And I have every right to be. This is my life and I have a right to say what I have to say.
Well, now that that ominous disclaimer has been thrown out there, I'm not sure if you all saw my post The Fool, but the profile named above left a comment on that post that read:
He was married a second time and it was a contract marriage. None of the family knew until the day before the funeral. She was at the funeral, but stayed in the background to spare you any more pain. She didn't even know he was dead until days before the funeral, that's how much they were a 'couple'. He filed for a divorce a week before he died. He loved YOU.
Haha.....that.....I can't even tell you how much that comment did NOT make me feel better. I'll have you know that after I read that, I cried so hard that I had to leave work and go talk to my cousin for the better part of two hours. So hard that my father debated driving to come get me to take me home. Ripped in half. Disgusted. Confused. Ruined. That's what that comment did. I clearly can't have any part of this to be mine. At all. And I thought about it and I knew EXACTLY what this girl looked like. I remember clear as day turning around to watch the processional (of his remains in a fucking gift box, which I was not told that was happening until AFTER the funeral), and I saw a girl there who I did not recognize. At that moment, I remember feeling my warning bells go off. Who is that girl? I've never seen her before. Why is she here by herself? And I made note that day that I hadn't seen her at the reception. And I've never seen her again. I mean, why would I have those feelings that day? Now everything makes perfect sense.
The balls of that girl. I mean....I can't get over it. The complete and utter gall to even THINK that she should have been there. To watch my skin scream to try to keep me together. To try to keep me from falling to pieces on the floor. To know that she was LEGALLY Chris' wife when I had his ring on my finger. And what; am I supposed to THANK her for keeping away from me to "spare pain"? Thank you, dear mystery wife of Chris. Thank you for doing your part in this yarn of lies. Thank you for staring me in the eye as you plunged yet another knife into my still-beating heart. What's left of it. Thank you for ruining another part of Chris that I so desperately clung to. I can't thank you enough.
Now, when did he marry this girl you ask? According to my very reliable source, he married her about two weeks before he met me. Here's the kicker. When he told me that he had been married before, I asked him very thorough questions. I asked when the divorced was finalized and if there were any children. I also asked if there was anything else he needed to tell me and he said that he was SUPPOSED to marry this girl for a contract marriage, but he met me and went back to Arizona and told her that he couldn't go through with it. Apparently when he went back to Arizona, he told her he didn't want to do it and filed for divorce and the bitch was being difficult and wouldn't sign papers. He thought that everything had been taken care of when he was shipped off to Iraq. But it wasn't since he found out three weeks before he died that he was still married. So, he deliberately lied.
Now, if THAT isn't enough, another layer of the onion has been torn off.
Chris cheated.
I'm not disclosing how many times but it was a handful. But, does it really matter how many? The fact is, he cheated. I've never been cheated on....that I know of. Now, I question everything. Every gift, every endearing word, every touch. I mean, who else wouldn't cheat on me if the one person I loved with my very being, who I was planning on spending my life with would?
How do I know for sure, you ask? Hindsight is always 20/20 my friends.
- A few months prior to all this nonsense, I had felt like I was losing Chris. I didn't know why, but I did. I thought that maybe it was because I had lost a bunch of weight. I know it sounds silly, but, I thought that because I looked different, even though it was for the better, that it created some sort of wedge. Things were just different and I'm very much the type that if there is something different then maybe I'm the one not doing enough. So dumb, I know, but I just wanted to make everything better.
- He started drinking more. A lot more. Granted, that could have been attributed to all the stress he was under, keeping up with all the lying he was doing.
- It started to become more difficult for him to come up for wedding stuff. He would give me reasons why he couldn't come up, even though he knew they were important.
- I was going to surprise him and drive to GA to visit him and when I told him, he talked me out of it. I had a bit of a medical issue around that time and he used that to his advantage.
- I'm not ashamed to say that I have had HPV before. I mean, seriously, who hasn't? I got it from my first serious boyfriend yeeeeears ago and haven't tested positive for it in 3 years. When I went for my yearly check up in May, I had such a flare that my doctor called to tell me that it came back positive. Again, I turned it all on myself and thought "How could this happen?! I've never tested positive for it while with Chris! How can my body be doing this?". I cried because I was so concerned.
That last reason makes me feel ashamed of myself. Why didn't I trust my gut and why on earth would I make that positive test my fault? Infidelity never crossed my mind. I mean, I didn't think he had the time. He really had me fooled.
