The Homicide Detective (Part Two)

After about a year things got to a really bad place. He had been the only man who’d been able to really break me down and make me lose myself. I grew up watching my father be emotionally abusive to my mom and I swore I’d never end up in a relationship like that, and here I was living it. I would tell Matt this during every long emotional argument and he’d always apologize and say he didn’t want to do that to me. Another of his many lies because he always would do it again, and again. I became afraid of him, and not just because he slept over with his gun right next to the bed, which looking back was also pretty frightening. I was out to dinner with a friend one night and left her in the restaurant while I stepped outside for what I expected to be a quick conversation with Matt. It was snowing and freezing that night, but because I thought I was just stepping out for a minute I didn’t bring my coat. He picked a fight and was so manipulative and threatening that he managed to keep me on the phone for a half hour, even though I told him I was cold and my friend was waiting. He told me if I hung up with him then we were over. I should have taken that enticing offer, but instead I stayed out in the cold and came back to an angry friend who was confused by my new found inconsideration. After that I started avoiding going out with my friends. It was easier to just stay home then to even go out to dinner with friends, since I knew it would just end up in a fight.

The reality of the situation really began to really sink in while I was out visiting Gavin and Raven in California. We were at Disneyland, and I should have been having a great time, but instead I was on the phone with Matt most of the time, and snapping at my friends for making jokes in the background. They sat me down and had an intervention of sorts. Raven even cried and said she couldn’t stand to see me this way. Gavin told me I was one of the most optimistic and happy people he’d ever known, but that in the past year he didn’t see that person anymore. I was shocked that I was viewed this way. I hadn’t realized my friends could sense how flawed and defective the relationship was even as I’d tried to hide it from them all. I felt trapped and broken, and somehow dependent upon this screwed up relationship. Inside I was screaming to be freed from this torturous relationship but on the outside, I was hanging on to it, and him, with fervor. I was completely lost. It was almost as if I’d been brainwashed and, in a way, that’s exactly what he’d done with his manipulation. He took advantage of how trusting I was and how naive. He knew exactly how to use my weaknesses to his advantage.

I started becoming more certain that he was being completely dishonest with me as more time went by. The information he kept giving me didn’t add up. On one of our vacations after he’d taken a private shower and finished blow drying his fake hair behind closed doors, I went in to shower but realized I’d forgotten my face wash, so I left the water running and went out to get it. When I came out he was on the phone and acted kind of nervous and surprised as if he’d been caught. I went back and finished my shower and when I came out I asked who he'd been talking to. He said it was one of his construction guys, that there had been a problem, and he proceeded to tell me a story I was pretty certain he’d made up on the spot. He said he had to call him back to make sure everything was resolved. He then supposedly called his "worker” and while he was supposedly talking to him I knew in my gut that he hadn’t been speaking to one of his guys when I’d walked out of the bathroom earlier, and I also knew that he wasn’t really talking to anyone right now. I believed he was making a pretend phone call to solidify his story and I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I went over to him, smiled and sat on his lap, and tried to kiss his neck to get as close to the phone as possible so I could hear if there was a voice on the other end. He seemed uncomfortable and even moved the phone to the other ear furthest from me. I looked at the clock and made a mental note of the time.

Later, when we were on the beach, I said I needed to go back to the room and get more sun block. While in the room I grabbed his cell phone and looked at his outgoing calls. I’d made a note of the time he’d made the phone call I'd believed to be fake and, sure enough, no call was made at that time. Liar. I looked at the call he’d made right before that, the call I’d walked in on when I'd come out from the shower, and I wrote down the number. I used *67 to make my number private and I called it from my phone. It wasn’t one of his work men, it was a woman with a New York accent almost as thick as Matt’s. I hung up. His wife. Has to be. Bastard. I saw another number he’d called earlier that day. A different number, but when I called it, the same woman’s voice answered. I could have confronted him but I didn’t. I can’t really explain why. Part of me was afraid of him and part of me just still didn’t want to admit to myself what a fool I’d been. Another part of me still felt like I loved him and wanted to believe that even if he was lying, it didn’t mean he was still with her, that maybe he was calling about the kids, or so I hoped. Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of Matt…yet.

The beginning of the end came while we were on vacation in Aruba for my birthday. We were downstairs at the hotel casino playing blackjack. He was losing so badly that I was shaking my head and laughing. I couldn’t believe how bad our luck was going and I was trying to lighten the mood. We finally left the tables and were walking back to the room to freshen up before we headed to dinner. Matt was acting cold. I asked what was wrong and he started getting upset and telling me that it wasn’t funny we'd lost. I said I wasn’t laughing because it was funny, I just couldn’t believe our bad luck. I told him it wasn’t worth getting upset over, you can’t take gambling too seriously. He told me that was easy for me to say since it wasn’t my money being lost. By the time we got back to the room a full blown argument had ensued. I didn’t understand what he was so upset about, and I couldn’t believe he was yelling at me on my birthday. Then he looked at me in the midst of his shouting, with anger in his eyes, and reached out and grabbed my throat hard with his hand. I lost it then. I ran from him to the other end of the room and screamed at him to stay the hell away from me when he tried to come closer. He tried to calm me down and I wanted nothing to do with it. I ended up bawling, in a puddle on the floor, on my birthday, in the middle of Aruba. I slept there that night, on the floor. On the flight home we didn’t speak. I looked over at him at one point and I saw tears sliding down his face. I shouldn’t have, but I grabbed his hand and held it while he cried. I would love to say that was the end of Matt, but unfortunately I stayed with him a little longer........To Be Continued........

