My last post described how I fell in love with my first husband. This post will describe how I fell out of love with him.
A man with any power over Zac was my favorite kind of man, and this man was making a conscious decision to be on my side. He ignored Zac and his parents saying things about me like that I was a slut and a thief and didn't shower.
I told him what Zac did to me. He was immature. My first clue to that should have been his desire to date someone nine years younger than himself. At the time, I thought I was so mature that it didn't matter, but now I know it was a combination of my maturity and his immaturity that put us on equal footing. When I told him about Zac, he was in shock. He didn't say anything really wrong, but he didn't say anything right either.
He told me that Zac wasn't even really his best friend. Zac was just
this guy who wouldn't stop calling until he'd come over and hang out
with him. I could relate to that. That made perfect sense to me. I knew
from experience that that was Zac's M.O. Then he told me he was hanging out with Zac that night. I said I didn't want to influence his decision on whether or not to hang out with Zac, but that was a lie. I should have put an end to things the instant he told me he was still going over there that night, but I wasn't going to give up so easily on this man who I decided was to be my savior.
I called my first husband (then boyfriend) later that night, hoping to ease the conversation back to Zac and hear that he had realized it wasn't ok for him to continue their friendship. He was still at Zac's when I called and so I immediately said I would let him go and asked him to call me when he got home. After we hung up, apparently Zac got weird. He asked his best friend who he loved more, me or Zac. When my boyfriend answered that it was me, Zac went from weird to crazy. He jumped my boyfriend and repeatedly slammed his head into a coffee table. One of my other cousins was there and he described the brutality to me. He said that he let it go for a minute, thinking my boyfriend would fight back, but when that didn't happen he grabbed Zac and dragged him off my boyfriend, who immediately left.
That beating became his reason for not wanting to hang out with Zac anymore. It was completely unsatisfying to me and I was hurt that his reasons were about himself and not me. After a few months, when his anger about the beating had died down, Zac struck. While I was at work, he contacted my boyfriend to apologize. My boyfriend then brought me up and what had happened. Zac stated that was an in-person conversation and they decided to meet at mine and my boyfriend's favorite restaurant for dinner. I knew nothing of this until I called my boyfriend on my way home after work. I had thought it was finally over, but here they were, having dinner together...in our restaurant of all places. My boyfriend suggested it.
He told me it was no big deal, they talked about it over dinner and a pitcher of beer. "Who paid for the beer?" I asked angrily. There was no good answer to this, both options were equally disgusting. "I can't believe you went out with him, to OUR place, and let him buy you beer!" I was outraged. "And you discussed him abusing me like it was dinner conversation....without my knowledge!" I couldn't go to him after hearing that. Instead, I went to my friend Thomas' place. He had an open door policy and bunk beds, but most importantly, he was the one person who had saved me from Zac before and I would feel safe with him.
Why didn't I try to date Thomas instead? He was my friend. My only male friend I hadn't had sex with. That was special. That was sacred to me. He was already filling a much more important role in my life than boyfriend. Thomas was supportive that night without asking me any questions. When I started angrily texting my boyfriend, he urged me to turn off my phone and sleep on it, so I did.
The next day, I was in a slightly more rational frame of mind to talk to my boyfriend and I told him on no uncertain terms that I could not handle him being friends with Zac. No texting, no calling, no dinners, no hanging out of any kind. He agreed to those terms, but it was still incredibly hurtful that I was the one who had to set them. However, now that Zac knew my boyfriend knew, he was too scared to try anything with me and I was safe. That trumped my hurt feelings easily back then. Back then I was much more afraid than angry. Now, I am too angry to be afraid anymore.
My boyfriend had asked me to marry him before that infamous dinner with Zac and that seemed like a nice permanent way to keep safe and I did really love him. We were living with his sister at the time and she was very happy for us. I liked her a lot. When I didn't come home that night and went to Thomas' instead, I felt like I owed her an explanation. She was a social worker so, though I was nervous, I wasn't as nervous to tell her as I was to tell others. I told her my story, or at least the highlights. Her immediate reaction was, "What is wrong with your family?" If someone tells you their cousin molested them, please show them your love BEFORE you go on the attack. They are vulnerable and scared and they need immediate reassurance. I explained to her that most of them didn't know. She then lectured me on how I shouldn't get married to her brother, because I was too much of a mess. I'm not saying she was wrong, but the way she went about it was extremely rough and unsympathetic. We had gone on a walk for our little talk and when we got back she immediately wanted to talk to both of us in her living room. She criticized me harshly for not coming home that night and for going to another man's apartment. She said I needed professional help and that I shouldn't be marrying anyone until I got it. The first part was complete BS. She didn't' know anything about my friends, but if she did, she would know that not only was Thomas' the only place I felt was safe for me, it was also the only place I felt safe for the possibility of continuing my relationship with her brother. All of my female friends would have had the reaction of begging for details and then trying to get me laid by a "better" guy. She was right about the second part though, and I thought getting help was a good idea. My fiance disagreed. He went on and on about how I didn't need a psychologist or psychiatrist and that they were all quacks.
The next morning, I could hear her downstairs making fun of her brother for not knowing the difference between psychiatry and psychology. Her attitude throughout this ordeal had been less than encouraging and I was annoyed with her lack of empathy and class. I went downstairs and told her that it was a common mistake and that I didn't think it was right for her to make fun of him like that. She responded by kicking me out of her house....full blown, throwing my stuff out on her porch craziness.
