Posts Tagged bullying
I said “I do!” to myself this weekend. We had a massive blow out the Friday before my birthday, and I gave him notice: I am moving out on 10/1/11. Everything was civil, even the move. But there are still some covert actions which cut me to the core. First IKEA screwed up my son’s delivery of his furniture and the men who came to assemble it, said things were missing when they weren’t. So LittleG’s bedroom wasn’t ready in time for the move. On 10/1 he said he would stay with EmCee… which was fine given the circumstances. But then last night (Sunday) cable screwed up the install in LittleG’s room and he couldn’t watch TV before bed. I used Netflix to stream a movie to his room, but he still would not sleep. Finally I brought him into bed with me. 30 minutes later still not sleeping. Im not fat enough (like daddy), the sheets aren’t soft enough, the pillows aren’t squishy enough. So at 1am I drove him back to EmCee’s house, just so he would get some sleep.
Today, I didn’t make it into work. I had to pick up LittleG and bring him to the doctor for his bad cough, then to the radiology center for a x-ray, back to the doctor for a reading, then to school to pick up his classwork and homework, then back to my house to do his school work, make dinner, clean the first floor, wash the carpet on the stairs, wait for the cable guy to come. LittleG played in his room and told me how much he “loved it”. Then tonight I had to go to church for LittleG’s first communion parent meeting. I called EmCee and told him that one of us had to go and I was waiting on cable. He tells me, “drop him off here, and find one of your friends to watch your house.” The right thing to have done was for him to say, “I will go for the meeting, you stay home and take care of our son.” But I’m foolish to think that.
I drop LittleG off with dinner and I tell him I will be back right after the meeting so we can go home. On my way back, EmCee informs me “to pick him up 2 packs of cigarettes on my way there so he doesn’t have to bring LittleG out” he also informs me that LittleG wants to spend the night AGAIN at his house. I go back there, cigarettes in hand, and EmCee has the nerve to say to me “Help me with making the bed, your son pissed it out.” So I go upstairs to help him (like he needs the help, I used to make the King sized bed by myself all the time) – and I notice the wall art which was over the bed It used to say: “Holding you, I hold everything” now it reads “I hold everything” – a bit passive aggressive? A bit douche bag to me. I think it was meant to be a dig at me that LittleG still likes to stay there and not with me.
I will give LittleG the benefit of the doubt. He is a very “fair” child. I know he feels in his heart, that since he spent the day with Mommy, it was Daddy’s time. But I have to put my foot down. He belongs here with me.
– Don’t Fear The Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult
There’s something you should know. Since I was a child, I feared death and loved life. I often questioned if life was so great, so enjoyable, why did it have to end? The process of death & dying I never took lightly – often the mere thought would send me spiraling into tears. But that all changed last year when I met someone who I now consider a very dear friend of mine, M.
I met M via the internet through casual conversation on twitter actually, about historical churches. Our conversations which would go on for weeks via email would touch on spiritual topics, religions, history and metaphysical topics. We spoke about our different upbringings (M lives in Europe) our current life’s work and so on. But what we really bonded on was a spiritual connection.
When I visited Europe last year (with about 40 of my closest girlfriends from around the world, its a yearly pilgrimage we take) M also visited me. During our email conversations, M would often say that he would not touch on the topic of Death with me because he knew how emotional it could be. We would discuss it if we ever met in person.
When I met M, we took a walk around the city visiting various churches together, exploring the architecture and talking about the history and the religion which the building was affiliated. After dinner one evening, I blurted out, “I don’t want to die!” and the floodgates opened. M listened intently to everything I said and responded so gently to my outburst – I need not worry about dying. M explained situations he had personally gone through, and explained that there is indeed existence after death, it is just not an existence neither you nor I have experienced during our mortal lives.
I had never before spoken to an individual who had words so comforting or words that I believed so deeply. For the first time in my life, I found comfort, hope and faith. M has always been, and will continue to be a spiritual rock for me. M’s visited my home and stayed with EmCee, myself and Little G – and has been in my life for about 2 years now. I’m an only child and M is about as close to a brother as I can get in this point in my life.
When I was visiting this year (last week) I got the awful news from my childhood best friend that her mother died. Her mom was the inspiration for my business (I am in the same industry she was in) and I was deeply saddened by her passing. It was like my own mother died. My heart bled for my best friend, my heart bled for her family.
