That's What I Get

Hey There,


I realize this is probably a big wtf moment but I just wanted to say hello. You know as much you probably don't believe it, I regret how things wound up transpiring between us. Please do not misunderstand the intention of this message, as it is not an attempt to try to re-enter your life in any way. But I really do have a high opinion of you still and I don't want any ill thoughts or feelings if my name comes up in a room. I still ask Lisa how you are all the time. Anyhow, I don't expect a response back. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry for the way I acted in the past and I wish you the best.


Sincerely,
Matthew J


This is the random Facebook message that appeared in my Facebook Inbox this evening. I suppose now would be a great time to explain a bit of who and what Matthew J is/was to me.

I wish there was a short version to this- But there isn't. Matter of fact, it's hella long.

Back when Robert and I first started hanging out again, I was recovering from a very painful breakup (as was he). This breakup was between Kevin and I. The reason Kevin and I broke up is because he claimed we never had time to be around each other anymore, and I was always busy. This was not the case.

The case was this: I was working at Slapsticks Bar at night, and Olive Garden a few days a week. Kevin worked and went to school. I was living alone (Megan and I had moved apart) because Kevin, at the very last second, decided not to move in with me. That was the plan, after all, to move in together. At Slapsticks, just about every Friday and Saturday night was a Clintondale reunion of some sort. One night I ran into Lisa, Shannon, and Matthew. Matthew was a guy in High School that I thought was cute and funny and charming and "ha ha ha ohmygodhetalkedtome". That was the last thing on my mind when I saw them all, but we ended up starting to hang out regularly.

Kevin made it pretty clear to me that he never wanted to really meet or hang out with my friends. So it never happened. Kevin eventually decided I was cheating on him and left me. So in turn to that, I look at my situation and basically my (stupid) thought train was "Well let's see if this is even worth it."

It was not.

Obviously I didn't want to get into anything too serious. Kevin and I had been dating a long time, and the sudden breakup had me in shambles. I wanted to take everything slow, see how things played out, see if worked for me. Looking back at it all, I kind of want to slap my Past Self in the face and figure out what the fuck I stuck around for.

Everything started out great. It really did. Matt was sweet, charming, and very much a gentleman. We did a lot of things together, we shared a ton of the same interests. But when you share EVERYTHING with someone, you lose time with yourself. Everyone wants time to themselves. Even if it's just 20 minutes of silence. I never got that. I couldn't even go to the store by myself. My apartment was taken over by movies and music that I didn't like. It was beginning to wear very, very thin.

If I did say "I just want to stay in tonight." or "I'm just going to clean my apartment and listen to some music." it automatically turned into me not wanting to see him anymore. I was back with Kevin. I was fucking someone. If some guy sent me a text message, if I was invited to a party by a male, if someone posted some sort of comment on my MySpace it was only because they "want to fuck" me. Males couldn't be my friends because they just wanted to fuck me or be seen with me.
Apparently males didn't find me fun to be around. There was NOTHING appealing about my personality or anything...

And then it hit me- He's jealous. Like, SUPER UBER jealous. And it was slightly flattering at first I suppose. But his aggressiveness was nothing what I was used to. If Kevin ever got jealous (before the breakup, obviously) he never said or did anything about it. So after Rob contacted me on MySpace I tried to make a point to have it so Robert could hang out with Matt too. Basically I was trying to quell his fears (Well down the line we see how that turned out don't we?)
But it never stopped. It got worse and worse. And it started to get loud.

Ok so I'm one of those people that can't stand a one sided argument. If you want to yell and argue, ok that's fine... But you can't argue with me if you don't let me talk and say my damn peace. And that's what was happening one night. I can't remember how it started, but more likely than not, I was drunk off my damn ass. (Oh yeah, I developed myself a nice little drinking habit. Depression/late nights/working at a damn bar will do that to you) And he was probably pissed that I was drunk. Again. And then on top of that, he thought I fucked someone because I was "late" coming back to my apartment.

