Fear and two rolls of quarters

I am afraid. Just the sound of his voice on an ipod video gives me a chill. I don’t ever want to see him again or hear his voice.  I will probably change my phone number every year and try to keep my address private. After his hacking my facebook a few times and sending ugly messages to my friends I gave up social media like Facebook. Perhaps it’s irrational and paranoid. Maybe it’s because I know him better than anyone else on the planet. I alone know what he is truly capable of because he told me, I experienced it, I stood witness to it. He screamed it and whispered it to me. He expressed it in many ways. He told me many times he would love to be an assassin, sniper, or contract killer.  He said he could easily take a life without remorse. He knew that there was something wrong with him, that it was not a normal way of thinking. He spoke easily of how he would enjoy just going on a killing spree and shooting, stabbing, and choking total strangers. “Going Postal” he liked to call it. These are words he actually spoke aloud to me. He said he could kill me without a thought.  “I want to choke the living shit out of you and watch your eyes bulge and your face turn purple. I just want to squeeze your neck with my bare hands.”  I would look at him deeply hurt, searching for any humanity in him and ask “Why? What did I do to make you want to kill me? To hurt me?”  I just never understood. Why was he so filled with hate for me when he was supposed to be my best friend and love me.  I really believe he is filled with an evilness he can’t understand himself. Something in his brain is wired wrong. You know how you hear about an abused child that has been singled out in a family and treated horribly, starved, locked in a closet, never loved, kicked, spit on, hated.  That is the sum of my marriage.  All those years I was a symbol of hatred for him to take out his rage on because I couldn’t and wouldn’t ever fight back. There is no answer to the question why because no reason exists. Not that makes sense anyways. Unless you have looked into those hate filled eyes and heard his sneering whispery deadly voice, you can’t understand the fear. I can’t shake it.  It follows me everywhere and permeates my life like the stench of a dead skunk coming through the car vents.

In one of his rages, he ran out of the house in his boxer shorts and screamed and pointed at every person driving past the words “I hate you! And You! Fuck You! Fuck you too!  I just want to kill you all!!” It was crazy, his behavior was crazy.

I recently visited an old high school friend who was in town that I hadn’t seen since graduating high school thirty years earlier. He said he had worried about me for many years.  He told me how relieved he and others were that I was divorced because everyone thought my husband would kill me. He had been at a convenience store one day during high school when my ex walked in and threw a $20 bill on the counter. He asked the cashier for and was given two rolls of quarters. He placed one in each hand and made a fist around it.  He then calmly walked outside and proceeded to beat the shit out of a guy in the parking lot.  My friend told me he knew it would just be a matter of time before he hurt me. I wish I had known…..

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