"Come on", he coaxed as he pulled me towards an empty bedroom. "One last time for old times sake". He smiled that snaky smile of his and I felt something snap inside of me. I yanked my hand out of his grip and made my way out of the apartment yelling back that I'd see him in court .
How did I end up there, you ask?
Well... "He" ^ is my ex-husband Vinny the Guinea(<--- that was my moms pet name for him).
In April of 2005 while Jorge and I were on our second separation, I returned to the west coast of Florida to stay with and help my sister out with her kids. I managed to find Vinny and I convinced him that we needed to file for divorce. I mean, it had been over a year that I lived on the opposite side of the state and that I had not had contact with him. We might as well do what needs to be done and cut the legal strings.
Of course he wasn't going down without a fight. He begged me in front of the court clerk who was handling our Do it Yourself Divorce paperwork (which I did for both of us) to give us another chance. That he was sorry. That he had changed. That I didn't really want to do this. That ending our marriage would be a mistake. The bastard even got down on his knees. Talk about a drama queen ( I will explain more about in a later entry). I was mortified. I just wanted this all to be over as quickly as possible. The clerk gave me a receipt for the paperwork and advised me that I would receive a court date in the mail.
We left the court house and of course I had to bring Vinny home since I had brought him there to ensure the paperwork actually got turned in. He told me he wanted to show me something, so my dumb ass followed him upstairs into the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend, the Douche. The "thing" he wanted to show me turned out to be the view of the crappy man made lake/puddle that could be seen from the patio area. Wow. Really? Well, then his true intentions started to come out. He started in again on how we shouldn't be divorcing, blah, blah, blah... Then he got in front of me, grabbed my hand and that brings me back to the top.
"Come on", he coaxed as he pulled me towards an empty bedroom. "One last time for old times sake". He smiled that snaky smile of his and I felt something snap inside of me. I yanked my hand out of his grip and made my way out of the apartment yelling back that I'd see him in court . As I stormed out of the apartment I passed through the living room which held the only piece of furniture in the house, an air mattress. For some reason, this fueled my anger. He wanted to have "one last go at it" on the carpeted floor?!?! I wasn't even good enough for the frikken air mattress??
Luckily, the court date came in the mail a few days later. April 20Th, 2005. I absolutely love that day. It was hilarious to me that we would be officially divorced on a day that he loved as well, being a pot head and all. The day came and by the insistence of the Douche (who I am sure was told by a neighbor that I had been in her house) they picked me up and we drove to the courthouse. This Douche had the audacity to try to walk into the courtroom with us when they called our name, and as soon as the bailiff turned her away Vinny pleaded with me not to go through with it. I turned to him and told him if he didn't shut the fuck up and agree with everything I said, I would change my mind and ask for alimony and spousal support. I told him he better believe that I would get it too on account of all the cheating and abuse I endured during our marriage and for the fact that I had so many witnesses to attest to it. I reminded him that marrying him was the biggest mistake I had ever made and if he really did love me like he said he would just leave me alone.
The proceeding ended quickly since we had no property to split, no children to fight over, and no other disputes, and finally I was free. I still had to endure a ride home from him and the douche, but I enjoyed the ride knowing that this would be the last time I ever saw either one of them. When we pulled up to my sisters house I was surprised to see that the front was decorated with balloons and a "congratulations" banner. My sister, and two of our friends Ianna, and Melissa were standing in the drive way already celebrating with a bottle of Tequila and shot glasses. They started yelling "No more Vinny", "4/20 Bitches" while jumping up and down like a bunch of teenagers that just caught a glimpse of the New Kids on the Block. It was the best and funniest surprise I have ever gotten. The look on Vinny's face as the car pulled away was priceless. And a perfect ending to a very long and hard chapter in my life.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
How I met my second husband
In September of 2003 I was married to a Puerto Rican ass wipe named Vinny. We had moved to Florida in January of the same year to escape drug problems that he had and to "start over" in order to salvage our marriage. I married him too young, looking for someone to love me(looking back of I know that, but at the time I was "in love") and I was determined not to fail so I was willing to do almost anything to fix our marriage. That included moving 2000+ miles away from where I grew up, turning a blind eye to his extra marital affair, forgiving him after he cleaned out our bank account to support his drug addiction, his abusive behavior towards me. I did not realize at the time that I needed to fix me since I was concentrating so hard to fix Vinny. Don’t get me wrong, he had issues, but the views I had about myself allowed him to treat me and our marriage with disrespect. (Again, hindsight…)
So anyway… In September of 2003 I was working a full time job (overnight shift at a nursing home) and attending college (5pm-9pm). Vinny and I were renting a house with a big back yard, had a car, a pool (I have no idea now why I felt like that was such an accomplishment… It was a piece of crap above ground pool!), a dog, both of us were holding a job… I was starting to feel happier. One night while I was working, my co-worker Maria and I went down stairs to the patio to smoke a cigarette and wait for a friend of hers to come over to talk to her. Her friend shows up and she introduces us. Jorge, this is Caroline, Caroline, my cousin Jorge. He was drunk. And obviously so. Plus he was in the company of another girl. I said hello to them both and excused myself to go do my rounds.
