1. Things Aren’t Always What They Seem
My Divorce Story
It’s hard to summon up the memories of my divorce in that it had so many phases, as did my short-lived marriage. We were married in a church mid-November but weren’t officially married till June? May? Somewhere in there. It begins, I suppose with the drugs. We moved to Allen in hopes of creating a new life for us- one away from my past for him, and one away from who I perceived I used to be for me. He wanted to escape the looming past relationship Phillip and I shared, and I (knowing Phillip and I were not right) thought it was just too convenient that Phil was there. I was never faithful to Jeremy so I thought if I moved I could be- after all, I was completely faithful to Phil. So we moved.
He had a good job and I had a decent one. Then I lost mine, and he lost his- it was a struggle to make things work. We did our best and somehow did; even now it’s really just a blur. Then he got arrested and began drinking. I was literally never sober within this 6 month period. Once he was out, he was able to get a job and things were as normal as they were ever to be.
Then I found out I was expecting. The look on Jeremy’s face when I told him was that of an animal trapped in a bear trap. Pain. I was excited, after all, Phil and I had made it on less and the happiest times we shared were while I was pregnant with my big boy.
With the new financial burden, I had a couple jobs. He, however, went from job to job mainly getting fired for incompetence or belligerence. He took up friendships with my sister’s friends and some of the older siblings and friends of friends – people I didn’t know, but knew enough to stay away from. They began to hang out at the house, and since we had a spare room and no money, a couple were roommates for a short period of time.
Then it began. There was a market for drug in Allen like no other. He knew of my connections in East Dallas since I mistakenly thought all honesty was what you needed to have with your partner. He and a friend began, at first, a weed market. I knew a grower and with my connections and their free time, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. The only other dealer was a son of a police officer and had bad drugs. We had good stuff and no cops- what’s not to love? Then it morphed into something else. The guys we let stay were inviting other friends, friends that had nothing to lose. These volatile relations caused so much drama- I kept asking- why are you allowing this in our home? When are you going to just work and bring home money like everyone else does? Why won’t you just live like other people live? Am I not enough to keep your attention?
He started selling cocaine. Again with my connections- this is entirely my fault for letting him know. I just didn’t want him going down and beating up people outside the check cashing place anymore. I was one of those people once, and it held a stronger negative feeling than my previous drug dealing days. Weed and coke are two different animals. Weed brings potheads who will never call before noon, drop by unexpectedly, and are just generally unreliable for anything but their business. Coke brings tweakers, skinny people who are rotting alive. They will call at all hours, even if they need nothing. They brought much chaos into our world- mostly because he kept trying to short them. I remember one girl in particular sitting on my couch as the boys were off fetching her stuff. She sat licking her upper lip and I offered her something to eat (since she was like 80 pounds and easily 5’10”) and she blew up at me in a nervous rage. I remained distant from him – I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want him to touch me. Often when he did, I would recoil back, slinking away from him.
Needless to say, there was no sex there. I am surprised my younger son is even here frankly. Our pitfall financially was a scheme played on me where someone sent me a few thousand dollars which cleared my bank then was proven to be a fake. It wasn’t just me, it was a bigger thing, but since he relied so much on my money and not making some himself, we soon didn’t have a house and were staying with my ex family. He continued in a limited fashion to sell drugs, leaving me and my older son to ponder where he was and what he was doing. The whole time there was this underlying condescension. I had then lost my job, I was 6 months along or so- so I was dead weight. I dreamed of having a baby and him coming to his senses. It was just a dream. He had a job at this time, but it was kind of jerky. He constantly was “about to make it” at whatever he was doing. At this point, I lost touch with what was going on. I saw the pit before me- I yelled at him for being such a big doofus, not being a provider.
This was when the marriage certificate I thought I had burned came back from the state sealed and signed. I thought I was going to die. I would quit chewing tobacco, even though I had quit smoking, he had pictures of girls on his phone (before I took a hammer to it) and was constantly flirting and acting promiscuous even though I was right there. This was the logic I used to cheat on him. He dismissed me and my opinions saying I was just a mother hen essentially. I had no street smarts. I didn’t know what I was talking about. We fought constantly.
