning and as usual didn’t talk about anything. We went about our day we both went to work, after work I had school. It was my first night of English class. My car needed to be dropped off that night at the dealership so I had asked him to take me to and from school. We had gotten in a slight argument over our potential wedding on our way to class. I never thought anything of it. I got out of the car.
“I’ll see you at 9:30?” I said to him
“Yup. I’ll be here. Have a good class” He replied back as he kissed be goodbye.
Around 8:30 I texted him saying we were going to get out early. I knew he had taken my daughter out but I just assumed somewhere local and it wouldn’t be a big deal if it would be an hour earlier. As I walked out of school I called him to see where he was. It rang a few times before he forwarded it to voicemail. As I hung up I saw his car pull around with my daughter waving from the backseat. As soon as I got into the car I saw the look in his eyes. His eyes were filled with hate, and anger. Every time he got into this mood it was the same expression. I looked at him and said, “What is going on?”
“Don’t you know people have lives? I’m not just here to chauffer you around” He screamed at me.
He then began yelling about irrelevant bullshit that I blocked out, calling me names, cursing, screaming. This was all going on in front of my four year old. This was all because I got out of class early? As we pulled up to the corner of Cedar Grove Rd. and Springfield Rd., I told him to turn around. No faster had the words come out of my mouth then he had parked the car while in the middle of the street and got out. He began punching signs, screaming, kicking things. Meanwhile my daughter was terrified and screaming in the backseat. I hopped into the drivers seat and drove into the shopping center parking lot. He was lying on the ground crying and punching himself in the head. I was at a loss for what to do. Did I call the cops? Did I call his mother? Do I call his therapist? I knew I had to get my daughter away from the situation , God forbid something should happen to her.
I explained the situation to my dad and had him come pick me and my daughter up, and we stayed at my parents house. I left Vinny lying there in the parking lot by himself. I felt so guilty. I didn’t sleep at all that night, not for one minute. All night I though to myself, “Was he still there? Was he okay? Had I done the right thing?”. But then it finally hit me. Why am I responsible for fixing him? Why am I responsible for his happiness? I gave him all the resources to help him fix himself and yet he never used them. And finally, what kind of example would I be to my own child if I settled in a relationship like that? I didn’t want to show her that you have to fix people, or accept that it’s okay to be put down because its not.
The next day as I anticipated he called me apologizing. Saying, “He can’t control himself when he gets like that, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, and stupid shit makes him mad”. I told him we needed to talk in person and I would be on my way over shortly. I looked at my big beautiful engagement ring that I wore so proudly. I thought about our wedding (and all the money we had dumped into it already). I thought about every laugh, cry, smile, fight we ever had. I thought about how shitty I felt that after waiting for him to come home for so long that this was the end result. All the nights I stayed up waiting for a phone call, the Christmas I couldn’t talk to him because someone was killed on base and there was a blackout but they wouldn’t tell us who was killed, the anticipation of seeing him again. All of that went to shit.
I took my ring off and put it inside of its box, I gathered all things of his that I had from my house, I grabbed some trash bags and I drove to the apartment. As soon as I got out of the car I popped my trunk, he saw the bags, and he knew. Without saying a word to him I got all of his stuff out of my car with tears in my eyes. I looked at him one last time and handed him back my engagement ring and I said, “I’m sorry”. I drove off that morning and I haven’t seen him since.