So my fiance and I got an apartment together. We fought about Zac occasionally because I had PTSD and he thought I should just "get over it". It was 13 years of my life and had only stopped occurring less than one year ago...but I should just get over it. After one year, or ten, or a hundred, never tell a rape victim to just get over it. Never tell anyone who has experienced tragedy of that magnitude to get over it.
My uncle invited us to his wedding reception and of course, Zac was there with his flavor of the month. I avoided them, and everything was going alright until she came over to me. She started spouting off what a "good person" he was and how it was wrong of me to hate him for "no reason". I responded that I did not think he was a good person and I was free to hate anyone I liked. She turned to my fiance and said, "HE knows Zac is a good person." I waited, but he said nothing. I couldn't believe his silence. "Did you know Zac repeatedly bashed his head into a coffee table and that is why he isn't speaking to him?" It was a half truth, and all I felt comfortable disclosing when I had no back up. She looked shocked and said she didn't know that, but Zac was still a good person.
I ran.
I ran and sobbed and had no idea what to do. I didn't want to be anywhere near my fiance who had refused to even say that he didn't think Zac was a good person, so I wasn't going home with him, but there were guests everywhere. Someone got me inside the house in a room and several of my aunts sat with me. Some of them knew, but not all of them. One who didn't gave me some very good advice. "Decide if this is something you can live with before you marry him, because it won't change."
This past year was the first year I hadn't been raped. Being with my fiance was keeping me from being raped. If I had to be alone in my pain, at least I was physically safe. I decided I could live with that. I would have decided differently today.
I apologized to my uncle for "ruing his wedding reception" and he replied that he knew it was a possibility when he chose to invite us both. Since he knew what Zac had done, I wanted to ask him why he invited Zac at all...why would he want such a monster there for his special day, especially knowing there was a possibility that he could trigger me, or even maybe get me alone to hurt me again, but I was too scared of his answer. If he ever does want to answer me on that, I'm not scared anymore, but that's because I know the answer now. I figured it out on my own because there is only one answer. It just didn't seem as important as not offending Zac. My safety wasn't as important as offending Zac and his parents by not inviting him. It might not have been important because he didn't understand, but he's a smart man, so I think it's more likely that he was too cowardly to bother to understand.
After that, my fiance admitted that he did think the rapes were partially my fault and he wasn't going to cause a scene for me. He reiterated his promise never to speak to Zac again and I let it be. For years that's how it was and that was enough for me. Then one of my aunt's died.
One of her sons asked me if I would be willing to forgive Zac for family unity. It had been three years at this point, three years of seeing him at family gatherings and no rapes. I said I would, for my cousin who needed his family and my husband was very happy with my decision. The whole group headed over to Zac's parents house for family solace, but not many stayed long, and those who did went to bed quickly. Soon it was only me, my husband, one of my cousins, and Zac.
Zac finally approached me and asked if we could speak privately. We went out to the garage and he started to talk about his attraction to me. I tried to be nice and understanding and supportive, but before he got around to actually apologizing he ordered me to show him my tits. Shocked I emphatically said "NO!" He tried to get me to again and I left the garage. I was in shock that what I thought was going to be an apology had just been another attempt at rape. I sat down on the couch next to my husband, numb and clearly upset. My husband didn't notice, and he got up, left me, and went out on the back deck with Zac who had gestured for him to follow. They smoked their cigarettes and talked while I sat dumbfounded on the couch. My cousin noticed my state and asked me what was going on. I blurted out what had happened and he too was completely shocked.
When my husband and Zac came back in, Zac headed straight for the garage and my husband sat down next to me. "Zac wants to talk to you some more." he told me. "I don't want to talk to him." I whispered back. He got annoyed, "Why are you doing this? You promised to forgive him! Just go talk to him!" I shook my head and stayed put, reeling from his anger and his complete lack of awareness. Then he said something that made me snap. "He wants you to get him a drink too." All rational thought left my brain and I stood up. "Fine! Fine! I will go get him a drink and I will go be alone with him in that garage and I will let him do whatever he wants just like always!" I grabbed a beer from the fridge and caught my cousin's eye as I started to head out. He shook his head, his eyes clearly saying WTF are you doing? and I glanced back at my husband who looked nonplussed.
I had barely handed Zac his drink when my cousin came after me and put his body in between the two of us. "If you touch her I will kill you" he said. I pulled him back and my sanity returned "No, I don't want any fighting, I want to leave, we are leaving." My confused husband said ok and headed out the door. Zac grabbed me and told me to call him. I replied that I didn't have his number. I meant to sound scornful, but I must have just sounded afraid because he followed that up with "find me on facebook." I found him on facebook alright. I found him blocked him.
As we were driving home I filled my husband in on what had happened. He pulled into a parking lot to turn around, saying he was going back. I jumped out of the moving vehicle screaming. "No! No! You will not take me back there!" Only after he promised to take me home, did I get back into the car. The idea of this person, who had done the exact opposite of keep me safe taking me back there....it was terrifying. I said I wanted to go out with my cousin who had protected me. He was at some 24 hour diner and I wanted to be with him right then. My husband told me that if I left we would get a divorce. He also said that if I didn't stop talking about it to him we would get a divorce.
Gone were the feelings of safety that my husband had produced, gone was my respect for him as a "good man"...and at Christmas that year...he didn't talk to Zac, but he did shake his hand. I'll never forget how I felt as I watched him do that. Gone was my love for him.