Now it seems dumb to have even tried to make it work since I had even hit him (really hit him) within the first couple months for calling me some name…. He had put holes in the walls with his fist- stabbed knives in the walls when he found out I had slept with a neighbor. And constantly joking about the little sex we did have. That he had made my knees buckle (pft, passing out because you’re intoxicated is not the same as falling over from pleasure- he remains the worst sex I ever had) Always bragging to people we didn’t know that “Hollie likes my hot cock” which made me cringe AND die. I never knew why he always regarded me as property, something he didn’t have to respect or pay attention to, even though I was his best asset. I made more money, I took care of things and thanks to Phil, I knew how to commit crimes in a way that did not draw attention and inflicted minimal harm. I am no armed robber.
I was just about to move to the homeless shelter when he teamed up with his foe, Phillip, to lease an apartment. I was reluctant, knowing this was a false promise, knowing this was just going to end again. We moved in, still in Allen, and he promised to change his ways. Here was the catch: when he would leave, he would leave in my car and take my phone. I had no ability to contact the outside world. When he did get his own phone again (always with the prepaid bullshit!!!) he would take my battery so I was still unable to contact anyone. I had no ability to travel since there are no buses out in the suburbs, and couldn’t walk far with a two year old and pregnant no less. I grew lonely and halfway neurotic. When he was home, it was to sleep and eat and be ugly to my big boy. He loved to make fun of how gay he was going to be and how it was related to his inferior Mexican genes.
When he would leave, I knew it was really to do something illegal, and so I would die a little inside – knowing that if he didn’t return I would be left waiting – after all there was no way to contact me, no one knew where I was or even that I existed if he got shot someplace or arrested. He got a different car; a car I knew had to be a woman’s car. I knew I was not the only one, but felt helpless since what was I going to do? Leave? Where to? I haven’t visited my dad since I was twelve. My sons do not know him. My mom and I weren’t talking since he messed things up by stealing my cards and charging a bunch of shit on them. My ex family (family from my dad’s second marriage- they are who I was raised with) had just had enough of me since I had just come from living with them. All my resources were tapped; I had no money, nothing.
Finally there was a day- and I think of it as the pivotal moment for me. I had walked to a payphone to call Phillip. There was a notice on the door for nonpayment of the rent. They couldn’t talk to me since I wasn’t on the lease, so I called for him to come up and see what was what. Of course it hadn’t been paid, and I looked like death, so he stayed with me. He is still my best friend, and when I think of this day, I definitely soften towards him. He spent a day – maybe day and a half- holding me. He laid in bed with me so I could sleep since I had gotten so accustomed to sleeping next to someone, I often could not sleep since there was no one in bed with me. So he held me in bed, talked to me about things I had heard on NPR, anything to get my mind off the fire in my life. He held me on the couch as I cried, and cried and cried. Then Jeremy came back unexpectedly. He was obviously mad Phil was there, and of course in all his dramatic ways he stormed into the bedroom closet, throwing things down like he was going to leave. (He once put the barrel of a 12 gage in his mouth and threatened to pull the trigger- I should have told him to do it) I, being used to this dramatic shift from him was telling him to stop since, indeed, I had done nothing inappropriate and besides- he was the one not coming back ever, here and gone, I didn’t see him anymore; we didn’t share a bed let alone a life. AND DOUBLE BESIDES he was driving around in some other woman’s car! He kept going, throwing things down- and that’s when I REALLY hit him. I have never- and hopefully will never again- hit someone like that: right in the face, knocking his glasses off his face, breaking them into several pieces. He knew better than to hit me with Phillip there. So he left, just like that. I felt such relief when he left. Phillip stayed another night, consoling my anguish. I don’t know how I would have made if it weren’t for him. But of course Phillip had his life to get back to, so he left- the leasing people came to get something to hold while there rent was still overdue and decided my older son’s belongings were fair game. That was the last straw. I swallowed what little pride I had left and called my mother.
I was moved out with everything in storage in 3 days. All the mementos of our life together, I left along with his clothes. The only thing I took of his was a gift I had given him for his birthday that I made- a mosaic bedside table which had taken the better part of a week to but parts for and construct. Later I sold it, all the while cackling like a witch.
My mom and I hadn’t been on the best of terms, so moving in with her was hard. We couldn’t even meet each other half way since we didn’t even know where we were starting from. She let me take the bed and she slept on the couch while I was pregnant. I felt I didn’t belong there. What happened to being married? Where was I going to go? Would this child have a father? Certainly not. I looked into adoption. I wanted him so bad- unlike the first pregnancy- and I would cry at night knowing he was not to be my baby. I had everything arranged. Jeremy would call with more false promises, but I knew better than to believe them. I resented him for making me swallow that pride, why hadn’t he just gotten a job and stayed at it like a normal frickin husband?