When I heard the news, I spoke to M. And again (almost to the same day last year) we had a second conversation about death and dying. But because our friendship had grown so much from the prior year, the conversation was much deeper and more insightful. It comforted me and gave me hope.
Due to the time difference, I called EmCee as soon as it was daybreak in Jamaica to tell him of the news. I told him the wake was on Monday (the day I was flying home) and Tuesday and the funeral mass was Wednesday morning.
“Well, you don’t have to go to the wake or the funeral do you?” EmCee barked over the phone as if her Mom’s passing was an inconvenience to him.
“Of course I do, EmCee. That’s like my own Mom. She’s my best friend. How could I not go?” I responded.
“Well, she does realize you live an hour away in (another state)?” EmCee replied, almost annoyed that I was considering 3 days of constant travel.
“She’s not asking me to go, I am telling you that I am going.” I had to put my foot down. This is a man who has no regard for religion, the church or death. “I have to pay my respects. This is like family to me.” But then again, I was speaking to a man who just had his cousin’s mom die and didn’t even go to the wake – add no regard for family to the list too.
Needless to say, I did make it to both days of the wake, but due to the time (and my son’s school schedule) I wasn’t able to make it to the funeral mass. But I am glad that I was able to be with her and the family during this time.
Death, no it’s never been easy to me. But standing there in the funeral home I was surprisingly calm. I knew she went onto the next life – whether you call that heaven or reincarnation (or whatever you will) she is existing again. I pray her journey be a happy one in the comfort of the angels.
EmCee and I had prior conversations to this regarding death, and he doesn’t believe in Heaven or Hell. He doesn’t believe in anything. He believes that once we die – we die – the end. There is nothing more after our last breath. During that conversation I had with him, it was then I realized, that when I die – I want to be holding the hand of someone who will give me courage and hope – by saying to me, “I will see you in Heaven, I will see you in the next life.” I don’t want to be holding the hand of someone on my death bed who is saying, “Well, goodbye. I hope you had a nice life because this is it.”
Because this isn’t it. It’s not over. This isn’t the end. Those who believe shall be saved, those who believe will pass on to the next existence. Those who believe, know … don’t fear the reaper.
Perhaps a bit morbid of a topic to blog upon, but this is just another way EmCee and I are totally incompatible – we are just on two different pages. And its not just death, its the spiritual and religious aspect. I have always been fascinated with religions and have a strong belief in a higher being (call him God, call him what you will) and EmCee has not. When I was younger, I played into the whole notion that people of different religious backgrounds could overcome their differences – but now that I am older and closer to God, I realize that I need to have a partner who believes in a higher being just as much as I do – and who believes that they will see me in Heaven again – after this life is over.
I’m not sure who acts like more of a child sometimes, my 42 year old husband or my 6 year old son. Actually, I think my 6 year old is more mature sometimes than my husband. Tonight, he did it again. Not LittleG, EmCee of course!
And of course, EmCee’s behavior was justified because it was a result of our son’s actions and my (emotional, bitchy period) reactions.
I came home after a long day of work, and immediately headed to the kitchen to cook dinner. Funny how I’m married to a husband who has a degree in Culinary Science and yet, never cooks a meal!
I told LittleG, “You’ve watched TV and played video games all day at Mommy’s store, now it’s time to sit down and do your homework. THEN you can watch TV.”
(Put on repeat 3x times)
Finally, LittleG sat down at the kitchen table to do his homework (1 math worksheet & 1 grammar worksheet). I assumed EmCee would help him, but again EmCee is too busy to be bothered as he sat there plastered to his computer, glancing over at LittleG’s papers.
“That S is sloppy. It looks like an upside down 5. You’ve had an S in your last name for 6 years now, and you’ve been writing it for 2 years. Fix it.”
(Oh here we go again, I thought to myself as I prepped the potatoes and green beans).
“That S still doesn’t look right. Fix it. Is there something the matter with you? Don’t you care about your homework?” (Insert condescending, demeaning voice rising to near yelling levels).
Now, EmCee goes off into a tirade. Obviously, LittleG still didn’t fix what Daddy wanted. (As if Daddy should talk with his chicken scratch handwriting. Give me a break, the kid is 6 and his handwriting is good for a 6 yr old!)
“If you don’t care, then I DON’T CARE!”
