When I met D, he was just a BIG FLIRT.
We agreed to have a friends with benefits type of relationship but soon it grew into something more. He was in my home state all by himself. He knew no one, yet he confided in me and told me the most personal things about him. Slowly I grew to like him as more than a friend, and he did too. One day when I went to go pick him up from a bar, he was upset with me because I wouldn't text back, but my phone had died. He had taken pills and was drinking, which made him very intoxicated. He began choking me and pulling my hair, but I dismissed the incident. At the same time, he told me he loved me and I pitied him for feeling depressed from his parent's deaths.
From then after, we made it official and started dating. I sorta moved in with him; some of my stuff at his place, but most at my dad's. We spent almost every moment together, and, yet, I started feeling this sense of jealosy from him. He'd think I was talking to people on my phone when I have almost no friends and a little addicted to social media. When we would argue about petty stuff, it was difficult for me to open up and he started yelling. It made me feel scared but I knew he wouldn't hurt me. I always threatened to leave but he said no like I didn't have an option. To me it was him proving how much me loved me by not giving up in the relationship.
Those fights soon started the name calling (bitch, hoe, dirty dog, disgusting, selfish). It hurt so much to hear this and I even believed it and believed I deserved it. He didn't have any trust in me no matter how faithful I was and no matter how honest I was being. One day I was getting up to leave and in a quick motion he grabbed my neck and pulled back my hair and I screamed. It all went so fast I started crying hard and he was apologizing, saying he'd never do it again. It was a scary experience for me but nothing close to what would happen in the next couple months. Despite being pregnant, the verbal abuse didn't stop. Although he rarely put his hands on me, the verbal harassment hurt equally. My self esteem plummeted; I already low self esteem and it just got worse.
I never would argue with him. I'd simply cry and not say a word about my feelings. Finally, I had enough. I started yelling back at him and he'd call me a stupid bitch, but I just didn't care anymore. I forgot to mention, but he has a drinking problem. He knows when to stop but he drinks beer like water. So one day when he came to pick me up after we had a discussion about when he was supposed to pick me up. I walked over to the church he pulled into by where I started to walk home. He accused me of lying saying I was really hanging out with friends instead of studying like I said. He kept calling me names and started shoving his phone in my face to show me the texts. He swung his phone at my lip several times. Then I tried to hit him once, he slapped his hand on my face, causing my glasses to break, then he began choking me and pulling back my hair. I began to cover up my face as he swung at me. Then he finally stopped and I tried to get out of the car when he pulled my hair back, forcing me to lay down, squeezing my hand so I wouldn't move. When I screamed he told me to shut up because it didn't hurt and he kept asking why I provoked him. When he got home, he said if you try to find someone else I'm going to tell them you have an STD. Then he kept tellig me I provoked him.
Eventually he started crying and feeling remorseful.. We both grew up with parents that went through domestic violence. He even defended his mom when she was being attacked. So for him to hit me was appalling.
I had no words. He promised he wouldn't do it again and this time he left me with a swollen lip, bruised to my left cheek, neck and left hand. I know this story may not make sense. It happened just two days ago and I've packed up and left. I never thought I'd be a victim like my mom but I was. I haven't spoken to my mother in a while and for several reasons but at that moment I felt so alone. I had no one. But I didn't want her to see me like that.
My wounds are healing and I hope to move past this with the new year.