Random snippets of real life drama with an ex-husband who lived to lie and cheat and cover his tracks and situations where he financially, emotionally and physically abused. As in many things in life, the truth was buried…buried deep within the layers of the infamous cheater who we will call Onion Boy (O.B. for short). We will strip away the layers for all to see the loser is not the victim but the man who believes he can lie so well that he will never be caught…
Going back through a journey of time can sometimes be a painful process. However when the past is clouded with lies and deception it becomes more important than anything else to provide the truth once and for all. On this post, we’re going back to the beginning of Feb/93. In January, on my father’s birthday to be exact was the day my world fell apart. O.B. was to have been in Montreal doing a month long job, we spoke on the phone a few times since his departure on Dec.27/92. What a hoopla he had caused by leaving over Christmas, so much so that my parents even changed Christmas dinner so that he could be part of it prior to his departure. Imagine my surprise and delight when I hear the key in the door in our apartment on Jan.7/93. In a five minute conversation at 10pm that night, he told me that he had been at another woman’s place and not in Montreal as he had professed earlier for the prior 2 months. In that same five minutes, he ripped my already fragile world apart. Alone in Mississauga, I had nobody, my family support system was over an hour away. He didn’t want my parents to know because he was very confused at the time and needed some time to think. With that, and my divided loyalties, it sealed my decision not to inform my parents. I honestly thought that I could give him some time. What I didn’t anticipate was that length of time he would bait, hook and reel me in.
I called him about a week or more later, giving him his space, even though I was emotionally wrecked at this time. My days and nights were filled with self-recrimination and disbelief. I was raised with the credo that the things in life that were most valued were the things that you had to work for the very most. I was also raised to believe that a marriage was forever. Loyalty and committment was necessary and that no marriage was perfect, they all need work. So here I sat night after night, my marriage very much a work in progress, it always had been and now that little bit of what I understood was in shambles. As a note of mention, we had several years invested in our relationship at this time. It was 11 years that he had been in my life, he was someone I felt was my absolutely best friend. When I called him, I suggested a dinner out, to talk, nothing more.
We met at one of both of our favourite places, a little pizzeria about 2 minutes from the apartment. We were there for about an hour and a half. The usual chatty owner who knew our faces well, somehow knew not to hover at our table that night. Never one to hide my feelings, it was very obvious that the conversation at the table was private and full of pain.
The obvious questions, I asked. Do you love her? No, he replied. Then why?, I asked. Because she’s very sick, he replied. What kind of sick, I said? She’s dying, he replied, she had been given a very short time to live. Having been in the medical support field for numerous years, I stopped short. I had nothing to say for a moment or two. When I spoke I said this. “Stay with her, nobody should be alone and dealing with this. Be there for her and at the end hold her and help her. After this, come home and we’ll work on re-building what we have and try to move forward.’ He seemed relieved by this, and we carried on our relationship with a new, earnet fervor. He would drop by whenever he had the opportunity and we would spend some exhausting and emotional time together. During this time, I talked to him about going off the pill and trying to have a baby. He was somewhat receptive however he was a little leery of the timing to be truthful. He said that “maybe now is not the right time”, to which I responded that I was thirty soon and when would be the right time? It’s ironic now after all these years, the story I hear that he’s telling others is so much different than the actual events. I guess it’s a way he can look like he’s the victim. Anyway, from that point forward, he was very much resolved to the idea. So much so, that we played hookie from work the day that my daughter was conceived. In the heat of the moment, I remember him saying “I hope we make a little girl”. Ironically, we did. He was always doing a flip-flop. On the morning of the home pregnancy test, (he had moved back in at this time) he seemed lukewarm to my disbelieving and happy eyes, suggesting that I go to the doctor to see for sure. I scheduled the doctor’s appointment and the tests came back quickly. I called him at work to share the news. To say that I was hurt and confused by his reactions in the last few days was an understatement. I chalked it up to the situation with the other woman and her illness. This I believed was a separate stage from which we were moving forward into a new and exciting phase of our lives together. I was not going to be bogged down by his infidelity for he had repeatedly professed his love and his guilt to me. I was determined to show him that I was willing to trust him again and to forgive him for he was the love of my life. His response predictably was lukewarm. I was hurt and confused. Devastated actually.
Now in hindsight, knowing what I now know, I realize now he was a man caught in a lie and was going to spend the next years trying to get out of it. You see, he had also promised the other woman love and committment so much so, that on a trip with her in March/93, they had a beachside wedding ceremony (not legal and binding but a committment ceremony nonetheless)…good ol’ O.B. Whenever there’s a lie, he’s never far away. The truth is a delicate seed that if not given light will never grow to the surface.
Welcome to my life with Onion Boy! – stay tuned for much more.
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