The Final Straw (Lucky: Part 3)

I left off in the Lucky series sharing about a fight we had when things got kind of crazy and I was throwing my belongings off of the balcony, making my escape plans. I ended up leaving, heartbroken. I grieved over the next couple days, but started accepting his calls again. Once again, I went back, hanging onto all of the promises.

A lot happened in a short period of time. That incident took place the day after Christmas. He joined my mom, family, and a few friends for my surprise 18th birthday party the first week of January. I completed the required credits to graduate high school on January 30th. I moved out on January 31st.

I moved in with him. We got the one bedroom apartment right across the hallway from the apartment he shared with my co-worker. I ended up quitting that job to move onto a better one. I was actually working 3 jobs – I worked in a call center during the day, then went to deliver pizzas for Little Caesars at night, and sold candles on the side.

I lost touch with a lot of my friends. They weren’t really fans of our relationship and we were all living very different lives. The ones who had already graduated were off building their lives. The ones still in school were being teenagers.

We ended up having his son quite a bit, so I also played stepmom to the toddler and took care of the usual cooking and cleaning duties in my home. That didn’t leave too very much time for “us.” He was out of work at the time, as he worked in the construction field and got laid off during the slow season.

Looking back, I can imagine that didn’t help his mental health any. Neither of us had lived with a partner, so not being able to properly provide for his son or household was probably a shot at his manhood. I wasn’t at a place to understand that, though.

Our arguments were bad. I don’t even remember what they were about honestly. I know some were insecurities on his part. Some were probably insecurities on my part. By the end of March, less than two months after we had moved in together, it had gotten physical. He put his hands on me. Our arguments and fights were volatile. There was so much history and hurt between us already.

I remember one of the worst nights pretty clearly. I was exhausted and had to be at work by 7am the next day. We were having a storm, and it was cold. I was already in bed, naked. He ripped all the covers off of me and had the window open. He refused to turn on the heater. He had a metal baseball bat in his hands, walking back and forth so I couldn’t go anywhere. I was in one corner of the room on the bed.

I went back and forth between quietly sobbing, pleading, screaming, and everything in between. At some point I was able to get under the covers and get an hour or so of sleep before having to go to work. I was astonished at his behavior. I got very sick that night.

He threatened me with a gun on another occasion. It was escalating, rather quickly. 

I realized it wasn’t working at all. We talked and decided to split up at the very end of March. We wanted to do things right, and neither wanted to go “home” to our parents/grandparents. We agreed to live together for April so that we could each find a place. I would sleep in the bedroom since the bed came with me, and he would sleep in the living room on the pullout sofa, since that came with him.

His cousin asked me to go to an 18 and up nightclub with her, since I had a car. I decided it wouldn’t hurt. We had a great night. I did meet someone, who bought me a drink and treated me really nice. I felt like he listened. He was respectful and a little shy and bashful. I was smitten. He did give me his pager number and walked me to my car that night.

I went home and continued my regular routine, trying to avoid Lucky. Our interactions weren’t pleasant and seemed to be getting worse as the days went on. I was feverishly looking for my own apartment and counting the days until the end of the month.