The next day Maria invited me to a soccer game that her husband would be playing in on the upcoming Saturday. She told me she did not want to go alone. Hey, Vinny was going to be working, I was home alone, why not? Saturday comes along and Maria comes to my house to pick me up. As I reach for the handle of the car door, I see roses in the front seat. I think to myself, -Aw! Nicholas (her husband) bought her flowers! That is so sweet! Vinny is such an ass… He never does that stuff for me…- Much to my surprise, as I get in the car, Maria tells me that the flowers are for me!! From her cousin Jorge! Who, mind you, will also be playing in the soccer game… Bitch set me up! (Oh well. Honestly, the attention made me feel wonderful.) She goes on to tell me that Jorge thinks I am pretty, yada, yada… He knows I am married, he knows that I am not really all that happy in my marriage (thanks to Maria for spreading my business), he would like to be my friend. From the look of the ROSES, I knew he really wanted to be more than friends, but he had to start somewhere I guess.
We get to the soccer game and Jorge and Nicholas come over to say hi and I thank him for the flowers (while blushing bright red!). The next thing I know, I have twenty dollars in my hand and he is asking for water. And telling me to get something to drink too. So Maria and I go to 7-11 and get the guys some water, ourselves coffee and hot chocolate and we head back to the game. About twenty minutes into it, I realize that I am the only white person there. And no one is really watching the game, they are all conversing with each other. Boring!! So, I get up and start yelling CINCO! (Jorge’s number) and I clap and cheer for the team. Yeah, all eyes are on me, including Jorge’s, but Maria and a couple of the kids came over after a minute and joined me. It turned out to be pretty fun after that. Of course "our" team won, and the guys wanted to celebrate so we all trip back to Maria’s house. At that point I learned that Jorge lived in the apartment right next door to her, and that they were not technically cousins. Apparently Jorge was new to the USA, and Maria and Nicholas kind of took him under their wing so to speak, showing him the ropes and they had become family. I also learned that he had two jobs and did not really know much English.
I was not able to celebrate with everyone for very long that night because I had to go to work. I talked (more like sign language and writing on a pad of paper in my broken Spanish) to Jorge for a little while before it was time for me to leave and he kissed me on the cheek as I left. (I still have the paper where I wrote down my cell number for him that day.) Later that night, who showed up to my job with food from the party? Yup, he brought me food. I was impressed. And hungry. We "talked" for hours that night. And since he was still there when morning came, he invited me to his house for breakfast. He made me eggs and Chorrizo and coffee. -That is the day that I learned how he likes his coffee. I remember thinking how odd it was that he used regular milk, and it was more like he was drinking milk with a touch of coffee. I went home soon after and he went to work.-
Jorge and I visited with each other at my job almost every night for the next couple of months. Almost every night he brought me and my residents’ food from the Italian restaurant he worked at. And we had breakfast almost every morning. I was getting attached to this guy. I was looking forward seeing him every day. I was beginning to become more and more unhappy in my marriage to Vinny because I was finally seeing that there was something better than what he was giving me out there in the world. I realized that I was having an emotional affair and I started to feel guilty about that too. I considered telling Jorge that we needed to stop spending time together, but on December 6th,2003 a series of events sent my life spiraling into directions I never thought possible.
After work that morning I went to Jorge's house. When I got there, he was standing there with a towel, a t-shirt and boxers. He told me to follow him, and I did, into the bathroom to see that he had drawn me a bath. Complete with bubbles and candles. He told me to go relax and when I got out we would have breakfast. I remember laying there in his tub thinking how wrong, but how right he made me feel. He was always doing kind things for me. I got out of the bath tub and went to find him when I was done dressing. He was in his bedroom. He motioned me to come in, he was going to give me a massage. I was sooo nervous about letting him touch me, but I wanted him to touch me, I wanted that human connection, so I agreed to the massage. I was extremely tense and got goosebumps the second his hands were on my back. (I shiver now just thinking about it!) His hands were on my back, my legs, my arms… He told me to turn over and as I was turning, I felt his mouth on my neck. Then everywhere else. I shall not go into anymore detail except to tell you that I had never in my life felt as alive as I did in that moment and in the hours we spent together that morning.
