I really don’t know what just happened. So…this is probably not going to make sense until I look back on it later.
Mister was home for three days. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Just the typical “it’s all about me” stuff. He had some more upgrades that he had made to the phallus while ignoring the fact that my jeep hasn’t had an oil change in nearly a year. I was aggravated for a minute before I reminded myself that I can not depend on him for anything. I’ll figure out a way to get my jeep in shape all by my little ole’ self.
Saturday night, he asked, again, what my plans are. He asked nicely so I know that he is up to something or is lining up the next woman whose soul he intends to suck out of her body. I was honest with him.
I told him that I intend to move far away from him and never see him again. I intend to move my best friend in with me -who is also in an abusive relationship and at 54 years old, has never been allowed to learn how to drive. We can heal together. That’s the plan.
He promptly told me that I am not allowed to move her in with me. He will not tolerate it. I calmly told him that what I do with my life is no longer his concern. He has no control anymore.
That is the last thing I remember. I don’t know what happened.
I have no marks on my body. He couldn’t have hit me. But, I have lost four days.
Today, flashbacks of incidents during our early years, things that are huge red flags now, have been running through my mind. I just feel drained.