My mom used to say: “Treat your man well, and he will treat you the same.” But she was married to my father.
I was married to the devil’s first cousin. In fact, the devil himself probably felt a bit uneasy about the uncanny similarities they shared. I still feel oddly proud that I survived almost 15 years of “hell” with this man.
Ok, maybe I am overreacting a bit – but only a bit! If I now try to remember what exactly was so bad about my marriage, I can almost not put my finger on it. Maybe it was simply the fact that nothing was ever guaranteed. Things were eerily unsettling - never “normal”.
Of course there was the alcohol abuse as well, which made him very unpredictable – sometimes scary, sometimes rude, sometimes just plain irritating… sometimes even romantic or funny! But whatever the mood, it was never “set in stone”. It could change at the drop of a hat or at the accidental rustle of a plastic bag (something that drove him instantly insane) or at the sound of a tune (some songs tripped a switch in his head and turned him into a raving madman).
A dog barking in the distance was a sign of imminent disaster in our house. A trip to the local supermarket could turn into a nightmare.
It wasn’t like that every day. Maybe once a week he would show his bad side, maybe once a month. Sometimes more, sometimes less… but always unexpectedly, and then all hell broke loose and there was that look in his eyes – a look that would scare me half to death!
He carried a gun – one of those heavy revolvers – always tucked into the back of his “slightly-too-big” jeans. Whenever angered, his hand instinctively reached for it.
I was never quite sure whether he was a bit crazy, a complete nutcase, a good actor, or just a cowardly and harmless idiot. Maybe he was a scared little boy inside, trying to fake his way through life, trying to stand up to his strong-willed wife, fighting nameless demons in terrifying nightmares…
Who knows if his fears were bigger than mine?
(written by Tiamari)
Showing all records: