Right?

Ok - Let's go over where we are at...

19 years old. No parents.  Murder Trial.  Life changed forever.

What’s a girl to do next?  Oh yes!  Look for someone to love her.

Which takes me to a man we will call Juan.

Juan worked in the warehouse at the furniture store I worked at.  I would not have much contact with him on a day to day basis, but when I saw him he was always very nice.  One day I realized that he suddenly always took his lunch the same time I did – so I would run into him in the breakrooms.  He was quiet, but he was always watching me – and not in a creepy way.  You could just tell he was amused.

One day he finally got the courage up to ask me out and I said yes.  I was 19 and he was 29.  But he was a very shy 29 and I was a very rambunctious 19.  So I did not think anything of the age difference.  We laughed and had a great time.  One date turned into two, turned into almost every day.

He kept things very separated at work, but I would find sweet little notes from him hidden around my work area throughout the day.

After a month or so I met his mother.  She was very loving and kind to me.

After three months he thought it was best if I moved in with him.  He had his own house and thought that my roommates were too wild.  I had two guy roommates and one girl roommate.  He had only met them once, except for my girl roommate.  He thought she was kind of “trashy.”

I could see that he was just very protective of me. Right?

And he loved me and wanted to be with me all the time. Right?

He gave me a budget to buy things for the house, new furniture, decorations so I could make it my home.  So that means he wanted to really settle down with me, right?

Then, one day he asked me to marry him. Out of the blue.  We had only been together for five months, but I was his whole world.  We spent every waking hour outside of work with each other.  He adored me.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.  FINALLY… I had met someone who truly loved me no matter what. I finally found my soul mate, and he would take care of me and make sure nothing ever happened to me again.  Right?

But slowly things started changing.  He got to the point where he REALLY did not like my old roommates and now did not want me hanging out with them at all. They were wild, and I was now with him…. So maybe that was good for me?

And then it was my car.  We were ALWAYS together and worked together.  We did not need to make two payments.  Let’s get rid of my car and save the money to add that additional bathroom to the house we talked about?  Made sense to me!

And then I got pregnant.

He was SO HAPPY!  He cried, hugged me, kissed me.  Called everyone he knew.  Told everyone at work.  He just COULD NOT stop talking about it.  I was scared, but I was so happy that he was so happy about it.  And were getting married, so this would be the next step anyway, right?

But if I thought things were slowly changing before…. They were on a FAST TRACK NOW!

At first I just thought he was being over protective of me.  Because I was pregnant.  He started having me eat different foods.  He wanted me to change to part time hours so I had more time to rest.

But now that I was making less money, wouldn’t it make sense for me to disconnect my phone number and get a new one under his plan so that he could pay for it for me.  Ok.  This all makes sense. Right?

Then one night I went Christmas shopping for him.  I had left him a note that I would be back soon.  My girlfriend picked me up from the house. We were at the mall until after closing. I came home loaded up with presents.  I had found so many awesome presents for him and I could not wait till he opened them!  But for some reason, in the pit of my stomach – I knew he would not be happy.

But why?  Why did I feel this way?Because I was coming home at 9:30?  Because I had not told him I was going to be gone?  Because I had my friend pick me up?  No!  That was silly!  Why would he be mad at that?

But he was.

So when I opened the front door, and the lamp came flying at my head – and crashed against the doorway – my girlfriend (who was backing out of the driveway) stopped and yelled.  I ran after her, down the driveway, and we sped away.  All of my shopping bags dropped on the front porch.  I left with only my purse.

I was in shock, sobbing.

She told me she would take me to her house, but he knew where she lived, and I did not want him to follow me there.  So I had her take me to my old house with my roommates. But that is exactly where he found me hours later.  Crying.  Begging for me to come home.

And I did.  Because he loved me, and he was just worried about me when I was out so late.  Right?

But the next day the stress set off my morning sickness. And that was it.

I had never experienced something so traumatic in my life.  I was so sick!  Every hour… on the hour… 24 hours a day.  I could not keep anything down.  He would have his mother come and stay with me while he was at work and she would try so hard to feed me.  She did not speak English, but she understood me.  She would pray over me and wipe my face.  Feed me broth.  Nothing.

For two months straight I never left my bed.  I was so depressed, sitting in a dark room with no one to talk to.  I was so sick I could not even talk on the phone.

I was looking for something to cheer me up.  I just remember that the movie The Bird Cage, with Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, had just come out on HBO and was playing nonstop. For some reason that was the only movie I watched over and over again for weeks.  I think the bright colors and silly banter kept me sane.

But in only a few weeks I had lost 26 pounds.  I had been to the doctor several times and no matter what he gave me I could not stop throwing up.  I was so sick I could barely walk to the car, or to the doctor’s office.

And while I lay in that bed I knew that I was in a bad spot.  He was more controlling than ever.  In a weird way.  He would tell me how to sleep, when he thought and what he thought I would try to eat.  And he kept making excuses of why I could not call any of my friends to get advice.  Why I could not call my Bumpa or Obaba.

I knew I was trapped.

One day I woke up.  I could hear his mother cleaning around the house. I walked into the kitchen and looked out the window.  There were workers there, building a large, electric, wrought iron fence around the house.  I began to sob.  I knew he was building my cell around me.

And then I fainted.

I woke up to his mother praying over me in Spanish, wiping my head.  “I know Mija.  Esta tambien. I know.”

I begged her for her phone.  She gave it me.  I made one phone call, and I was on my way to the clinic.  As I left, with nothing but my purse, I kissed her cheek and thanked her.  She hugged me and said goodbye.  “I know, Mija.”  She knew that I was never coming back.

At the clinic, they rushed me back since I was throwing up in a bag then whole way in.

I spoke with the doctor and he brought in another doctor.  I explained everything.  I begged them to do as I asked.  And they complied.

I went into surgery and they put me to sleep.When I woke up there were three nurses standing over me with the Doctor.  They explained that that the abortion was successful.  I find that statement ironic.

Then they went on to tell me that they had a hard time waking me up.  I had lost so much weight, and was so weak, that they had to essentially pump me with sugar water to wake me up.  They were feeding me now and somehow I was able to keep it down.

I was so weak they made me stay for hours under observation.  Don’t worry, they said, he will not find me.

And he never did.  I believe that his mother told him to leave me alone.

This was the hardest decision I had made in my entire life.  But it was the best and only thing I could have done in my situation.

It was January 6th.  A date that I remember every year.  And so when Mia’s due date came up as January 6th – I knew I would ensure I did not have her that day.  And I didn’t.

And then my Obaba died on January 6th.  Is she holding my baby in her arms?  I don’t know.  But I would like to think so.

As I sit and write this chapter of my life I realize.  I do not have ONE FREAKING picture of this entire time.  It was only about nine months of my life.  But how weird.  How do I not have ONE PICTURE of this entire nine months?  Not one of Juan.. or any other pictures that took place during our relationship.  Pretty telling… right?

But this is where I ran away to Phoenix to work with the computer nerd and Virtual Reality stuff.  Because I was running away, remember?  But now you know it was a whole bunch of crazy shit I was running away from.

I’ll tell you though.  After this…. I promised myself I would NEVER give up any control to a man again.  I WOULD never need a DIME from any man.  Or anyone else for that matter.

I was on a mission to kick ass and not EVER need help from anyone again!

Fucking wrought iron fence.