Tuesday morning, September 7, 2010, my State Policeman and I had a long talk over the telephone. A lot of it was a rehash of what we’d recently been emailing, texting, and chatting about via Google -- his plethora of problems with
his girlfriend and his “messy” life -- but some of our verbal exchange had to do with my required appearance in Greene County Court the following day. Suffice it to say, both of us were strained; despite that, we seemed to have favorable discourse which ended on a good note.
I posted a narrative on
I HeArTE JADE regarding my arraignment, mentioning in it -- without going into detail -- a falling out of sorts I had with Tony. In the original entry, I had linked to
pseudo-wife’s Facebook, then, with no desire to out-and-out burn bridges with my sweetheart, or especially reveal him as one of my sources, I went back and removed the link. Once his agency publicly identified him as being the one involved with me and I began this blog, I had no qualms re-linking her page and did just that.
So. Here is the rest of the story, which I would’ve composed at the time had I not been wickedly constrained by my conscience and an emotional attachment to Special Agent Gattuso:
In Richmond, I pulled into the area where Tony had suggested we connect. It was a huge plaza with multiple choices of where to go. After a couple of unsuccessful, highly irritating, efforts to locate the exact store he told me he’d be in front of, I sent him a message informing him, essentially, that I was lost. I obeyed the directions in his reply and soon spotted his SUV.
By the time I exited my car, Tony was standing at my driver’s door with his sturdy arms reaching to sheathe me. Like always, we held each other for a few minutes before we unclasped. With the smidgen of space between us, I gave him a once-over. He looked gorgeous in his navy-blue polo shirt, Levis, and cowboy boots. Although I’d had a less-than-perfect day, and traveled all the way there in a foul mood, my eyes drinking in the man who was gazing at me lifted my spirits instantly.
Since he expressed an interest in it I shared with him how the proceedings in Greene had gone for me, plus how disturbed I’d gotten merely by being in the county that had brought me so much grief due to my husband’s disgusting activities there. Tony listened, occasionally offering words of comfort or annoyance at what I’d endured.
Out of nowhere Tony declared that his inability to give me what I wanted put him in a state of constant worry. I tried to wrap my brain around his announcement and its relevance, but the abrupt disjointedness to our conversation confused me.
He does give me what I want. What is he talking about? I told him not to sweat it, that I was fine with our relationship, that he more than satisfied me. I added I was sorry he was unhappy with the rest of his life and implored him not to let what he erroneously believed I wanted affect us. I assured him, as I’d done so many times in the past, that I wasn’t pushing for anything beyond what we had.
Tony reacted by shouting at me -- a disjointed onslaught about it being tough enough for him trying to meet the demands of pseudo-wife... his family... his co-workers; the idea that he couldn’t also please me had gotten to be too much for him to handle.
Is he breaking up with me? Over something I don’t even feel? I was already far out of sorts from the earlier events of the day and I started to tear up. “See? See? This is why I can’t keep doing this! I make you sad!” he hollered. I noticed his own beautiful brown orbs were pooling.
“You... you... don’t want to see me anymore?” I inquired cautiously, unsure if I could bear an affirmative. I didn’t really get an answer from him. Instead, with his voice raised even louder, he only reiterated how very much he liked me.
I desperately needed him to be straightforward. “So... you
do want to keep seeing me?”
He bellowed “Yes, I want to; I’m not sure how to though.”
By then we’d garnered the attention of multiple people randomly spread throughout the populated square.
Now? He’s doing this to me now, of all days?! The cerebrations catapulted out of my mind and fell off my tongue in front of him. In a flash, on top of being perplexed, I was ticked.
I wasn’t the one who’d sought him out; he was the one who’d contacted me in the first place. I wasn’t the one cheating on anybody. I wasn’t the one who was hiding my true self from my family. “Why are you yelling at me?!” I asked in bewilderment. “I didn’t do
anything! I’ve. Done. Nothing. Wrong.”
Tony paced the concrete, running his hands through his dark hair. He repeatedly apologized for sucking me into his nightmare, insisting I “deserved better” than him.
I flung open the back of my car and retrieved a change of clothes. While he tried to figure out what else to roar at me, I stood there in the open, removed my shoes and shirt, slipped into jeans, wiggled out of my skirt, put another top over my bra, and laced up my Converse. About twelve feet away Tony had stopped moving to watch me. “What are you doing?” he wanted to know. I glared at him and remarked “I’m leaving.” I’d placed my discarded garments in my Camry, and I shifted them aside as I got in. Tony swiftly grabbed and clung to the door to stop me from shutting it. At that point, I didn’t care what was crawling out of his mouth or at what decibel; all I craved was to get away from him.
I fought with the VSP Officer to close the piece of metal between us. He was plainly stronger but eventually he let me win. The last thing I heard him utter was “Do you need me to tell you how to get back from here?” I managed to furnish a refusal and took off.
I, of course, went the wrong way when I left. Many blocks down an unfamiliar street, I retreated to a place to attempt regaining my composure. There I set my head to rest on my arms on the steering wheel and just sobbed. Ultimately -- and I’ve no clue how -- I made it back to my stomping grounds.
I cried nonstop for four days. My boss sent me home from work during that period because I was leaving lakes of tears everywhere. Seriously. Completely inconsolable is an understatement. I was positive I’d never ever hear from my State Policeman again. And then...