When Jorge left that afternoon to go to work, I realized that I would have to go home to my husband and either confess to my marital indiscretion, or I’d have to keep it to myself and live with the guilt. Luckily for me, something else happened that day. As I was getting dresses, my cell phone rang. It was a girl that worked at the same place I did, but we worked different shifts so I did not really know her. She asked if I could stop by, that she needed to talk to me. I was literally right down the street, so I headed over. When I met her, she seemed really uneasy. It turned out that she knew my husband. While I was at work, he was trying to get into her pants. I may have felt like a hypocrite for being so angry and hurt if this wasn’t the fourth time that I found out he was going to stray if given the chance, never mind the time that he did cheat on me. Relief swept over me. He had finally given me the out I needed. He had not changed, yet I had. Our marriage was over. This had to be fate.
I went home after explaining to the girl that it was not the first time, and I sincerely appreciated her honesty. I called Maria and asked her to come over. When she got there, I asked if I could stay with her for a little while. I told her what happened (all of it) and she told me that she thought Jorge would want me to stay with him. Well, I was pretty much out of any other options, so I went with her suggestion. I left Vinny a short note telling him that I knew about the girl from my job and that I was leaving and would be filing for a divorce. When Maria and I got to the apartments, she used her copy of his key to let me in and helped me bring all my stuff in. We stored it in his second bedroom and waited for him to come home from work. When his car pulled up she went outside to talk to him and I sat in his kitchen and waited. I melted when he came into the house with a huge smile on his face and came right over to me and held me for what seemed like forever.
So December 6th, 2003 is the day that Man Child and I consider to be the day that we became a couple. This relationship has not been easy by any means, but I plan on posting some of our ups and downs later. We learn and grow from everything we experience and I hope that the ups become more frequent and the downs less serious.
So anyway… In September of 2003 I was working a full time job (overnight shift at a nursing home) and attending college (5pm-9pm). Vinny and I were renting a house with a big back yard, had a car, a pool (I have no idea now why I felt like that was such an accomplishment… It was a piece of crap above ground pool!), a dog, both of us were holding a job… I was starting to feel happier. One night while I was working, my co-worker Maria and I went down stairs to the patio to smoke a cigarette and wait for a friend of hers to come over to talk to her. Her friend shows up and she introduces us. Jorge, this is Caroline, Caroline, my cousin Jorge. He was drunk. And obviously so. Plus he was in the company of another girl. I said hello to them both and excused myself to go do my rounds.
The next day Maria invited me to a soccer game that her husband would be playing in on the upcoming Saturday. She told me she did not want to go alone. Hey, Vinny was going to be working, I was home alone, why not? Saturday comes along and Maria comes to my house to pick me up. As I reach for the handle of the car door, I see roses in the front seat. I think to myself, -Aw! Nicholas (her husband) bought her flowers! That is so sweet! Vinny is such an ass… He never does that stuff for me…- Much to my surprise, as I get in the car, Maria tells me that the flowers are for me!! From her cousin Jorge! Who, mind you, will also be playing in the soccer game… Bitch set me up! (Oh well. Honestly, the attention made me feel wonderful.) She goes on to tell me that Jorge thinks I am pretty, yada, yada… He knows I am married, he knows that I am not really all that happy in my marriage (thanks to Maria for spreading my business), he would like to be my friend. From the look of the ROSES, I knew he really wanted to be more than friends, but he had to start somewhere I guess.
We get to the soccer game and Jorge and Nicholas come over to say hi and I thank him for the flowers (while blushing bright red!). The next thing I know, I have twenty dollars in my hand and he is asking for water. And telling me to get something to drink too. So Maria and I go to 7-11 and get the guys some water, ourselves coffee and hot chocolate and we head back to the game. About twenty minutes into it, I realize that I am the only white person there. And no one is really watching the game, they are all conversing with each other. Boring!! So, I get up and start yelling CINCO! (Jorge’s number) and I clap and cheer for the team. Yeah, all eyes are on me, including Jorge’s, but Maria and a couple of the kids came over after a minute and joined me. It turned out to be pretty fun after that. Of course "our" team won, and the guys wanted to celebrate so we all trip back to Maria’s house. At that point I learned that Jorge lived in the apartment right next door to her, and that they were not technically cousins. Apparently Jorge was new to the USA, and Maria and Nicholas kind of took him under their wing so to speak, showing him the ropes and they had become family. I also learned that he had two jobs and did not really know much English.
