Enough is Enough

I have had my share of breakups over the last 33 years. Some might even say I have mastered the art of an amicable break up. Anyone who has ever broken up with someone knows what that defining moment or moments were when you knew it was over. As I reflect back on my last relationship that spanned seven and a half years of my life, I realized I should have left the relationship after a year, but somehow I put up with it for another six years. 

It all started on a late Thursday night. I can’t even remember what the fight was about, but I am sure it had to do with him talking to another woman. For most of our relationship, he had emotionally cheated with several women. I had no evidence that he physically cheated but to me emotionally cheating was the same. The fact that we did not agree on what constituted cheating caused major problems in our relationship.

I am sure that this fight started with me reading his text messages. I know it sounds crazy and an invasion of privacy, but I did it. Of course I would use what I found to bring up his unfaithfulness and an argument would ensue. That night the argument escalated and he strangled me.  This wasn’t the first time he had strangled me. He had also suffocated me with a pillow before. 

This night was different. I tried to cry out for my mom to help me. She had moved in with us earlier in the year. When he realized that I was trying to yell for her he said, “Don’t. I’ll drag her down the stairs by her feet.” I froze and went silent with tears running from the side of my eyes into my ears and hair. I would never let anyone hurt my family. I stopped struggling because I would rather he killed me instead of hurting my mom. He stopped and we slept.

The next day I woke up to find bruises around my neck. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and touching the bruises, wondering how I could hide them and when they would go away. I went to see Francesca at work that afternoon. I knew it was time to tell her what had happened and showed her my bruises. I knew she believed me and didn’t need to see the bruises but I showed her anyway as if to make it a reality for myself. I was relieved. For some messed up reason I hid that fact that he was abusing me for over five years. I didn’t want my family to hate him and I didn’t want it to be over. They never liked him.

Saturday, I got home from work in time for a barbeque we had planned with friends. I remember coming home and sitting E down on the side of the bed and I just asked him straight out, “Are we going to continue doing this when we have kids?” I could see his face turn into rage and I feared for my life and ran down the stairs as quickly as I could. I knew in that moment that he wasn’t ever going to change and that it was only going to get worse if we stayed together and had children. We had friends over and everything was normal so it seemed.

Monday came and I had promised to take my sister out shopping because I couldn’t on Saturday since I worked. I picked up Francesca right after work. Somehow, E didn’t know that I had planned this. He was blowing up my texts. I thought I had told him, but must have forgot. We stopped at one of our favorite restaurants, Tutto Pasta, for dinner. We were seated in the main dining area in front of the window. He called me and I picked up. For some reason he thought I was lying to him so I had Francesca say hi. All I remember was how mad he sounded. He was treating me like shit all night. I finally had enough and told my sister I was done. After everything that recently happened, how could he treat me like this? 

I dropped my sister off at my brothers’ apartment and drove to E’s mom’s house. I planned to tell her that I was breaking up with him and that she needed to come get him. I knew if his mom came with me that he would not get physical. I arrived to his mom’s house but her lights were off. I changed my mind and drove home. He called me just as I was down the street from home and he was nasty. I had enough. I couldn’t believe I had just changed my mind because his mom wasn’t up but now I was done. I told him that we were over. I drove down the road past my house and parked my car. 

His tune changed. He was apologizing. He was only acting the way he was because he had cleaned the house and wanted me to see it. Through all his begging, I stuck to what I said. It was over. I called my mom immediately after and told her to get out of the house because I feared for her life. I was terrified what he might do to my dogs but I could not get them because I knew I was weak when it came to him. I did what I had to and went to my brothers’ apartment and slept the night.

The next morning I called my boss and told him what happened and that I did not have change of clothes. He suggested that I still come in as I was recently promoted and it would not look good to my team if I didn’t show up. I called E’s mom and told her that we broke up and that I wanted him out of my house. I drove to Target and bought new clothes for work and arrived a couple hours late. I didn’t go home for three day until I knew he was moved out. I missed my dogs so much but I did what I needed to in order to make sure he was gone.

When it comes down to it I tell everyone I chose myself, I chose my happiness, I chose my unborn children, and that is what made me realize that it was over. I dodged a bullet as one of my closest friends later told me and she was right. What I know now is that no one could have told me that it was enough, I had to realize that I had enough on my own and it took me seven and a half years to finally say, “Enough is enough.”