The Homicide Detective (Part Three)

The end finally came on a regular day with a regular fight. I was leaving to visit Gavin for a few days in California the next day and I ended up on the phone all night fighting with Matt, per the usual. I ended the conversation by breaking up with him. I should express that this wasn’t the first time I’d broken up with him, but every other time, I’d accept his apology the next day and we'd get back together. I was determined for this time to be different. I’d had enough. When I was with Gavin, Matt was continuously texting and calling me and leaving me messages. I made Gavin read the texts and listen to the voice mails. I couldn’t hear his manipulating voice without being affected and I knew it, so I had Gavin interpret his messages since I didn’t have the strength to just delete them. Hearing Gavin interpret what Matt said made me more aware of how ridiculous his messages were and how manipulative they were. He didn’t think I was serious about the break up and kept begging me to just contact him to let him know I was o.k. Gavin advised me to text him saying: I’m fine and I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore, take care. I managed to do it and my phone blew up after that. I finally turned it off to avoid seeing his calls. He didn’t think I’d actually break up with him and now he was in panic mode. Good. It was his turn for a change.

I stayed with Gavin for almost a week before returning to New York, avoiding Matt’s calls the entire visit and gaining some much needed perspective. When I got home I realized I couldn’t stay there, in New York. I had been contemplating moving home at some point and thought now would be the perfect opportunity. I knew I couldn’t stay there without getting back together with him. I knew he wouldn’t let up until he convinced me to take him back and I wasn’t going to stick around and let him have that opportunity. Within two weeks I'd found an apartment in Los Angeles, found a replacement tenant for my apartment in New York, and had myself transferred from the New York flight attendant base to the one in California. It was a shocking and sudden move, but it was the best decision I could have made. Matt still tried to contact me, but I didn’t respond, and he eventually gave up .

On a more recent note, he actually tried calling me about a year ago. Relentlessly. He left messages which I didn’t return. He tried to instant message me whenever I was online until I blocked him from doing that. He started to send me emails as well. During this, I decided it might be a good idea to clean the slate and change my phone number, so I did. But that didn’t stop the emails. I still have a couple of them which I’ll share, with my own personal commentary added in as well:

Hey Parker, I hope everything is going good for you, I tried calling you the other night, not even sure if you have the same number, phone wouldn't let me leave a message. (Probably for a reason,divine intervention) Its been a long time since we spoke, I left you a few messages (e-mails) (Instant messaging is not the same as a message or an email, but whatever) not sure if you received them. (Yes, I did, so stop sending them...one would have been enough) I was hoping to talk to you,(too bad, not going to happen..obviously) going for a serious surgery in the next couple of weeks (getting your hair plugs replaced?)and thought it would be nice to speak to you. It wasn't that long ago that we both cared about each other,(it was actually...it was long ago) and to me its important to hear your voice.(Well try my voice mail again then, I have a great outgoing message you can listen to) If I don't talk to you, (you won't) always be safe,(the farther away from you the safer I am) and know that your still always in my thoughts.(That knowledge is actually far more creepy then comforting, but thanks)

Hey Parker, I have been trying to contact you for a couple of weeks. (sigh...i know Matt..I know you have. You apparently don't get what being blown off means exactly) Your phone number no longer works, (and if I wanted you to have my new one, don't you think I would've given it to you?) so it doesn't look like i am going to get to speak to you,(Woohoo! Progress!! you got something right, finally!!) I am not even sure if this is your e-mail address anymore, but this is my only way i can try to contact you.(Or you could try another way...hear me out here, maybe not trying to contact me at all instead?....no?....not so much?......) A couple of weeks ago I sent you a text telling you I was sick and wanted to talk to you before my surgery, not sure if you received it. I am having surgery on 8/13/10, (I am so glad you made sure to tell me which year the surgery would be because if I hadn't gotten this email until next year I would've been sooo worried on 8/13/11) back around the time of my birthday I was diagnosed with cancer.(Aw, near your b-day of all times?! :'( Poor you. So getting a cancerous mole removed, they call that "surgery" now?) I know it may seem odd, (it does) even though you are no longer part of my life,(a fact that I understand, but you don't) I felt it would make me stronger knowing I spoke to you.(so in other words you're saying the strength you need to make it through the surgery lies in my hands?No pressure to call back though of course) Since the day I met you, you were an important part of my life, and I just want you to try to remember that. (I remember a lot of things...crying..manipulation..throat grabbing..hmm, important part of your life?Doesn't ring a bell)


In case you are wondering, he was just fine after his surgery (if he was even being truthful that a surgery existed) because I got more attempts at communication from him after that date, so I am not making fun of a man who died of cancer, just a man who had bad hair and a temper problem. It was a struggle to get myself back after what I went through with Matt but I came out a stronger person through it all, knowing more then ever what I want, what I deserve, and what I won't accept. A man who lies, lives secretly with his wife and 3 kids, who is too old, has no time, is manipulative, and has fake hair is unacceptable, so thank God I can finally cross those items off my list of desires.

