February 22, 2009 1:15 AM
Text message alert...
HIM: What r you doing?
ME: Going to sleep.
HIM: Well, whass up?
ME: What??
HIM: Dreamd of U just now & wantd to feel US. Thinkn itz possible 4 US. Can I come over an get wrap'd n your arms?
ME: I'd suggest you head over to the homeless shelter and get wrapped in "her" arms, or perhaps the arms of the one that's carrying your baby!
ME: There will never be anything else between us, ever again in life, so you should just block it from your mind.
HIM: Thats evil of U 2 think that. I want you, never stopd wantn you. You knw that to b true.
ME: Well, I do not want you.
Phone rings... I don't answer. Phone rings again... I don't answer...
ME: Why are you calling?
HIM: To talk. What Im askn of US is real enough to talk about. Can I come over there?
ME: Have you been drinking or something? There is no us/will not be an us, therefore there isn't anything to talk about. Ok?
HIM: Ok so if we cant talk then lets be our selves and fuck each others lights out again?
ME: Please leave me alone. Didn't you do enough fucking when you raped me? What else do you wanna take from me?
HIM: So wrong of you.
ME: You are the one who is wrong.
HIM: I'll leave you alone after you admit to your bullshit felonious bullshit. Until then stop tha b.s. And b wit me.
ME: So you are trying to completely break me? You've taken my sanity, what more do you want, my life?
Phone rings.... I don't answer...
HIM: I neva wantd to break U or Ur sanity, I just want & want U. Can I come over there right now?
ME: NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't you understand what that means? You are not wanted here. I do not want you here. I do not want you period. Ok?
HIM: Ok. I understand. C you in court to let da judge cuz I feel my daughter should be raised by a man & woman not 2 twisted minded dikes. Fuck off.
Last message from Him sent February 22, 2009 2:00 AM
I lay deep under the covers in my bed, thoughts racing, shaking in fear. I wanna get up and check my locks, and go to the kitchen and get a knife, but I can't move. Get up Barbara! Go check the locks and go get a knife to put under your pillow. He could be outside the door. He could be watching the house, waiting for you to flip the light switch. God, what if he tries to kill me? I gotta get outta here. We gotta get away from here. He thinks I'm a lesbian. What if he tries to kill me? Can I get him on a hate crime?
I am finally able to move. I creep to my front door and peer through the darkness at the locks. All locks are secure, chain is secure. I creep into the kitchen and turn on the light above the stove. Reach into the drawer and come out with my butcher's knife. I come back to my room and place the knife under my pillow. I wanna cry. There is fear. I don't wanna be scared. I wanna cry. I take off my night shirt and panties, grab my towel and head for the shower. This is my safe place, when I need to cry, when I need to be alone, I can think in here.
Warmth caresses my body and the tears start to flow. Silently. Then full blown crying. Crying... chocking back tears... crying... chocking back tears... then a full blown panic attack. Oh my God, I am having an anxiety attack, in the fucking shower. I can't breathe! The gasping for air and crying is growing louder and completely outta my control. Good thing I'm in the shower or I might wake Jalia. Try to regain control. Just breathe. Just breathe. Not working. You have to just breathe! I try to take some deep breaths. It starts to work. 5 minutes later, I am back in control, the attack has passed, I shut off the water, wrap myself in my towel, open the bathroom door slowly and proceed back into my room. I dress myself and pick up the Mac...
God. Please help me! I can't do this. What do I do? Do I go to UCPD to get a restraining order? They can't even give me one. They will refer me to the Gender Equity Center. What kind of a fucking police department can't issue a fucking restraining order???? I FUCKING HATE CAL!!!!!!
God. Please help me! What do I do? I don't feel safe here. We are not safe here. He is gonna try to take my baby. What if he tries to kill me? I can't deal with this. I have a paper due on Tuesday. Dammit!!! I can't do this. I want him to die. If I hear so much as a jiggle of a door handle I will put this knife straight through his fucking chest!
What do I do?
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on Sunday, February 22, 2009
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