garage and lock the door. That didn’t stop him, though. He’d come to the door and threaten to break the window to my car if I didn’t get out.
Let me just say that Tommy was a nice guy, but he let his dark side take over. He never fully recovered from losing his mother and brother at a young age. All of this was his coping mechanism and in the end, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. Also, I didn’t deserve it.
Back in 2005, Tommy and I took a trip to California to visit my family. It was the first time he met my parents and everyone. I remember being so excited. Unfortunately, most of the trip was terribly awkward.
During part of it, we took a weekend to stay in Catalina Island, which is a boat ride across from Newport Beach near Los Angeles. We had a friend who was working there for the summer, so we got a special rate on our hotel.
All was great until the first night when Tommy got piss -ass drunk. He started screaming and flailing his arms at me in our hotel room because he didn’t understand a joke I had made toward his friend. He kept grabbing my arms and pushing me all over the room, screaming god knows what in a drunken stupor. Several times he threw me to the ground. I was horrified and I ended up calling my step mother in tears.
Unfortunately, another guest in the hotel called the cops on us because, apparently, we were making a lot of noise. Between his yelling and my crying, I’m not surprised. The cops came to our door, and I had to stifle my crying long enough to convince them that everything was ok and that I wasn’t in any danger.
I had no idea if I was still in danger with Tommy, but I couldn ’t have him getting arrested, right? Ah, the mindset of a young woman . Or, at least mine. Hopefully, there are much smarter women than I was.
I remember some of my friends in San Diego telling me that I appeared “off” or “strange” when I visited them. When I pushed them to explain what that really meant, they said that the personality they had grown to love in me seemed stifled, or completely gone. They were worried about me, and it seems that they had a good reason to.
My relationship with Tommy was obviously toxic. Good riddance that it’s done and over with now, because I’m really not sad about it at all. The day we decided we were over was the day that I felt rejuvenated and independent again.
Our sex life had been terrible due to all of his verbal abuse. He would mock me and tear me down. I think that for the last year of our relationship, we didn ’t have sex a single time. Not a good sign for a relationship, I think.
I can ’t blame it all on Tommy. I came to him damaged. I had been raped right before I had moved to Indiana. Not just by one guy, but by three. I’m just a petite little thing, so being overwhelmed by three large guys isn’t such a hard feat. Bastards.
I had gone to a “party” a band was having that my friend Tara had asked me to drive her to. I was only newly 19 and was up for any kind of partying. I’m not (and wasn’t then, either) a big drinker, and I did call my step mom that night to tell her I would be drinking and probably would be staying the night at the party. I wasn’t a hugely irresponsible person, so she had no reason to not trust me.
There were four guys in the band, and we all drank, drank, and drank. After a few hours, my friend Tara decides it ’s a great idea to head to the store with one of the band mates to grab some snacks. Seemed harmless at the time but hindsight is a motherfucker.
One of the guys was actually pretty attractive. I don ’t even remember what he looks like anymore, to be honest. I just remember he seemed sweet and innocent, and I liked that. He told me he was a virgin. I wasn’t, so I thought it was adorable.
After we felt that our flirting had progressed fast enough, we were soon making out. All of it seems pretty harmless. If I remember correctly, he was a good kisser. That part was fun. The fun stopped
Let me just say that Tommy was a nice guy, but he let his dark side take over. He never fully recovered from losing his mother and brother at a young age. All of this was his coping mechanism and in the end, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. Also, I didn’t deserve it.
Back in 2005, Tommy and I took a trip to California to visit my family. It was the first time he met my parents and everyone. I remember being so excited. Unfortunately, most of the trip was terribly awkward.
During part of it, we took a weekend to stay in Catalina Island, which is a boat ride across from Newport Beach near Los Angeles. We had a friend who was working there for the summer, so we got a special rate on our hotel.
All was great until the first night when Tommy got piss -ass drunk. He started screaming and flailing his arms at me in our hotel room because he didn’t understand a joke I had made toward his friend. He kept grabbing my arms and pushing me all over the room, screaming god knows what in a drunken stupor. Several times he threw me to the ground. I was horrified and I ended up calling my step mother in tears.
Unfortunately, another guest in the hotel called the cops on us because, apparently, we were making a lot of noise. Between his yelling and my crying, I’m not surprised. The cops came to our door, and I had to stifle my crying long enough to convince them that everything was ok and that I wasn’t in any danger.
I had no idea if I was still in danger with Tommy, but I couldn ’t have him getting arrested, right? Ah, the mindset of a young woman . Or, at least mine. Hopefully, there are much smarter women than I was.
I remember some of my friends in San Diego telling me that I appeared “off” or “strange” when I visited them. When I pushed them to explain what that really meant, they said that the personality they had grown to love in me seemed stifled, or completely gone. They were worried about me, and it seems that they had a good reason to.
My relationship with Tommy was obviously toxic. Good riddance that it’s done and over with now, because I’m really not sad about it at all. The day we decided we were over was the day that I felt rejuvenated and independent again.
Our sex life had been terrible due to all of his verbal abuse. He would mock me and tear me down. I think that for the last year of our relationship, we didn ’t have sex a single time. Not a good sign for a relationship, I think.
I can ’t blame it all on Tommy. I came to him damaged. I had been raped right before I had moved to Indiana. Not just by one guy, but by three. I’m just a petite little thing, so being overwhelmed by three large guys isn’t such a hard feat. Bastards.
I had gone to a “party” a band was having that my friend Tara had asked me to drive her to. I was only newly 19 and was up for any kind of partying. I’m not (and wasn’t then, either) a big drinker, and I did call my step mom that night to tell her I would be drinking and probably would be staying the night at the party. I wasn’t a hugely irresponsible person, so she had no reason to not trust me.
There were four guys in the band, and we all drank, drank, and drank. After a few hours, my friend Tara decides it ’s a great idea to head to the store with one of the band mates to grab some snacks. Seemed harmless at the time but hindsight is a motherfucker.
One of the guys was actually pretty attractive. I don ’t even remember what he looks like anymore, to be honest. I just remember he seemed sweet and innocent, and I liked that. He told me he was a virgin. I wasn’t, so I thought it was adorable.
After we felt that our flirting had progressed fast enough, we were soon making out. All of it seems pretty harmless. If I remember correctly, he was a good kisser. That part was fun. The fun stopped
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