I’ve been purging somethings that I’ve mainly kept to myself for almost twenty years now. Rhondi knows a lot of this because when we finally got together in March of 2005, I was in a pretty bad place, and she was there to help me put the pieces back together. For that, I am forever grateful because it took many years.
Things with the nameless one had really come to a head beginning in the third or fourth month we lived together. I had tried to commit myself to her when we moved in and part of me thought we were going to do something special together. As a person, I liked her that much and believed she was who she said she was. I was very wrong on this.
A couple of things had come to my attention over those first few months. One was that a neighbor asked/told me about the police dude. He kind of casually let it drop that I should probably know there was another guy hanging around sometimes. I had my suspicions, based on being around them a bit during our meetings at the organization we were all involved in, but the nameless one always had a reason why I was just being unnecessarily jealous.
I was also being fed some information that was super disturbing about her. She had told me that she was horribly abused by a former boyfriend, and I found out it was the other way around. I also found out she had two other kids that she had abandoned from her first husband (who I was never told about by her). This information came from a very reliable source, so I started trying to figure out how to extricate myself from the situation.
One night, my friend Justin was in town and asked me to meet him and another old classmate from grade school for a beer at Dizzy’s on 7th Street and Glendale. While I was there, the nameless one was convinced that I was with Shannon or some other girl and started sending me terrible text messages about how when I got home, my cat (June) and dog (Scarlet) will have been let out. I think I got about 50 messages from her within 90 minutes.
This was right around the time she started destroying my paintings and other belongings.
I began sleeping downstairs on the couch and told her I was going to look for a new place. She claimed she couldn’t afford the house on her own (she could) so I offered to stay until the lease was up at the end of February. She tried to reconcile with me, but it was all fake.
The worst of it was New Year’s Eve, 2004. At one point, I had to kind of barricade myself in the downstairs bathroom with the dog and cat because she was trying to attack me. She hit me several times over those last couple of months and made all kinds of threats about how she was going to fuck up my life the way I had fucked up hers.
Eventually, I shared with my mom what was going on and we planned for me to get out of there and move into the house she had recently purchased from grandparents once it was remodeled. I was going to help with the remodeling, and it would work out for everyone. That house was kind of gutted at the time, so it was not quite livable in February when I really needed it.
Towards the end of February, the nameless one had a work thing out of town, so I made my escape. I arranged with Shannon, who was aware of what I was going through, to move back in with her and Ryan for three months until my new place was livable. It was, in a way, jumping from the frying pan back into the fire, but at least living with Shannon temporarily was a stress and strain I could more easily predict. I honestly thought the nameless one might hurt me more than she had.
When the nameless one got back to town and found an empty house, she accused me of bailing on her. She told all our mutual acquaintances that I was a horrible person and a liar and had left her high and dry money-wise, too. I had not, of course, and spent a good chunk of my savings at the time to make sure that all bills were covered for her and such. It essentially ruined my relationship with an organization I loved and had worked with for about seven years at the time and sullied a few good friendships I had built there.
She and her husband were back together within a few weeks. I’m guessing the cop was bummed, but maybe not. Maybe they were still a thing. At that point, I couldn’t have cared less. I was so relieved to be away from her.
The nameless one was, and probably still is, very convincing. She comes off as one of the coolest, most genuine people you will ever want to meet if she wants you to like her. It’s frightening. I’ve seen her out a few places over the last 17 years and it always sends a goddamn chill through me. She looks through me like I am not there. Perhaps to her, I have never even existed.
The last time we spoke, I told her I was never going to speak to her again and I haven’t. I did send a letter of apology to her husband after I moved out. I explained that I would have never moved in with her if I had known the truth and assured him I would never attempt to contact her or him again. I kind of poured it all out there in a few paragraphs and I’ve never really looked back.
At one point, when I was seeing her every few months at the Target near my home, I wanted to just say, “Hey, I forgive you” but I never got the chance. I have forgiven her, but I also know her well enough that it would just eat at her to hear me say that. That would be breaking my word, though, and I’m glad I’ve never been in a situation where I had to speak to her. If I ever am, that’s all I will say to her… “I forgive you.”
Two and a half weeks later, Rhondi and I would meet for a beer on St. Patrick’s Day and that was that.
See you tomorrow.
This is what I was skating in 2004. This is a good memory from that year.