EmCee picks up Little G’s folder, homework notebook, grammar workbook and THROWS them across the room. “Since you don’t care, I DON’T CARE!”
I unfortunately, can’t stand his bullshit anymore and immediately step up to him. Someone needs to protect LittleG. “Who’s the child here, him or you? What kind of example are you showing him by throwing his books? This is the second time in a month you’ve thrown something at him to prove your point and I’m not going to tolerate it.”
“Oh, see, now you’ve got your mother on your side.” (As LittleG starts hysterical crying).
“Mommy will you please help me finish my homework?” He asks quietly, not wanting to upset his father. I tell him to sit down calmly and we will finish it.
Homework is finished, but I’m not finished with EmCee. As soon as LittleG is out of the room, I immediately rip into him.
“You’re such a bad father sometimes. What kind of example are you showing him? Don’t you remember when your mother threw pea soup at you – it scarred you for life.”
“Yea, but I needed it I was acting like an asshole. LittleG was acting like an asshole just now, making a jerk out of me. He needed to be taught a lesson. I needed to make a point and sometimes you need to make a point!” (pause) “I hate you for calling me a bad father, I AM NOT A BAD FATHER!”
(Calling him this always hits a nerve, because his own dad abandoned him).
“Oh, what am I going to regret saying that? (Insert sarcasm here, as I referred to one of our prior arguments when he told me I was going to regret it) Why because I’m a woman, I shouldn’t open my mouth? Am I supposed to stand here and let you abuse my son?”
“It’s not abuse, he was making a jerk off out of me. I was making a point.”
(Yea, that you’re an asshole).
“You shouldn’t throw things. You’re teaching him that it is OK to throw things when he is angry or when things aren’t going his way. And you wonder why we are having behavioral problems with him in school.”
“Oh, you should talk. Mother of the year. How many times do you raise your voice and yell at him?”
“But I never throw things. And I never hit him. I’m not sarcastic or condescending to him. We all yell at our kids sometimes EmCee, it happens. But that doesn’t make me a bad parent.”
Of course, as soon as you point out his mistakes or flaws, he can “never take the hit” as he calls it. He will never accept blame. He always turns it around on everyone else and makes sure to point out their flaws. His behavior is always justified. His behavior is always perfect. He’s allowed to because he’s “the man” of the house. We should respect him.
I knew the conversation was only going to get worse. So I decided not to add any more fuel to the fire. I let it be and ended the argument like this:
“Well if if my behavior is that flawed, I would welcome someone pointing out to me my mistakes so that I can correct them. No one is perfect, not even me. So next time you feel that I am being the bad parent, why don’t you tell me.”
And I’m sure he will. He will savor every moment letting me know how screwed up a parent I am. Now, I just have to make sure I don’t give him the opportunity to do so.
LittleG was a bit antsy today. Perhaps it was because it was Thanksgiving weekend and the thought of 4 days off in a row excited him a bit too much. He drove me up a wall at work (thank god I own my own business) so much that I had to leave 2 hours early. I came home and tried to finish my work at home, but it was a constant state of nagging. “When are you going to play with me? Why can’t I have a brother or sister? If I had a brother or sister, I wouldn’t need you to play with me, Mommy.”
I know baby, I know. But I can’t tell you that your father never wanted you, that you were an accident and that your father hates children. I can’t tell you that all I have ever wanted in this world was a big, happy family, with a happy and loving father and husband. Instead, I made the poor decision of choosing EmCee, a man who is selfish and only wants his free time to himself – children are an “inconvenience” because he can’t do what he wants to do.
So after I wrapped up work for the evening, I wanted to play with you, LittleG. And I did, for a short time, I was trying to race cars with you while getting the kitchen cleaned up for Thanksgiving and in between laundry.
Then somehow, your father lost it (again). He screamed for you to sit down on the couch and stay still. He screamed at you when you didn’t listen. He picked you up by the collar again, and that’s when I turned around to watch you push him.
Good for you LittleG! You stood up for yourself against him. I am so proud of you that you did that! One day, you will be bigger than your father and I hope you put him in his place.
But for now, your father didn’t like that. And he took you by your collar once again, nearly chocking you – and threw you into the couch.
“Get your hands off of him!” I screamed, pulling at EmCee’s arms.
“Did you see that? He pushed me. He taunted me that he wasn’t sitting on the couch.”