And then recently when I was trying to fall asleep, you know, that time when your brain likes to drop little memory nuggets on you to keep you up at all hours. I remembered something that I had completely brushed off.
I found the evidence in front of his family.
After Chris' belongings were shipped to his family, they had me over to go through his stuff. He had a blanket of mine that my deceased grandmother made for me when I was born as well as countless gifts and movies. Well, as we're all sitting together in the living room, I find a pair of these tacky ass hoop earrings with dangling feathers on them. I picked them up and my face went crimson and hot. I asked everyone, "Whose earrings are these?" and everyone just assumed they were mine. Which, c'mon. Do I look like the type who would wear feathery hoop earrings? I wish I still had them to show you because they were AWFUL! But in that moment, my stomach was in that throat and the world went from beneath my feet. But I talked myself out of it. I thought, "There's no way in hell. When would he have had the time? I would've known. He couldn't have done that to me". And I didn't think of that again. Until now.
Now, the rage that happened was a three level rage.
- Level 1: Rage that it happened.
- Level 2: Rage that it happened in front of his family.
- Level 3: That this bitch was probably tacky as all hell. I mean, I taught him to have MUCH better taste than that! Taste in fashion translates to taste in women. I TAUGHT HIM TO LIKE BOWTIES FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
I can't even begin to explain to you how Italian I handled this situation. The night I found all this out, I laughed hysterically. I didn't stop laughing for 2 days. I laughed so much that everyone around me was nervous to talk to me. God bless my father because he knew exactly what I needed. That night he went to go to bed and I said "Before you go to bed, do we have access to a hammer?" "Why?", he asked. "Because I think I need to break something before I go to bed so I don't cry". So, up he got and headed outside. I went up to my room to grab the thing I wanted to break: an engagement gift from Chris' grandparents. It was a picture that I had taken that they had matted and framed. Smashing this would be releasing anger for Chris and his grandmother. Because, as you've seen, she's a nutjob (and that's the nicest thing I can call her). So, I went outside and my dad meets me and says, "Okay. So, we have the hammer (lifts hammer) but with this you have to get closer to what you want to hit and you'll get glass in your face. But with this baseball bat (lifts bat), you'll use more of your body and you'll be farther away".
I grabbed the shit out of that bat.
He put down a big poster board and laid the picture face down. He says something about whenever I was ready but before he could even get the sentence out, I had already swung and slammed the tip of that louisville slugger into the back of that photo. Glass smashed, the frame crunched, and I felt glorious. By the time I was done it was hard to tell it used to be a picture. I believe my dad told me he was impressed, haha.
 |
| That's what was left when I was done. |
After that I became incensed. I went up to my room and just started tearing things apart and throwing things in piles. I took out every picture I had framed in my room, fished out every memento I had hidden and pulled out three shirts I had saved that smelled like him. I tore everything apart with my bare hands. The last thing I did was grab a shirt of his that I had saved in a plastic bag. It had the most of his essence left and I have to be honest, I had to pause to think about whether or not I wanted to destroy it. What if I needed it for a day that I got really sad? What if I regret it? But then I thought, if I don't do it now I won't ever do it. And aren't I sad already? Why would I want to take comfort in something/someone who regarded me as nothing. As the 'ol "ball and chain" back in Maryland. The ghost of a fiance. So I grabbed the front of his collar and I relished the sound of the fibers tearing. I finally had an organic sound to what the sound of my heart had made. It felt good.
I haven't really cried since I found out. Up until recently I hadn't cried at all. I was too angry. Too disgusted. I'm still both of those things but I'm starting to feel more. I still don't understand and I will never understand. I have been the most hurt in this situation and all I did was love him unconditionally. All I did was be the best woman, the best partner, the best friend, the best person I could be and everything that can be taken from me has been taken from me. And not only that, I have been accosted and harassed publicly for nothing. For loving him.
I'm partially thankful for this happening. It gave me the final push to help me move on. I'm in the process of selling my engagement ring so that I'm able to leave this place. Many people have asked me if that was something I really wanted to do. If I really wanted to get rid of something so beautiful. I assure them that it is. It is beautiful. It is a beautiful reminder of a broken promise. A promise that has been broken time and time again.
I know this post is going to worry you, but really, I'm okay. I needed time to write this. I wanted to write as soon as I found out but it would have been a lot different. And please, if you have the means to do so, contact me only if it is something positive. As I stated before, if you only want to make comments or "say your piece", save it. Save your time, save your data, save your breath. Because I will not hear it.
I am done.
