Editor’s Note: The following article is an excerpt from my manuscript detailing my own abuse. Please see “My Story of Abuse” under the category link.
After getting back home from the expensive vacation, Michael and I continued to drift apart. Joshua seemed quite pleased about it all. He said Mom, “He is such a jerk and totally ruined our vacation.” I couldn’t disagree with him. So, I put the breaks on and Michael began stalking me. I went to class on Wednesday night from 7-10 p.m. for an evening class. I happened to look out the window at break time and there he was standing down by my car. I thought to myself, “Is he going to stand there for an hour and a half waiting on me. And, indeed, he did.
When I reached the car he seemed quite anxious and upset. He said, “Please just let me talk to you.” I really didn’t want to talk to him and quite frankly, I was a little afraid of him.
We got home, and he followed me into the office downstairs. He got down on one knee and said, “Please marry me.” I wanted to say, “Are you friggin’ nuts or what!” But, I controlled myself—thinking it was in my best interest. I said, “Do you mean right now?” He said, “Yes, we’ll go to Niagara and get married.” I replied, “Let me understand correctly—we spent an entire week on an expensive vacation that you ruined and now you want to get married?” He replied, “We should have gotten married six months after we started dating and we’d be forced to work our differences out.”
There was no way in hell I was going to marry him that night or any other night. I told him I thought we needed a break from each other. His response was, “How do we fix anything if we’re not seeing each other.” I said, “Michael, I am not marrying you tonight and I’m tired. You need to go home and reflect on the week we just spent together.
Much to my relief he left. He stayed away for a week and was back. He acted like nothing had happened. I knew it was passed time to end this relationship, but I did care about him. He came in one day and was in the basement doing something. I went downstairs to check on him and made a joke he didn’t think was funny. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up about an inch from his nose. He responded, “Damn it, Victoria, why won’t you marry me?” He was hurting my arm, and I told him to let go. He pulled me even closer and said, “Don’t forget this—because I can hurt you a whole lot worse.” Then, he let go of my arm.
I went immediately back up the steps and waited for him to leave. Once he left I locked the doors and that was the end of Michael.