Copyright (c) 2005, Courtney E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit or on another website without the written permission of the author. The author may be contacted by writing mrdouble@mrdouble.com. Original posting date: Thursday, March 03, 2005 A wildPage story from MrDouble's archive, Filename: thetruth.txt http://www.mrdouble.com Story_codes: abuse Story_intro: This is a story about my own personal experience in an abusive relationship. It was my first attempt to put into words my experience. The Truth Behind The Smile Written by Courtney E. It was about eight o’clock and I had just gotten out of drivers’ ed. I was waiting on the side of the road for my dad to pick me up because he was late as always. Then I saw him. He was tall and mysterious looking. I felt myself becoming immediately drawn to him. He walked over to me and began to chat me up. After a minute of small talk he asked me for my phone number, and excitedly I gave it to him. I figured he would probably never call me, but that night at about eleven o’clock the phone rang. No more than two weeks later we were officially dating. I was on cloud nine. Here I was, sixteen years old, and falling hopelessly in love. Life was perfect, and so was he. Or at least that is what I thought. At first it seemed I had found this wonderful guy and I was the luckiest girl in the world. He treated me like a princess and said those oh-so-sweet things I wanted to hear. As the months rolled by, however, things took a turn for the worse. He became extremely controlling. I no longer hung out with any of my friends; he wanted me to hang out only with him. He had to know where I was at all times of the day. I could not talk to any other guys, and if I did, he would become extremely jealous. This was only the beginning, however. In October of my junior year, after we had been dating for about five months, I moved in with him and his family. I suppose I did not have much of a choice, since my father had sold our house without anywhere for us to go. At the time it seemed living with Bobby could not possibly be any worse than living in hotels with my father, who at the time was at the peak of his struggle with drugs. Moving in with Bobby gave him all the control he wanted over me, and that turned out to be a very dangerous thing. He was there when I ate, when I slept, when I watched television, and when I did my homework. There was no getting away from him. My only escape was school. At first it was not too bad, but then he began doing drugs again. He had previously had a bad drug problem, but had been sober since I had first begun dating him. Here he was again, though, back to the drugs. He would leave the house presumably to go to Dunkin Donuts, which was right up the street, and not come back for three hours. When he came back he would yell at me for questioning where he had been. Everything that went wrong in his life became my fault. If he slept late it was my fault, if he got in trouble with his dad it was my fault, if he spent all his money it was my fault. He would yell and scream at me constantly. He convinced me that I was stupid, and ugly, and a huge screw up. Any bit of self-esteem I had had, he destroyed. He would always tell me that I could not do anything right. The sad part is, I actually listened to him. I took everything he said to heart. I convinced myself that it must be my fault because I loved him and did not want to believe he was just an awful excuse for a human being. The mental and emotional abuse continued to escalate. Then he became physically abusive. He would push me up against doors or kick me. He would grab me by my wrists and refuse to let go. In one particular incident he started pushing me hard up against the car door, while we were driving down a major highway. After shoving me around he pulled over and tried to force me out of the vehicle. Here we were, on 495, and he was trying to make me get out. He was pushing me out the door, ignoring my crying, which became hysterical. We got past that incident, but the abuse did not stop. He also became sexually abusive. He would force me to have sex with him, whenever he wanted it. I would say no, but that would not stop him. Knowing I did not want to have sex with him, he would still do it. I would just lie there, motionless. I felt as if I had no worth. Soon I found out that he was also cheating on me. I caught him red handed. He confessed to his wrongdoing and begged me not to leave him. He cried and fed me all these lines about how sorry he was. I don’t know why, but I took him back. Everyone tried to get me to leave him, but I would not listen. I honestly believed he loved me. Despite his promise to never cheat again, he did. Did I really expect him not to? I could not prove it, though, and he denied it completely. What could I do? I took his word for it. In the August before my senior year, his drug problem turned out to be a blessing. His parents found out and sent him to rehab. I, on the other hand, was sent to live with my mother. The hold he had on me was slowly loosening. While he was gone for thirty days, I was extremely happy. I went out with my friends and enjoyed my new found freedom. When he got out of rehab, I continued to live with my mother, despite his objections. My ties to him began to deteriorate. While he was gone I found that I could live without him just fine. This knowledge gave me power. We continued dating but slowly I was pulling away. I began to stand up for myself and did not take much of his verbal abuse. I fought back and finally found that I had a voice. In January I ended it. I finally found enough courage to leave him. Of course it did not come without a little bit of help. A good friend from work, whom I had had a crush on for quite some time, showed me how I should be treated. On January sixteenth I had my mom cover for me when Bobby called, and I went out to dinner with Kyle. It was amazing. He treated me as I deserve to be treated. He told me that he really liked me, and I deserved better than Bobby. That was all that it took. That night I called Bobby and told him I was leaving him. I had found someone who would treat me right. He cried and begged me not to, but this time I was stronger. I held my ground. That same night I began dating Kyle. I have not spoken to Bobby much since, and I could not be happier. Many times I have been asked, “Why didn’t you leave him sooner?” My honest answer – I do not know. I look back now and cannot even understand what I was thinking to not leave him. All I can say is that when I was with him, I was blind. I did not want to see what was really happening; I wanted to believe he loved me. When I lived with him, I felt trapped. Where would I go if we broke up? Once I moved in with my mom, I began to push away. The cage had been lifted and I had my first glimpse of freedom. I know many people will say I am stupid to have stayed, but I say that you do not know what you would do until you are in that situation. Before dating him I always said I would never put up with an abusive boyfriend, but I did. It has been almost a year since I have broken it off with Bobby. I am happier now than I have ever been. Leaving him was the best decision I ever made. I look back now and use what happened as a lesson learned. I ignored all the signs that he would be abusive, and I will not make that mistake again. I am still with Kyle, and he is the perfect boyfriend I deserve. Most of my self-esteem has been restored. I am still feeling the effects of the year and eight months I spent with Bobby. I still have trust issues and often have flashbacks. I have moved on, however, and I do not dwell on the past. Now you know the truth behind the smile I put on for a year and eight months. *---(:> Double for Nothing!! Tricks for Free!!! <:)---* www.mrdouble.com *---(:> Mr Double <:)---* This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.