a christmas story

a day or so before christmas it got a little crazy. i said i hated him and wanted to leave. i'm not sure what he thought this was going to be, but i know i thought it was going to be perfect. maybe we were a little neive, but i just wanted to be happy

he was yelling about a lot of things and said i was taking everything away from him. he asked what i care about...he looked down at this jewelry box that my mom bought me and i knew he wanted to break it, but for some reason he went on looking for something else. i guess he cares a little. he moved to a vase that my mom sent me flowers in once. he said," do you care about this!" and threw it to the wall. it caught the wall a little off guard i guess, and left a big hole. the vase landed on the carpet just fine. not wanting it to get the best of him he picked it up and shattered it on the tile floor in front of the door.

it scared the shit out of me.
the house phone was ripped off the wall laying on the floor from another fight so i went to find my cell phone incase he made a move for me. he saw me go for the phone and started getting mad about the thought of me calling the police on him.

he melted down and fell to his knees in front of the cabinets in the kitchen. laid his forehead on the counter and started to cry. it made me feel terrible so i tried to comfort him, but only a little because this was the type of thing that made me not leave before. i mean i didn't want him to kill himself. he got up, walked to the table and grabbed a chair. raised it above his head and started smashing it on the ground while yelling, "Look! this is what you're doing to us!" still crying.

this also scared the shit out of me...as silly as it looked.

so i backed up to the far wall grabbing at my phone. i thought i was about to get pounded. i really was only going to call security forces so i could get some clothes together and get us out of the house without him stopping us. he saw me about to call and rushed me for the phone. i remember just saying," stay back! don't touch me!" over and over. he is a lot taller and stronger so he could have had the phone...
thats the closest i've come to dialing 911. i had it in the phone and had my finger on the "talk" button, but he backed off. He walked over to the christmas tree and spiked it on the floor.

merry fuckin' christmas.

all while our 11 month old was taking a nap. we cleaned up the glass, now theres a bulletin board over the hole in the wall, we got a new house phone, got rid of the cell phone, and i decided to stay.
i guess its all a part of learning to love someone.