Either way, it ended up with him throwing shit around my apartment, me yelling at him to quit trashing shit, and him continuing to trash shit. I got fed up and joined in. There was a bottle of body wash on the kitchen table so I chucked it into the bathroom, flipped over a chair or two, and asked him if I looked like him while I was doing it. He actually stopped to ask what he looked like. My smart ass came back with something to the effect of "The Hulk on a rampage after he couldn't get it up." And apparently that's what did it because he picked me up and threw me onto the couch. Well that sobered me up right quick and sent me into an unbelievable tantrum.

I wasn't scared, I was fucking pissed off. How DARE he? Who does he think he is? At that point I didn't care that he was sixfootsomething with a black belt in whatever martial arts shit he was into. I was on fire, and I was on the warpath. I bounced up and got right in his face and damned everything he'd ever loved and stood for. I told him if he ever EVER even THOUGHT about doing anything like that again, I'd end him.

But that was my mistake. I'd seen his temper, I'd recognized his jealousy. And my dumb ass gave him a second chance.

After that break in character, he wisened up. For a minute. We'd get into arguments, we'd fling mud. We'd curse and swear and throw and scream. I don't know if it was me not wanting to feel alone, or if at that point in time being in a constant state or fury and misery made kept me from being numb... but I didn't leave.

And one day, I found out what made him tick. If I was stark raving calm about everything, he'd go berserk. He knew how to push my buttons to get me to start a fight, and I'd discovered how to push them back once it was started. He'd fly off the handle, call me every name in the book, hang up on me, call right back, leave wretched evil messages... And if I answered the phone cheerily every time, he'd get more angry. If I let him scream at me and insult me, I'd ignore it and be ever so sweet to him. He wasn't getting to me anymore. He wasn't hurting my feelings and building them back up. I was just no longer phased. This game was boring.

After grabbing my wrists too tightly here, or pinning me against the wall those few times... I realized I was allowing myself to become a Lifetime movie. And I finally just said "I'm done. Whatever this is, is done. I'm not enjoying myself, and if you are then you need help. I don't want to do this anymore." And he went batshitfuckingcuckoobananas. After a few attempts at contacting me, and me just not fucking answering the phone, he decided to leave me a barrage of messages. This particular morning I was out to breakfast with my friend Ron. I had 7 unheard messages. Obviously I don't remember them ver batum, but I will do what I can to sum up how things went.

Megan: *cell phone rings* *ignore* *voicemail tone* (This happened a good 20 times before Ron and I even got our food...I just straight up turned my phone off and buried it in my purse.)
Ron: What the fuck is his problem now?
Megan: I told him I don't want to see him anymore.
Ron: All those phone calls were him??
Megan: All of them. All night last night, and so far all morning.
Ron: I kinda feel sorry for the guy.
Megan: I don't.
(After we eat, I turn my phone on and play all the messages in Real Time on speakerphone so Ron can listen to them as well. Basically they go like this....:)

Message 1 - What the fuck you fucking whore? You're too good to talk to me now? I just wanted to let you know I'm going to the fucking clinic today to make sure your diseased body didn't give me anything fucking nasty.

Message 2 - You know what? I won't be surprised if I have herpes or something with how much you fucking suck dick. Who knows whose dicks you've been licking on lately. I'm almost scared to fucking go because who knows how much shit you fucking gave me.

Message 3 - Look would you just pick up the phone? I'm sorry for the shit I've said, I'm just really hurt and so confused. What's going on? Will you please just answer so we can talk this out?

Message 4 - No fuck that, I don't want to fucking talk to you any goddamn way. Don't fucking call me back. Ever. Fuck you and everyone you've fucked.

Message 5 - *sobbing* Megan I'm so, so so sorry. I'm so fucking stupid. I can't believe what I just said to you. I'm such a fucking idiot. Please just call me back *sobbing, unintelligable*

Message 6 - *calm* Megan you're being childish and ridiculous. Let's handle this like adults. Just call me...

Message 7 - *some weird song that he introduced me to...* *disconnect*


And this is all in the span of 30 minutes...