The Homicide Detective (Part One)

Some women might find a man in uniform sexy. Perhaps a police officer is appealing as a potential mate for some women. I might have thought the same until I met Matt. He wasn’t exactly in a uniform, but he was on duty the night we met. We met at one of the local New York bars I frequented and he was wearing a suit. He had a gun strapped to his waist and a beer in his hand which I found to be an interesting combination. Apparently this was what detectives in New York did during their downtime.

We flirted and chatted a bit and by the end of the night we’d exchanged numbers and planned a dinner date for the following week. On our first date these are some of the things I learned about Matt. He was a 44 year old homicide detective and had been a cop for over 20 years, he was going through a bad divorce and temporarily living at his sister’s house, he had 3 children, he had his own construction company which was another completely full time job so he rarely ever had time for sleep, he had an attractive face but he had a horrible hairstyle. So I’d managed to pick yet another man who was far too old for me and who had more baggage then I see in a days work, but for some reason I looked past all of that and decided I really liked him. He seemed nice, charming, appeared to be a gentleman, and I figured if it got serious we could work on his awful hairstyle.

Over the next couple of months we dated and saw each other often and grew closer. It seemed like he really cared about me and I enjoyed spending time with him. My birthday came around and he bought me the first pair of diamond earrings I’d ever owned and treated me like a princess. My roommate told me if I didn’t hang on to this one I was crazy. I thought maybe she was right, maybe I should get serious with Matt. So we did, we became a couple. I was happy for a while, I believed we were in love and content. He spent the few hours in between jobs with me and frequently stayed over at my apartment. He got along with my roommates. We even went on island vacations together. Then slowly everything began to change.

The thing about detectives is they are extremely good at being manipulative, they do it for a living. I didn’t see it coming since he had portrayed himself to be such a kind, patient man. When he started to change into the devil I was blindsided. It started when his insecurities began to play with him, and he’d initiate arguments with me over ridiculous things. He would accuse me of being too friendly with a bartender, or he’d want to know why someone from work we ran into seemed to be flirting with me. All things which were untrue but I found myself constantly defending myself for sometimes a good hour or more. I would exhaust myself trying to make him understand how absurd his accusations were, and he would finally let it go and apologize. I’d be so thankful that the argument was over I was missing the fact that the arguments were unnecessary and wearing me down. It was a relationship of highs and lows. One day we’d have an amazing night together and laugh and talk, then the next day I’d be crying and yelling and defending myself. He started to show true colors but he had begun to break me down so I couldn’t see them clearly. He would point the finger at me so I wouldn’t have time to take a really good look at him and his situation.

I started to have nagging feelings about the facts he shared about his life. That feeling in the pit of our stomach that tells us something isn’t quite right , the one we’re never supposed to ignore, I was ignoring it. My gut instinct told me he was lying about possibly everything but I didn’t want to believe I could be that naive and I didn’t want to believe he could lie to me. As the months went on I would ask questions about his situation, about why he was living with his sister for example. He told me it was because she had a huge house with her husband and he had a whole wing to himself there. When I’d ask about why he kept his phone off at night so that I could never get in touch with him he said he just did that so he could charge it. When I asked why he wasn’t yet divorced since they’d supposedly been legally separated for a couple of years, he said it just takes a while for these things. When I asked why I couldn’t come to his sister’s house he said it was because she wasn’t on his side with his divorce so he didn’t know how she would react to me. Everyone around me believed he was lying. About everything. I didn’t want to believe it but deep down I felt the same way.

Then there was his hair. I had heard rumors around town that he had fake hair, that he wore a toupee. I tried to pretend I thought the rumors were silly and untrue but I secretly became obsessed with his hair. He never really let me grab his hair even in a passionate moment, he’d move my hand. We would take baths together, but never a shower and he never put his head under water. Even when we were on vacation, I’d swim out under the gorgeous crystal blue water, because that’s what people do while on an island, and I’d look back and see him standing there, water only up to his waist. I even shared my suspicions with my roommate and she and I would analyze pictures of him, pointing out the fact that the bottom of his hair looked questionably different in texture and color from the top half. I found myself staring closely at his hair while he was asleep. I could have easily found out if the rumors were true by just catching him off guard and pulling as hard as I could on the top of his hair, but part of me didn’t want to know if was fake, and the other part of me believed I loved him and didn’t want to embarrass him if the rumors were true...........To Be Continued........