I don't see how a person who's constantly telling me he loves me, can continue to break my heart repeatedly. I try to be nice, I try to make things easy on him at my expense...and what do I get in return? Stepped on, over and over again. Of all the dirty shit he's ever done, I never thought in a million years he'd do what he's done now. I didn't think it could get any worse than him leaving me when I needed him the most, expecting me to sacrafice my life for his beliefs, lying to me...but it can. He fucking spanked our daughter, and that's the last damn straw.
J flinched today...She was playing with my bracelet and I didn't want her to break it, so I reached over to take it from her and she flinched...like she expected me to hit her. My first thought was to go murder his fucking mother...since we had a serious falling out over the spanking issue before J was even born (see entry Mother-In-Law Drama). My first instinct was to go over there and beat the shit out of her right then and there, but I decided to wait until Kevin got off so I could ask him about it. J isn't supposed to be around his mother alone anyway, so we had some talking to do.
Good thing I waited, I would have been going after the wrong person. I called him when he got off and told him what happened, then I asked him if his mother had been hitting J. You know what he said to me? "No, I did."...like it was nothing, like it was just the most normal thing to say. All I could manage to get out was a rather incredulous "what?"...so he said "I spanked her, she wasn't doing what I told her to do." I didn't say anymore on the phone, I just told him to stay where he was and I'd meet him at his apartment. He should have known what was coming...I was eerily calm on the phone. If he was a smart man he would have left.
He answered the door and I punched him right in the fucking nose. I'm not a fighter by any means, but I have a pretty effective right hook if I'm provoked. He looked like he wanted to hit me back, but he didn't...instead he did the smart thing and called Scott and told him he better come get me. In the meantime, I laid into his ass. I told him he better not ever hit my child again. I couldn't believe he did that...we'd had that discussion a long time ago. I don't believe in hitting kids...especially not 2 year olds. He's a grown ass man, there is no reason for him to be hitting a 2 year old girl.
All because she wasn't doing what he told her to do? I don't give a fuck if she told him to "shut the fuck up bitch"...you don't put your fucking hands on her like that. He had our wedding picture on a table...I threw that bitch at him. He's lucky Scott got there when he did because I would have picked up a knife and fucking cut his throat if he hadn't been holding me back. I told him I never thought he'd be suck a fuck up he'd actually go so far as to hurt his own daughter just to piss me off.
I went through his apartment and took everything of J's. Then I told him he no longer has a daughter. I'm so fucking tired of him making me be a person I'm not. I never wanted to remove him from her life...I can't even comprehend the concept of not having your father in your life...but there's no way in hell I'm willing to sacrafice her safety for it. I put up with a lot of shit, but he's gone too far this time, he has pushed the wrong button for the last time...I'll do what I have to do.
I drove myself back home and Scott followed. He knew what was coming. I took out a fresh bottle of vodka and started drinking it like it was the last bottle on earth. I was so pissed off I couldn't stop trembling...I probably spilled as much of it as I drank. He just watched me for a while before he came over and gently removed it from my hands...he didn't say a word, he knows when to give me space. I broke down...I needed to. I started screaming, and crying, and breaking everything I could get my hands on.
He just watched and let me get it all out, then stopped me when I'd done enough damage. He still didn't say a word, jut let me collapse into his arms and ruin his shirt with tears. Then he led me to the bathroom and cleaned all the glass shards from my hands...bandaged all the cuts, and iced the hand I punched Kevin with. When he was done he kissed my hands, and my head...then left, still not saying a word. He knows me too well.
So here I am...with a sore throat, a broken hand, a cut up hand...and a fatherless child.
10:48 p.m. - 2004-06-15
Recent entries:
Goodbye Diaryland. - 2005-03-24
Happy Birthday Asha! - 2005-03-21
Six Fucking Hours! - 2005-03-13
My Baby Shower: Chock Full O' Debauchery - 2005-03-06
Peanut Butter Saves Lives! - 2005-03-02
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