I decide I'm frustrated. I have a girls night. I invite over my friends Lisa and Shannon. They ask about what happened, I tell them, and I have a feeling they don't believe me. I play them the messages and they make excuses for him like good "wingmen" would do. Whatever. Either way, Matt calls Shannon and asks her to bring him cigarettes at work. Shannon and Lisa had walked to my apartment from Shannon's house (which was maybe 4 blocks away) and they each had about 3 glasses of wine by that time. I agree to drive them there if they almost literally throw the smokes out of my car so we can just get the fuck out before he sees me... Why I agreed to this I still don't know. We get him smokes, I park someplace not easily seen from the door of the Little Caesar's where he was working at the time.

Well Lisa gets out, runs the smokes in and saunters herself back to the car and says "Well he knows you're here." And my heart sinks. I don't even wait for her to close the door all the way before I'm driving the hell off. Not even out of the parking lot yet and my phone is ringing, and like something out of a movie, I see him in my rearview mirror running out of work, phone in hand chasing after my car.

I proceed to go the hell off on Lisa. Now I AM scared. He'd been trying to get ahold of me, and I'd been actively ignoring him. I didn't want Shannon or Lisa telling Matt I was with them because the last thing I needed was him getting pissed at them, hurting them, and them blaming me. (This is the way my mind worked...) we get back to the apartment- After about an hour of me waiting for Matt to show up, I think all is well and I proceed to have some drinks with the girls. Lisa's phone rings she steps into my hallway- about 10 minutes later she comes back into my apartment and all is well. Until about 10 minutes after that when Matt just about busts down my goddamn door and pulls me out of my chair so hard I'd thought my arm was dislocated.

To this day I'll never know who called Lisa, and why she didn't lock the door behind her like I always ask everyone to... But I have my suspicions as to what the fuck was going on. To this day I do not trust Lisa. And it's because of that...

Now before I go into detail about what happens next- Allow me to shed some light onto the physical statures of all parties involved. Shannon and Lisa are both about 5'3", I am 5'9", and Matt is 6'6"(?). Lisa and Shannon are tiny, and in no way can they assist me in what was about to go down, even if they had their wits about them to do so...

Matt throws me into the wall and pins me there. At this point in time, I could not see Lisa or Shannon's faces for any kind of reaction (if there was one at all). Matt had me in a corner (literally) and had his knees against my thighs and my arms over my head. I almost literally could not move. I headbutted him as hard as I could- I'm still not sure where I hit him, but I knew I was seeing stars and he let go and stepped back. I ran for my life into the bathroom because it was the only room in my apartment that had a lock. I realized, once I got in there, what a fucking retarded assed idea it was. Yes it had a lock, but my phone was out there, and it was furthest point in the apartment from my exit. Shit... At least my kitties were safe. As soon as the commotion started, they took off and hid in the bathroom as well.

Matt is shouting and screaming through the door. He's twisting the handle and pounding on the door. I thought for sure the handle was going to break- It was a cheap pressboard door and an even cheaper doorknob. After what seemed like forever, I heard him scream himself down the hallway and out the door. Then I hear the door slam. I waited a minute before Shannon came knocking on the door, asking if I was ok, was I hurt was I bleeding. I flung the door open, ran for the kitchen and grabbed my phone. As I flipped it open to call the cops, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. I grabbed a knife and lunged forward to try and lock the door before he got in. Lisa was out there too, but fuck her. She sold my ass out and as far as I was concerned, he was the wolf and I was throwing her right to him.

Didn't matter, I was too late. Knife in one hand, phone in the other, I stood my ground. I don't know what I was going to do, exactly. But I was honestly more concerned about not knowing what the fuck he was going to do. I wanted to be prepared. He saw the knife, he saw the phone and he knew who I was calling. He paused for a moment and tried to reason with me. The cops picked up and I told them I had a domestic disturbance including a violent unwelcome intruder in my home. They said they'd send someone as soon as possible.

Matt tried to play the voice of reason. Shannon was freaked the hell out at this point and just stayed behind me. I told Matt I wanted him out of my apartment. He was unwelcome, the cops were on their way, and he hurt me. He'd be lucky if there were no bruises. He needed to get the fuck out, and stay the fuck out. He looked defeated, and apologized. He turned and left calmly. My dumb ass put the knife down and sat at the kitchen table to collect myself. I believe at this point either I had called Kevin (Robert and I were not quite at the stage where I could call him with this distress, and Kevin and I were at that point in time friend-like) And Matt threw the door open yet again, calling me a whore and a slut. He said he knew I was still fucking Kevin and always had been- I think this is when Kevin started to leave his house because this was right in the middle of the conversation.