I stormed upstairs and took LittleG with me. I wasn’t going to be in the same room as him. I would put away the laundry. Instead, though, it turned into a crying match between LittleG and I – let’s see who can cry more.
When I married EmCee in 2003 – I made the mistake of never asking his thoughts on major subjects – religion and children. My mistake, I should have. But because EmCee was so good around kids (he would always play with the neighbors kids, take them for ice cream, stuff like that) that I assumed EmCee liked kids.
Well, after we got married, I was informed that he wanted NO children. Not even 1. Not 2, and certainly not 3. Kids were nothing but an inconvenience to him, they would take away from his free time. They would turn into the dictators of the house, not giving him the time to do what he wants to do. (Mind you, he does nothing, has no outside interests and only watches porn, plays on the computer or watches TV, all day, everyday.) I was devastated. Destroyed. But I thought maybe one day, I could change his mind.
6 months into the marriage, I was terrible at taking birth control pills. Not on purpose, I would just forget and double up. Then I would forget again, and double up again. It always happened and I always made sure to tell EmCee that I goofed up. But 6 months after exchanging vows, I was pregnant, by accident. It was a happy accident for me, not for him.
6 months after I gave birth, it was the first time I thought about divorce. I accidently left information on my computer up, and EmCee found it and lost his mind. I figured I would be able to make it work – I had to make it work – for the sake of our son. But it never has – 6 years later and I wish I would have divorced him then.
I’ve got baby fever tonight combined with anger over the way EmCee treats LittleG and me. Why does EmCee refuse to divorce me when we both want different things? Why does EmCee refuse to let me be happy? Why is EmCee’s happiness prevail over my own? Why is it, that if having children is what I want, and EmCee doesn’t – can’t we agree to go separate ways? Oh I get it, and I know why … I make more money than EmCee and I own 51% of our business partnership (of which, EmCee doesn’t do anything for because he works full time at his own job) – but he would never let me own a business by myself because I’m a woman and my vendors would “walk all over” me. I need him according to EmCee … but in reality, he is only with me because of my money – the money that he spends and spends.
I told LittleG tonight that we could leave and be happy. There would be no more yelling, no more hitting, no more hurting. He could see EmCee anytime he wanted, everyday if he wanted to. He could have 2 houses, 2 toy rooms, 2 of everything! I could have brothers and sisters for him… things would be so much happier.
LittleG cried and said NO! I’m staying with Daddy. You can leave. I want to live in the same house as you and Daddy. But I’ll stay with Daddy.
It broke my heart. All I ever wanted was a child. All I ever wanted was children. And my only child, my only son, is rejecting me for a man who is abusive, controlling and has anger management issues. I just don’t know what to do anymore. If I didn’t have LittleG I would run away and never come back. But I fear for LittleG’s safety and his mental well being.
Hello, is anyone out there? Is anyone listening? I need help. I feel so alone. When will it end???
Call failed, yet again. And no I’m not talking about the iPhone. I’m talking about the communication breakdown that is apparent every evening in my home. Tonight, LittleG got a pack of Pokemon cards. He had a double card and asked EmCee to put it in his pocket, he could have the “double” card. EmCee mistakenly thought that LittleG was yet again, asking EmCee to play with him. (Which, wouldn’t be a BAD thing to play with your own son.) Of course it escalated, and wound up with EmCee thinking that LittleG was disrespecting him.
Which ended with EmCee grabbing LittleG by the collar of his shirt and threatening him to stop asking him to play.
“Now, go to your room! Mommy, you deal with him.”
So yet again, I was left cleaning up a teary eyed little mess of a 6 year old boy, once again crushed by his own father.
This has to stop. This isn’t fair to LittleG and it isn’t fair to me. But the only one it is fair to is EmCee, because EmCee got what he wanted – LittleG to leave him alone.
I wound up spending the night cooking for LittleG (in addition to the family who was over for a visit, which I was embarrassed by EmCee’s behavior), doing LittleG’s homework, studying, reading, bathing, and guess what – playing Pokemon cards with.
LittleG is now in bed. I come downstairs and inform EmCee that I have to go downstairs to do work on the business, because I haven’t done work all day.
In a condescending, “greater than thou” tone to his voice he asks, “Well, where were you ALL day?”
“Excuse me? You were home all day and you knew exactly where I was all day, every step of the way. I went to the gym, came home, ran to school ran back home, showered, returned merchandise to the store, went to our store and checked on our employees, picked up LittleG from school, ran to two different grocery stores to get the ingredients for dinner, came home, cooked dinner, entertained the family, took care of LittleG and your asking me where I was all day?”
