By the summer of 1995 I was very much in love with Michael.
So much so that I proposed to him twice, and both times he turned me down. I
did not want to be in love with him, because he was still with Charlie, his
girlfriend. It was a very mixed
emotional and difficult time for me. I
in no way wanted to hurt her. I never
believed I would ever fall in love, marry, or have children. I had been told all my life I was too fat and
too ugly for such a thing to happen to me.
So the idea that Michael wanted me was just overwhelming. I soaked it up like a sponge. Every moment of attention I hid in my
heart. What we were doing was wrong, but
I could not bring myself to stop. Mike’s
hold on me, as threw out most of our relationship was hypnotic.
That Summer of 1995 Charlie was in Baton Rouge, Mike was in
Shreveport and I was in Keatchie. I was
an hour away, compared to her 6 hours away.
Mike and I spent every moment we could together, locked in each other’s
arms, and each other’s bedrooms. The
rule was no clothes off. Everything else
was fair game. We kissed, groped, dry
humped all to the point of orgasm. But
no we never had sex, just everything but.
I never realized until now maybe he just wanted me for the thrill of the
affair. Maybe he was using me ever then.
Who knows?
Now I knew about the porn.
I found the tape in his player.
His magazines while putting up his socks and making his bed. I knew about the ones under his bed and in
his night stand. I explained it
way. He misses Charlie. He’s not getting sex on a regular basis. I think that summer he only made one trip to
Baton Rouge to see her. Course then
money was tight and neither one of us was working at the time. I figured the porn would go away once we got
together and he got sex regularly. That
he would grow out of it. He never did
and it only got worse.
In August of 1995 Mike went back to NSU and I went back to
USL. With heavy hearts we parted
ways. Mike reported for band camp, a few
weeks before Charlie was to report for school.
A few days after he arrived she called to break up with him. They remained friendly threw out our
marriage. Charlie would confide in me
years later that she had broke up with him over the phone because she was
terrified he would hit her.
Mike had a violent streak, although he never hit me, he hit everything
else. The walls in our home had holes in
them. I learned early on not to keep
glass in frames, because when he would beat the walls, our pictures would fly
off and the glass would break. I kept
boxes of telephones on hand, usually three at a time, because he would break
the phones so often. He had road rage and would beat the steering wheel so bad
it had no cover left on it. This was pre
airbag days. The cover came off and for
years he beat the part where the metal part for the horn was, until it had a
dent in it. He would throw temper
tantrums if he did not get his way. He
would bang his fists against his leg, gnash his teeth, and stomp his foot. And he did this in public with me many
times. I always feared I would be
next. And he had no remorse for any of
it. None of these things he showed until after we officially became a
couple.
Where there warning signs?
Yes there were warning signs.
Experts have come out in the last few years and told women not to date
men with holes punched in their walls, because one day it will be your
face. The first time I walked into
Mike’s family home I was shocked to see this nice suburban home so
destroyed. There were holes in the walls
and holes in the doors. Nicholas,
Michael’s younger brother had no door.
It had been destroyed.
Mike and Nicholas were violent towards each other. Always yelling and screaming. I’ve seen then try to kill each other with
baseball bats. Their mom was no better,
constantly screaming at them. Mike’s
father, a former news editor, had long ago checked out. Yet I believed I could be a positive
influence on the situation and I could fix Mike and his family, with love and
understanding.
Ilsa
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