Unarmed and blindsided, I couldn't fight back when Matt grabbed a fistful of my hair, put a hand around my neck and drug me out of my apartment.

Pause- I lived on the top floor of my building. There were 6 apts on each floor. Mine was on the end, right by the stairs. I got to know those stairs very well. Matter of fact, my face met them several times... Resume-

The threw my out of my apartment and I landed face first on the ground. I remember scrambling to get up and run the other way because I knew, I just KNEW those stairs were next... My neighbor across the hall (Gary- a buddy from HS) saw what was happening and screamed through the door that he was calling the cops. I tried to make my legs work, but they wouldn't. Because Matt had them. He pulled me backwards, grabbed me by the neck again and hoisted me up by my arm before tossing me down a few stairs onto the landing. I remember feeling my leg get caught in between the decorative poles on the banister. I stood up and tried to gain some space, but he just shoved me forward down the stairs. I landed on my chest this time and I heard (and felt) something crack. All the of the air left my body and I couldn't get it back into my lungs.

And that's because after I hit, he was on my back. His knees were on my legs, one arm pressing along my shoulder blades, and the other hand covering my mouth to keep me from screaming... Where the fuck were the cops? Where the hell were my friends? What in the hell is REALLY going on here?! I don't know what happened, or why he let go, but he did. And I never moved so fast in my life. I jumped down another set of stairs and ran full tilt into the parking lot where Matt somehow took me to the ground yet again.

I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up. My leg was throbbing, I could feel it swelling up. I found out later that I cracked two ribs from one of the falls, my face hurt, my jaw hurt, my everything was just screaming. Except for me. I couldn't make noise anymore. I just laid there and braced for impact. He pulled my arms behind my back and kneeled on my wrists. That's when I heard squealing tires and a car horn.
"Oh thank God the cops are finally here!"

Matt got up and backed off and there was Kevin- rifle in the passenger seat and an aluminum baseball bat in his hand.

Matt obviously left, and I then kicked Lisa the fuck out... And Lisa lived with Shannon so Shan left too. I took photos of my bruises and various swollen areas. I made some tea and sat on my couch and waited for another hour before I realized... The cops never showed up... And it's been this long, they're not going to. I got myself worked up all over again. I was so unbelievably pissed and I had some nice words for the Boys In Blue.

No one had ever, EVER done anything like that to me. No one had ever been so jealous, so possessive, and then so violent to me. I had never been hit by a significant other. Matter of fact, even when rough housing, if I even pretended to say "Ow!" it would stop immediately. It took me a while to absorb the seriousness of what had happened to me. It didn't quite sink in for a few days. What if no one was there? What if no one showed up? What if I didn't fight back? Would it have gotten as far as it did? Or would it have been worse? It wasn't until after this debacle all the stories came out. His anger issues, his jealousy, his history of abuse.

Thanks for the warning guys. 'preciate that one.

He moved after a while. Met a new girl. Knocked her up. Had a kid. She had 2 kids with 2 different fathers before that. WINNER. But he was getting a taste of his own medicine. He wasn't allowed to talk to his old female friends or she'd flip. After a while, he had some sort of fight with her. He tried to choke her out... Her eldest son called the cops and boom. Slammer. He's been in and out for violence and probation violations.

And then he has the audacity to just randomly contact me and speak as if everything is ok?! He thinks a measly apology via cheap social media network is acceptable? He thinks he has a right to tell me what the fuck HE wants when it comes to someone mentioning his name! You have the NERVE to ask Lisa (Lisa K, my dear friend, his ex girlfriend. Not the troll who ratted my ass out and led him right the fuck to me.) how I am? It's none of your damn business how I am. As far as you are concerned, you never met me. I don't exist, asshole. Erase every memory you've ever stored of me. I only wish that I could do the same with him. Just erase every idea of him...

"I just wanted you to know that I am sorry for the way I acted in the past and I wish you the best."

Really? That was so sincere. No really. It really got the message through...