“Well, where were you ALL day?”
“Go fuck yourself.” I proceeded to walk downstairs, I had no interest in re-explaining what I just did. What HE already knew because I have to check in with him several times a day.
“Go fuck myself?” Pause. “Alright, you’re going to regret that you fucking cunt.”
I run upstairs, “Don’t you call me a cunt, you can try to bully your son, but you’re not going to bully me. Regret it? Is that a threat?”
EmCee’s lip curls up in a snarl and his eyebrows furrow like they always do when he’s mad. “Yea, you heard me. You’re going to regret that. You don’t tell me to go fuck myself.”
“I’m a 33 year old woman. I don’t have to explain my every move to you. And yes, I can tell you to go fuck yourself, because you KNEW exactly where I was today.”
The conversation escalated, with him speaking to me in an extremely condescending manner. I told him that every couple of months this happens, he gets all pissy with LittleG and we have to have a talk about it. Then EmCee cools down for a few weeks before it starts up again.
EmCee went into his typical tirade – “I’m a survivor. I can face anything alone. I don’t need you. Remember, I had nothing, I can return to nothing. And remember, you wouldn’t have anything without me.”
Yea, EmCee GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU ABUSIVE BASTARD.
Without me, you wouldn’t have your business. Without me, you wouldn’t have even been able to file the paperwork for the partnership. Without me, you wouldn’t have opened an ebay store, sold thousands in collectibles (because I listed them all, sold them, packed them and shipped them out for you). Without me, the ebay store wouldn’t have turned into a website (which I stayed up every night for years learning programming, coding, and SEO). Without my first store, the second store wouldn’t have been launched. Without me, there wouldn’t be a business. Without me the website wouldn’t rank on page 1 of google for our search terms. So go fuck yourself Mr. Know-It-All.
Without ME, you, EmCee, would be nothing.
Thank God, I taped the conversation tonight. Now I just have to figure out how to get it off my phone and safely stored onto my computer. I’ve had enough of your verbal, emotional and mental abuse EmCee. This has got to stop. NOW.
What we’ve got here is MORE than a failure to communicate. What we’ve got here is a total breakdown of communication and our relationship. This isn’t a relationship anymore. This is a one way street, your street, and if we don’t follow you’re direction, we are punished. Well, I’m tired of driving in your car. I’m done.
I’m glad I started this blog. If anything, its a constant and continual reinforcement of WHY I want to leave you. You know those days, the good days when I think things will be alright? Well all I have to do is look back on this blog and see how often I post, and I’ll know, the bad days outweigh the good. This isn’t worth it anymore. My life, my happiness and my son’s happiness and mental stability are more important than hoping (and praying) you’ll change. Because you won’t. I used to worry for you, I didn’t want you to be alone if I left. But hey, you said it, you’re a survivor. I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own.
“Nothing can prepare you for living or working with a sociopathic serial bully. It is the most devastating, draining, misunderstood, and ultimately futile experience imaginable” – Tim Field
This quote today was especially important to me because once again EmCee and LittleG once again got into a battle during bathtime last night. EmCee instructed LittleG not to go into the bathtub until the water was tested. LittleG came into my bedroom while I was putting away laundry and I thought he was goofing around so I said to him, “You better go take a bath before Daddy gets mad. We don’t want Daddy mad, do we?” LittleG must have gotten confused by the varying instructions and ran into the bathroom and jumped into the bathtub. EmCee sees this and screams at him on top of his lungs, “What are you a fucking idiot?” I immediately ran into the room and told EmCee, “Stop dropping the F bomb and stop calling him an idiot because he is not one.” Bathtime proceeded as usual, with EmCee firmly disciplining LittleG about the dangers of scalding hot water and why jumping in to an untested tub was not safe. Although I agree that LittleG shouldn’t jump into untested waters, I disagree with the method in which EmCee discussed it. After bath time was over, something else happend (I’m not sure what transpired as I was still putting away laundry) but LittleG came running back into the bedroom crying and EmCee shouting at him about “Fucking Shit” – that’s when I lost my mind and told EmCee to once again stop using the “F-Bomb” and cursing at a 6 year old.
