We were watching Rita Rudner the other night - it was old, but still funny. Part of her act concerned how she used to always find the wrong man and then when they broke up how she had to tell people how horrible these guys were. She said they should come with warning labels for the next woman. I laughed, but then I thought, hmmmmmm. Perhaps they should.
So, to the next wife I say that I don't believe a leopard can change its spots. In other words, the beast will show itself one day.
What am I talking about? He's charming, he's funny, he's intelligent and amuzing! Wait. I remember the charm, I recall that I used to like that he made me laugh. Until there were serious things to deal with and everything was just a big, fat joke only it wasn't funny anymore. And the charm faded when we lost our friends. All those people who used to casually gather in our house or backyard and maybe stay for dinner or hang out and listen to music and talk. They all went away. They wouldn't even come over if I asked and I did and I was embarrassed. After all was said and done they told me he gave them "the creeps."
And then there are the in-laws. The overbearing, meddling, manipulating in-laws. Maybe you like them. Maybe. After all, they too are always smiling, always laughing, having FUN! Until you don't even know what your own name is anymore. Until you realize they want to run every aspect of your life. Their way or no way. Roll out the red carpet, throw the rose petals, here they come! One day you will tire of the phony hoopla and the fake togetherness and realize that there is you and them. You are not one of them. That will be clear. And turn off those dollar signs in your eyes and forget about the money. It's not for you.
Back to the boy-the fifty-something year old boy. The things you probably don't know, the things he may be afraid to tell you. And, of course, the rest of the family honors the code of silence, even the child he abused. She is afraid of him. Still. And she is also probably afraid of all the rage that she doesn't express, so she keeps silent. She suffers through her visits. I get to hear all about it afterwards.
The child he abused had a neurological disability. It was a difficult time. But she was not to blame. No one was to blame. What is to blame is his mistreatment of her. He broke down a door once to get to her and broke the chair that was behind it as well. He charged up the stairs into her room where she was cringing, cowering in fetal position and he pounded her back and head with his fists. I tried to pull him off but I was no match for him. Screaming, crying. Unimaginable but real. The poor child was cutting herself with mirror chips, glass and paper clips, crying out for help. There were a couple of times that people suspected but he charmed and lawyer-spoke his way out. Just another big fat joke.
They were in a store - she wanted a book, but he became too impatient to wait in line, which, naturally, upset the child. She started to put up a fuss as any child under the circumstances would and he dragged her out by her hair, calling her a "fucking psycho" for good measure. Right out in public. No one did a thing.
I worked outside of the home and he did not, so things were going on that I wasn't aware of. I will torture and blame myself for that till the day I die. And she did all she could do to hide it from me because of her fear of him. We were trapped by fear.
He takes medications keeping the beast at bay, but I still believe the beast lives. You may see it one day. The depth of his selfishness and cruelty will astound you. This is the warning. He should have bright day-glo orange warning lables front and back. Biohazard. Beware.
So, do not be surprised when you see his spots.....
http://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=astoria+story
So, to the next wife I say that I don't believe a leopard can change its spots. In other words, the beast will show itself one day.
What am I talking about? He's charming, he's funny, he's intelligent and amuzing! Wait. I remember the charm, I recall that I used to like that he made me laugh. Until there were serious things to deal with and everything was just a big, fat joke only it wasn't funny anymore. And the charm faded when we lost our friends. All those people who used to casually gather in our house or backyard and maybe stay for dinner or hang out and listen to music and talk. They all went away. They wouldn't even come over if I asked and I did and I was embarrassed. After all was said and done they told me he gave them "the creeps."
And then there are the in-laws. The overbearing, meddling, manipulating in-laws. Maybe you like them. Maybe. After all, they too are always smiling, always laughing, having FUN! Until you don't even know what your own name is anymore. Until you realize they want to run every aspect of your life. Their way or no way. Roll out the red carpet, throw the rose petals, here they come! One day you will tire of the phony hoopla and the fake togetherness and realize that there is you and them. You are not one of them. That will be clear. And turn off those dollar signs in your eyes and forget about the money. It's not for you.
Back to the boy-the fifty-something year old boy. The things you probably don't know, the things he may be afraid to tell you. And, of course, the rest of the family honors the code of silence, even the child he abused. She is afraid of him. Still. And she is also probably afraid of all the rage that she doesn't express, so she keeps silent. She suffers through her visits. I get to hear all about it afterwards.
The child he abused had a neurological disability. It was a difficult time. But she was not to blame. No one was to blame. What is to blame is his mistreatment of her. He broke down a door once to get to her and broke the chair that was behind it as well. He charged up the stairs into her room where she was cringing, cowering in fetal position and he pounded her back and head with his fists. I tried to pull him off but I was no match for him. Screaming, crying. Unimaginable but real. The poor child was cutting herself with mirror chips, glass and paper clips, crying out for help. There were a couple of times that people suspected but he charmed and lawyer-spoke his way out. Just another big fat joke.
They were in a store - she wanted a book, but he became too impatient to wait in line, which, naturally, upset the child. She started to put up a fuss as any child under the circumstances would and he dragged her out by her hair, calling her a "fucking psycho" for good measure. Right out in public. No one did a thing.
I worked outside of the home and he did not, so things were going on that I wasn't aware of. I will torture and blame myself for that till the day I die. And she did all she could do to hide it from me because of her fear of him. We were trapped by fear.
He takes medications keeping the beast at bay, but I still believe the beast lives. You may see it one day. The depth of his selfishness and cruelty will astound you. This is the warning. He should have bright day-glo orange warning lables front and back. Biohazard. Beware.
So, do not be surprised when you see his spots.....
http://www.smashwords.com/books/search?query=astoria+story
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