I was not able to celebrate with everyone for very long that night because I had to go to work. I talked (more like sign language and writing on a pad of paper in my broken Spanish) to Jorge for a little while before it was time for me to leave and he kissed me on the cheek as I left. (I still have the paper where I wrote down my cell number for him that day.) Later that night, who showed up to my job with food from the party? Yup, he brought me food. I was impressed. And hungry. We "talked" for hours that night. And since he was still there when morning came, he invited me to his house for breakfast. He made me eggs and Chorrizo and coffee. -That is the day that I learned how he likes his coffee. I remember thinking how odd it was that he used regular milk, and it was more like he was drinking milk with a touch of coffee. I went home soon after and he went to work.-
Jorge and I visited with each other at my job almost every night for the next couple of months. Almost every night he brought me and my residents’ food from the Italian restaurant he worked at. And we had breakfast almost every morning. I was getting attached to this guy. I was looking forward seeing him every day. I was beginning to become more and more unhappy in my marriage to Vinny because I was finally seeing that there was something better than what he was giving me out there in the world. I realized that I was having an emotional affair and I started to feel guilty about that too. I considered telling Jorge that we needed to stop spending time together, but on December 6th,2003 a series of events sent my life spiraling into directions I never thought possible.
After work that morning I went to Jorge's house. When I got there, he was standing there with a towel, a t-shirt and boxers. He told me to follow him, and I did, into the bathroom to see that he had drawn me a bath. Complete with bubbles and candles. He told me to go relax and when I got out we would have breakfast. I remember laying there in his tub thinking how wrong, but how right he made me feel. He was always doing kind things for me. I got out of the bath tub and went to find him when I was done dressing. He was in his bedroom. He motioned me to come in, he was going to give me a massage. I was sooo nervous about letting him touch me, but I wanted him to touch me, I wanted that human connection, so I agreed to the massage. I was extremely tense and got goosebumps the second his hands were on my back. (I shiver now just thinking about it!) His hands were on my back, my legs, my arms… He told me to turn over and as I was turning, I felt his mouth on my neck. Then everywhere else. I shall not go into anymore detail except to tell you that I had never in my life felt as alive as I did in that moment and in the hours we spent together that morning.
When Jorge left that afternoon to go to work, I realized that I would have to go home to my husband and either confess to my marital indiscretion, or I’d have to keep it to myself and live with the guilt. Luckily for me, something else happened that day. As I was getting dresses, my cell phone rang. It was a girl that worked at the same place I did, but we worked different shifts so I did not really know her. She asked if I could stop by, that she needed to talk to me. I was literally right down the street, so I headed over. When I met her, she seemed really uneasy. It turned out that she knew my husband. While I was at work, he was trying to get into her pants. I may have felt like a hypocrite for being so angry and hurt if this wasn’t the fourth time that I found out he was going to stray if given the chance, never mind the time that he did cheat on me. Relief swept over me. He had finally given me the out I needed. He had not changed, yet I had. Our marriage was over. This had to be fate.
I went home after explaining to the girl that it was not the first time, and I sincerely appreciated her honesty. I called Maria and asked her to come over. When she got there, I asked if I could stay with her for a little while. I told her what happened (all of it) and she told me that she thought Jorge would want me to stay with him. Well, I was pretty much out of any other options, so I went with her suggestion. I left Vinny a short note telling him that I knew about the girl from my job and that I was leaving and would be filing for a divorce. When Maria and I got to the apartments, she used her copy of his key to let me in and helped me bring all my stuff in. We stored it in his second bedroom and waited for him to come home from work. When his car pulled up she went outside to talk to him and I sat in his kitchen and waited. I melted when he came into the house with a huge smile on his face and came right over to me and held me for what seemed like forever.
So December 6th, 2003 is the day that Man Child and I consider to be the day that we became a couple. This relationship has not been easy by any means, but I plan on posting some of our ups and downs later. We learn and grow from everything we experience and I hope that the ups become more frequent and the downs less serious.
Putting it down in writing...
Every experience we have been through shapes who we become. I firmly believe that my past has turned me into the person I am today. As I was writing in my family blog yesterday about how I met my husband, I realized that there are so many things I would like to put down in writing; however a family blog may not be the best place to air the dirty laundry that is my past. I am not sure how I will format this blog; may be I will just post memories as they come to me, maybe I will put them in some sort of order.
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