Part Three of the Ryan Saga
After packing up my car, I drove to Atlantic City where Ryan and I spent the weekend with my parents. From A.C. my parents of course went back to Maryland and I headed to Ohio to begin my new life.
I remember before we even left Atlantic City we had a big ass fight and although he didn't touch me, I remember thinking to myself "what have I gotten myself into"? I quickly dismissed the thought and reminded myself that this was a brand new start and that things were going to be different this time around.
Once we arrived at his house but before I even had my bags unpacked, Ryan insisted on searching my luggage because he wanted to make sure that I hadn't smuggled anything in the house that he didn't think belonged. This was the first time he ever searched through my stuff, but it definitely wasn't the last. In fact, it became an every day thing. I thought the first time would be the last considering I didn't know a single soul in Ohio. What did he think I was going to have?
We went out to the bars a lot and without fail he always found a reason to start an argument. Mostly he was accusing me of looking at other guys and somehow it was my fault when other guys looked at me. Even if I stayed by his side the whole night and I tried as hard as possible not to look at other guys and not to draw attention to myself - he'd still find a reason to fight with me.
The first time our fighting turned physical I started packing my bags and I threatened to go home. He in turn gave me the same old song and dance, that he was sorry and that it wouldn't happen again. But, he also reminded me that I had nowhere to go, that I'd be nowhere without him, that I'd end up living in my parent's basement and that I was nothing but a loser, junky, washed up drug addict. I gave it another shot.
He systematically broke down what little pride and self esteem I had left until I really started to believe that I was a big loser and that I would never amount to anything.
Of course there were good days, but they were farther and farther apart and the bad days were much more frequent.
One night we started fighting again and once again I tried to leave. I was really done this time. I decided I was leaving and there was nothing he could say to make me stay. I started packing my suitcase, he promptly picked it up and threw it against the wall, all of my clothes fell out and then he grabbed me by the throat and pinned me up against the wall. While he was choking me, I felt a huge, fierce, burning sensation run through my leg. I started screaming and fell on the floor. His Rottweiler (dog's best friend) had bitten me in the leg. He was protecting his master even though I was the one getting my ass beat. He hardly needed protection from me.
I was in so much pain. I laid on the floor and cried and cried. I took some advil for the pain, there was no way I was going to be able to make the 8 hour trek back to Maryland driving an Eclipse with a stick shift with my leg throbbing, so I laid down and went to sleep but I knew I wasn't going to be staying in Ohio for much longer.
To be continued...