Where Angels Fear To Tread... Building a Permanent Relationship From the Foundation of Domestic Abuse.

When I met him, (I will call him Leroy), for the first time, my world changed forever. He looked at me, smiled held the door open and told me to have a great afternoon. I smiled back and the feeling of a missing piece inside me clicking gently into place spread through my heart. I knew this person I have never seen before, and I knew him well.

We didn't see each other again for a few weeks, and then one afternoon, we met again. Leroy worked with my husband, and was one of the guys he hung out with after work. My husband had suggested that I meet with him and the guys for a few beers and I did. That was the beginning of a new relationship. Leroy and I quickly became close friends and talked about issues we were having with our spouses at the time. Neither one of us was happy in our respective relationships, nor was it nice to have someone else we could commiserate with that understood the need to vent. We continued to build our friendship for three years.

I knew he was interested and all I had to do was give him a sign that his interest in me was returned, but I was trying so hard to salvage a doomed marriage. After three years, my marriage issues came to a head and I could not fool myself anymore--it was finally over, I was done. I was out of love, patience and the marriage was out of time. It was time to leave and start over. I was ready to file for a divorce.

When I told Leroy, he didn't say much. But he did give me an odd look and changed the subject. Later on, he told me he had also made the decision to call it quits with his wife. He could not take any more of her religious obsession, condemnation and snide remarks. We drank a few more beers and parted for the night.

A couple days later, I got in a huge fight with my husband and took off in my car to drive around and cool off. I pulled into the gas station and Leroy was there gassing up his own rig. When asked what I was doing, I told him and he suggested grabbing a few beers and heading up to our drinking spot. I agreed, knowing that venting to him would make me feel better.

We talked, complained, sympathized and went on to happier subjects. When it cooled off too much to sit outside, we went and sat in his truck. I was telling him about the horse I was training at the time when he grabbed my hand, looked at me and said, "See what you do to me." And cradling it under his placed it on the crotch of his Levis. As soon as I felt how hard and ready he was, I lost it-over, and over, and over again. I had never had such amazing, hot, needy, and fulfilling sex before, and never had it felt so right.

I had never cheated on anyone before and was unprepared for the remorse and guilt. I arrived home at 6:00am and started packing my belongings. I moved into my own place that day. My husband was upset that I would not try yet one more time to work things out; I couldn't tell him I was hot and heavy with one of his friends. He knew I was out of love and we agreed to divorce.

Leroy and I spent every waking moment, and some sleeping ones as well together. We went out of town, he stayed at my place sometimes and we still went driving to our spot. He told me he loved me and I got scared. He was still married. I did not want to do this, be in this situation and still--it felt so right. He completed me, fulfilled me, made my life complete. On our one month anniversary as an illicit couple, he moved in and filed for a divorce. Once his papers were filed, we came out as a couple. There was so much conflict and strife from the people who knew us, but we managed to come through that time together. Our love was so deep and strong, so right and complete so powerful. He was my soul mate, my other half, my destiny and future and he felt the same for me.

The first time we argued was a shock. I didn't realize he had such a temper and to be jealous over a 68 year old man who just wanted me to teach him to email his grandchildren was ludicrous. He was so angry and unrelenting, so enraged so dark. Of course, secure in our love, I tried to explain and when that didn't work I got angry, too. This happened a few times over the next month, but the making up!! Oh, talk about heights of passion! And he was always so apologetic afterward, sweet and spoiling me with attention and small gifts.

When he pushed me the first time, we had been together for almost six months. In that time, I gave up some of my friendships with other guys, decided to spend more time with Leroy instead of my old friends and learned that his temper was not going to mellow out. Even some of the stupidest, simplest things would set him off. I honestly did not think too much about it, just figured he would mellow out after we worked through the minor kinks in our new and powerful relationship.

Then it happened. We were in the middle of what I thought was a friendly argument, when he got up, turned red and pushed me hard enough to make me slide on the carpet when I fell. Immediately, he started apologizing and had tears in his eyes. He couldn't believe he had done that to me. It didn't happen again for a while, but he became verbal. Not in a blatant way, but subtly tearing me down and eroding my confidence.

The night I heard my heart break, he came tearing into the game room and grabbed me by the back of my head. He kept shouting at me, asking me who I was talking to. There was no one there and I told him that, he kept saying he heard me talking to someone and to stop lying. I went blank; I could not understand what was going on. He beat my face against the doorknob of the bedroom until there was blood on the ceiling, all over the walls and it looked like someone had been murdered on the carpet. When he was done, he threw me on the floor and left the room. I crawled out the back door of the house and into the garage, where I sat listening to my heart break. Wondering what I had done to deserve that and not believing it had really happened.

The next morning, he came out to the garage to get in his car to go looking for me. I was sitting right there and was so hurt, felt so broken and was so disbelieving. After all, that would never happen to me, I would never put up with any abuse. No way!! No how!! He had tears in his eye when he explained that he was drunk, out of his mind and was so sorry--it would never happen again. And what would I do without him? Where would I go and how could I support myself and my daughter? Luckily, my daughter was at her dad's the previous night. Then he told me he had planned a special surprise for us, to regroup and get our love and relationship back on track. And I believed him.

The verbal brainwashing is so subtle, so sneaky and so damaging. You die inside one little piece at a time without realizing that just like a jigsaw puzzle, all those pieces connect to make a whole. By the time you realize what has happened, it does not matter anymore, the damage has been done--they own you. Your flame has turned to ash and you are only a shell of the person you used to be-your abuser has turned you into an empty vessel and the flame of hope and trust has died. Crushed by them as an ember under their shoe.

Then the threats start, the fear is firmly entrenched and you know that if you try to leave, he will kill you when he finds you. And he will find you--just try it and see. The physical abuse continues, escalates--they know they have you now, that you are theirs, that you are owned. Lock, stock and barrel.

In between the abuse and arguments are the good times. The fun, adventurous, happy and memorable times. We laughed, we played and we had some incredible days--moments I will cherish for a lifetime!! He is still my best friend, my confidant my lover and eventually, my husband. When he was good, he was very, very good...but when he was bad, he became my worst nightmare!

The amazing highs allowed our love to grow and form a bond, and the sad, crushing blows of abuse continued to reign over the next seven years. I was embarrassed, ashamed and dispirited with my situation. I had enough pride left that I hid the abuse from everyone, I was too ashamed of myself for allowing it to happen and continue to ask for help. I was embarrasses because even after all the abuse, I still truly loved Leroy, still wanted our life together--when he was sober and good. I was horrified at the thought of someone finding out and trying to 'rescue' me.

But most of all, I was scared. Scared of the judgments people make of abused women. Scared of the unknown without Leroy in my life, scared I could not make it without him, scared I could, but most of all, scared of what would happen when he hunted me down and found me. I had lost myself, and honestly, I was past the point of caring. I just endured until he was sober, survived the storm and existed to do his will. And I did.