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The story of it all... Part 2.

There I was, sitting with my best friend at a public library doing research on, of all things, a STD.  How humiliating.

  Any way, more time went by...  Another rape incident happened....  All because I had a high school friend over one night and was not available for Manny.  He screamed at me over the phone because I had company at my house and proceeded to hang up on me.  I ended up finding a ride to the office building to confront him.  At first, he wouldn't open the door for me.  When he finally did, I spent hours trying to get him to forgive me.  And when he calmed down enough, he proceeded to throw me on the floor.  The next day, I was sore again.  I had bruises on my arms and legs, as well as carpet burn on my knees. For the second time in my relationship, I didn't speak up because I thought I was doing something wrong.

  Many more months went by, with no more incidents or mention of them. We ended up finding an apartment together and moved in together.  At one point, I had another friend come over and spend some time with me because she was going through some things and just needed some support. Well, the girl ended up spending the night and the whole time she was there, all Manny could do was fantasize about him and I having sex. It was very odd. When I went to bed that night, all he wanted to talk about was having this girl get involved with us. He was obsessed with her having to hear us go at it. Although I was uncomfortable with doing anything with company in the house, I went through with it. I never said a word. The next morning no mention was made and it was as if nothing ever happened.

I guess I should mention that at that time, all of Manny's pay checks were literally being handed over to his wife. She was not allowing him to use any of the money for himself, therefore I had to support us both. Winter time came, and we both were laid off but I was unable to collect unemployment. (Of course he was, but guess where it all went.) So yeah, there we were, living in an apartment we couldn't afford with bills piling up all around us. Eventually we were evicted with no place to go.

  So as we are packing up our belongings, Manny gets this bright idea that we can move in with his wife. He figures that since he is paying bills for that house that he might as well live there. That's right.... All of us living in one house. I reluctantly agreed because there was no way I was going to go live with my mother. We moved in to the basement that was no where near being finished. There wasn't even heat down there. What he ended up doing was hanging black contractors plastic up to the rafters to use as walls and getting space heaters to keep it warm. So yeah, there I was, 20 years old, living in a basement with a man while his wife and kids lived upstairs.  Can't get much more awkward than that, right?  It was really odd sharing meals with a woman who thought of me as a home wrecker.

    Well, as time went by, I would love to say that things got better....  But they didn't. Somehow, I was talked in to letting my pay checks be deposited in to a bank account that I was not able to access.... And then the money disappeared... Not really sure where it went, but I can tell you that Manny's daughters always had name brand clothing and everything they could ever want or dream of. Back then, I used to tell myself that the money was going towards my share of the bills and things like that. I mean, come on, if I needed clothing or anything like that, I would have to perform sexual acts in order to get what I needed.

I wish there had been someone back then that could've warned me or set me straight or something. But sadly, there was no one.  And that is only because I began to be alienated from my friends and family. Not to mention the fact that I was still very ashamed of things that were happening in my relationships.

As time went by, I began to be separated from my friends and family. For instance, if I had taken some time and visited my mother, I would be bombarded with text messages and calls asking where I was, who I was with, and when I was coming home. Just thinking about going somewhere without him used to make me anxious and sick to my stomach. Heaven forbid, I went out with a friend to a bar or something... I would get all kinds of dirty text messages asking me if I was doing anyone, or if I had found someone to bring home to "play with us" or even asking if I wanted to come home and have sex. It got to the point where I didn't leave the house because of him.

There was a point in our relationship that I had really started questioning things... I ended up having an affair with a man I worked with. Well, apparently I was not very good at hiding things, or just that the psycho was that good on snooping... Who knows! Anyway, once he found out about it, he forced me to tell him every single detail of the affair as he had forceful sex with me. It was not enjoyable at all. Just another humiliating part of the relationship. I was never able to live it down either. He was constantly picking fights with me about it, belittling me, calling me a slut... It was a very hurtful blow to my ego. I get it though, I cheated, it was all my fault.

Shortly after my indiscretion, I had made the decision I was going to leave Manny. I had packed a bag and was ready to leave when he begged me to stay. He asked me to marry him. Told me he was going to have his vasectomy reversed so we could have children together. (This after him saying that he never wanted more children, he couldn't see how anyone could love another persons child like their own, he didn't believe in adoption, and oh yeah, he was still married to his wife!!!)

So there I was, 23 years old, engaged to a man that was mentally abusive, jealous, a raging egomaniac, and sometimes sexually abusive to me.


...To Be Continued!...

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