I put LittleG to sleep last night and assured him, “You’re not stupid. You’re not an idiot and you’re not retarded. Daddy is having a bad night again, he doesn’t mean it. But he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” After hugs and kisses the night resumed. EmCee informed me at about 11:30 pm that he “felt badly” for talking to LittleG like that and wanted LittleG to sleep with us in bed. This after EmCee knows that I don’t sleep well with LittleG in bed, but I agreed because LittleG was very upset at his father’s behavior.
So today, I began looking up bullying. Because it feels like I’m living with a bully and a classic verbal / emotional abuser.
Within the quote above, the phrase “sociopathic serial bully” popped out to me – I had never heard of this term, even though I have a Masters in Criminal Justice and took extensive psychology and sociology courses. So I looked it up and lo and behold, I found this page Behavior Of The Serial Bully and what do you know? EmCee fits almost every characteristic on that list!
Now, in the past I have asked EmCee to go for Anger Management counseling and he has refused. EmCee has a “respect” issue as I call it – if he feels like he is being disrespected he gets extremely nasty towards me (or whoever “disrespects” him). Ten years ago I would say to him, “What are you pissed off because I’m a woman?” I honestly thought he secretly had this hidden issue with women being smarter / more independent / etc .. than him. Over the years, my “woman” comment turned into “What are you pissed off because you think you’re older and wiser than me?” (EmCee and I are ten years apart, he’s older). But what I now realize is that EmCee is a serial bully with anger management and control freak issues. Additionally, he’s selfish, manipulative, verbally and emotionally abusive.
In January of this year (2010) I tried (it was the 4th attempt in a year) to leave him. He dragged out a screaming match with me for nearly 24 hours refusing to let me leave the house, refusing to get counseling and even at one point, drawing back his fist to punch me in the face. He wore me down and tired me out until I wouldn’t (or couldn’t) leave. I’ll never forget that day. I begged him to go to counseling but he refused. I called a counselor and made an appointment for myself and asked him to go with me. He said no. Right before I was going to leave, he decided he was going to go, but would only go if I drove him. (Control again, he wouldn’t let me drive alone). When we got to the counselor, he manipulated the counselor and made me look like the bad guy. He told the counselor he was “afraid of being abandoned” and left on the side of the road, the carpet pulled out from under his feet. The counselor said, it was because his Dad left him when he was a child. But my issues, such as verbal abuse, sexual perversion (constant and continual use of pornography), control (i’m not allowed to go places such as the mall by myself, he has to be with me), and his lack of respect towards me in the bedroom – were not real issues that couldn’t be solved.
Upon our return home that afternoon, he badgered me in the car telling me he didn’t want to waist another year of his life in a marriage that he wasn’t wanted in. I told him that I loved him but he needed to change. I told him that we both needed counseling. He said he didn’t need counseling, he was down that road before with his ex-wife and nothing changed (BTW, his abusive issues were all mentioned in the divorce papers from his ex – but he told me she was “crazy” and staged a fake “rape” to get out of the marriage). So here we were with him telling me I couldn’t leave, counseling was not an option and he didn’t want to stay in a marriage that was only going to end.
That evening, I still wanted to leave. He was calm. I walked the dogs and thought about how I was going to leave, where I was going to go, where to take LittleG.
I come back and EmCee tells me, “Go wake up LittleG. You need to tell him that you’re leaving.” So I wake up LittleG and sit him down next to me, I tell him, “Mommy and Daddy aren’t happy so we are going to live apart for a while and you’re going to stay with me. You’ll see Daddy often.”
EmCee interrupted, “No, tell him why you’re really leaving. Tell him you want to go, that YOUR breaking up the family because all you care about is YOUR happiness.”
LittleG falls into tears, hysterical crying. Now EmCee has pulled out his final card – using our son against me to keep me to stay. So I stay, reluctantly, because I can’t see my son being hurt or in pain.
Later on that night, EmCee tells me something I will never forget:
“You hurt people. You’ve always hurt people. This is what you do. You go into relationships and then you leave people.”
I will never forget EmCee telling me that. It cut my heart in two and made me question myself. But that’s what manipulators do. THEY HURT PEOPLE.
In every relationship, there is always a possibility that it won’t last forever (as much as we hope that it does). But things change sometimes, people change. But ultimately, no one enters a relationship just for the sake of hurting someone. And in the end, I am heading for a divorce, because I can no longer live with my bully.
Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.