Phillip surfaced again, and I adored him all the while. It complicated matters when he asked for another shot, but I hold firm on my “not going backward” rule. He offered a way to feel desired for sure- which I needed at that moment. Proof that the universe offers a way when you need one. He was now really close geographically and able to visit frequently, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I still felt trapped by not being able to move about, but I was in a place with buses and nearer to everything- I had an internet connection!!!!
I got curious one day- Jeremy had the internet on his phone which he spent a lot of time on- what was he doing all that time? Playing games? I didn’t think so. So I knew all his passwords- let’s face it, he’s not all that bright. So I logged on. I will never be prepared for what I saw. There was TONS of correspondence with women all over, several claiming to have kids with him. I wrote them all promptly, explaining my situation. Some responded kindly, most didn’t. One in Indiana was very nice, but very delusional. Before this point, it was just a suck ass situation that I would have to handle- this is where it became a train wreck. I went around like a zombie. When I slept, I slept on the couch since I was always up. I printed out all of his emails – some he was currently sending from his phone! I would log on compulsively, checking to see since he was still calling trying to convince me to play again. This is when I shattered. He could never come back from this. Financial mistakes I can deal with. But throwing my infidelity in my face for so long- giving me such shame- when all the while he was screwing them all…. I only went outside our relationship because he held out- he thought he had such power and besides, obviously I was a slut, that’s what chicks with kids are.
I stopped playing. I didn’t take his calls. I refused. The first few weeks were hard, but I got on just fine, eventually. I had my son. The adoption fell through since they couldn’t do it without his signature. My baby looked just like him, but I fell in love with the baby anyhow. We had a slight honeymoon period where he visited a few times, to see the baby. I daydreamed that he had learned his lesson and he daydreamed that I would return, his most valuable possession.
He had devised a plan where he would move me and the kids out to Bryan (?) Texas. It was a bogus idea, I’m not saying I even considered it seriously, but things with my mom were still weird. While she did offer support financially, and we talked more, she was still the woman I raged against, and I couldn’t get past it. My world was small, as all people with babies is. I wanted Jeremy to be right. Then he got arrested.
He was in Collin County for a long while. Arrested in late January- I filed for Divorce on Valentine’s Day. He got out in March and I had him served in April. I say I had him served like it was no big deal. He disappeared after he got out- out to Zachary TX, worked at a Tex Mex restaurant. I lured him back into town, even going to pick him up at the greyhound station. I told him I wouldn’t have our son with me since we needed to talk. I led him to believe I had “come to my senses” and was going to come back. I took him out to eat and screwed him. Made sure it looked like we were going to get back together for sure- then we were “going to the mall” when I stopped off in a parking lot, to meet my grandma who had our son. That’s where I had the server meet me. I made sure to crush his heart like he had crushed mine, and it was only the beginning. I killed him in court. Our divorce decree is horrible for him. He has to pay child support but has no visitation rights. He assumed all our debt (tell it to Experian, they don’t give a SHIT) and all responsibility. Probably the only time he’s ever taken responsibility in his life.
We had a brief post-relationship relationship but mostly, I was just desperate for male attention since I didn’t feel so desirable. Soon I lost weight and he was back out. I like to think I ran over him twice, but in reality it was probably more than that. There is no one else whom I love to hate as much as him.
The truth is though, I don’t think about him anymore. He’s part of my past and he stays there. Phillip too. I never loved Jeremy, which I am sure of. Even a slight adoration would have spared him my ruthlessness. I took everything from the man and when he had no more I stabbed him emotionally, leaving scars and amputations. Phillip I was mean to, left him with very little, but regretted it the whole time- not that that consoled him any obviously… Phillip I may have not loved, but I respected him. I loved him- but I wasn’t in love with him but for a short time. When we first started out on our own, when Phil wasn’t around, or I didn’t know when I was going to see him next, it was like going without air. Jeremy I pondered the legal and financial s- I didn’t worry if he got shot for his sake.
My divorce was pursued only by me. Lots of factors, including infidelity, led to it. It could not have been prevented. Everything is so much better now that it is over and I can live my life again.