Three years to the day after moving to this small town, and a year after he had graduated from college, despite her better judgement, she once again chose to follow him somewhere else so he could continue to pursue his dreams.
The fighting hadn’t stopped. But keep in mind, he was still the charming, sweet, funny, thoughtful, worldly guy she had first met – when he wanted to be. She held on to the happy experiences they shared together. Not only as a way to get through her life with him, but as a way to justify the relationship to herself, and to others. But even throughout the good times that were wedged in there between the bad, neither of them were truly happy in their relationship. They had just both become so codependent, neither one could fathom an alternate version of their lives.
He had found a job protecting endangered animals, 6 hours north from where they were living. He had been commuting back and forth for a few weeks and when the time came for them to pack up their lives and officially move up there, he knew how miserable she was so he asked her point blank, “Are you sure you want to do this? We could go our separate ways right now…” She was shocked to hear it, and yet not. He always said that she’d be the one to leave him, like all his girlfriends before her. Early in their relationship she would dispute that and reassure him, “I’ll never leave you.” But in that moment she wanted so badly to just end it. Except – at that point they had been together for five years and had been seriously talking about starting a family. She had just turned 30 and she could feel her window to have children getting smaller and smaller. For as long as she could remember, being a mother was her ultimate goal in life. She always felt that she was born to have children. How could she end it now when she was so close to getting everything she thought she ever wanted? Once again, she chose to stay and followed him even further away from the previous life she had known and loved. Further away from herself.
When they relocated to Northern Canada, she was on Unemployment due to the fact that she had quit her job in order to ‘follow a spouse’. Then, life threw them both another curve ball when her boyfriend was temporarily laid off from this job that they had just moved up there for, less than a month prior. That summer, forest fires were raging throughout the geographical area that was his work site. So now, they were both unemployed, spending every second of every day together. As worried as they both were about finances, and as much as she dreaded having no alone time or separation from her ever loving common law spouse, they did end up having some fun during that time. They camped, they hiked, and they explored their new city.
They both looked forward to the upcoming beer fest being held downtown on the main pub strip. Roads were closed to accommodate this event. All sorts of craft breweries were there. It was a beautiful, hot summer day and the two of them happily got shit faced together. They drank all day and into the evening. It was then that they began chatting with another couple who had driven two hours to attend this festival.
The guy was tall and skinny. Charming and funny with shaggy hockey hair under a flat brimmed skateboarder hat. The girl, was short and blonde, big boobs and a hops pendent on her necklace. So while she was intrinsically involved in a drunken, flirtatious conversation with the tall stranger, her boyfriend was equally as chatty with this guy’s voluptuous lady friend. She realized that there was a huge possibility that that evening could end up with a “swingers” hook up. She had always said to her pushy, guilt tripping, hyper-sexual boyfriend that if a threesome were to ever present itself organically, she wouldn’t necessarily turn it down. She had never been sure if she was being honest when she would tell him that, though. She knew she had no interest in one when she was sober, and that even when drunk, it was never something she would actively pursue. She did know, however, that the constant pressure and manipulation he laid on her in his efforts to achieve that goal were something that she definitely was not comfortable with.
But the vibes were there that night, with that couple. They mentioned they were staying at a nearby hotel and, sure enough, she and her boyfriend ended up going back with them. She kept telling herself how happy she was for her boyfriend, and for her. For their relationship. She was totally comfortable with everything that had happened, and was going to happen. He seemed to be enjoying the other girl’s company, and she herself was really just loving having to look up to talk to a guy for once. They were both so bored and unhappy in their relationship that she was truly looking forward to being with someone else. They got to their room and, yadda yadda yadda. It was a drunken adventure that she enjoyed more than she thought she would. So much so, however, that when the night was winding down, but she and the other guy weren’t quite finished, all of a sudden her boyfriend went into a blind rage.
He started yelling at her incoherently, grabbing his shit and storming out. She scrambled to get herself together and chased after him. Barely a goodbye to either of the kind strangers they had gotten to know that evening. She made it outside in time to join him in the cab that must have been waiting by the hotel because there is no way a taxi service has ever been that fast. It was deadly quiet. They got home in the wee hours of the morning, and he just unleashed his verbal venom and bile upon her. He told her she was a slut, among other hurtful and demeaning insults. She cried herself to sleep in the bedroom and he stayed on the couch. The next day, and for weeks and months to come, he would express the overwhelming jealousy and rage he felt when he saw her enjoying herself sexually with someone else, when in their day to day life she barely had a libido. And that even though throughout that experience, she had literally cheered him on as she watched him with that other girl, him seeing her doing the exact same thing angered him beyond explanation. This drunken tryst that was intended to bring them closer, just made them both resent each other more.
Eventually, the forest fires subsided and her boyfriend went back to work. She was happy to have some time and space away from him. The blue 2004 Pontiac Sunfire she had purchased before she met him was still alive and kickin’ when they moved. It had survived two trips back and forth moving their lives up there to an even smaller two-bedroom apartment than they had lived in before, on the top floor of a house. One morning, a week or so after moving in, her car died in the driveway when she was on her way to get groceries. (Rest in Peace, Sunny. You were a faithful automotive companion.) No vehicle, plus a poor public transit system, left very little employment opportunities for her. So, while her boyfriend was gone for 10, 12, 14 hours a day, sometimes staying at the cabins on site if need be, she was just… there. Alone. Herself and four walls, with no one to talk to and nothing to do.
She sank into a depression. He reassured her that all his hard work was for both of them. For the family they wanted to start. For all the things they wanted to do, and places they wanted to go, and dreams they had for the future. It was all for her, he’d say. Still, she was falling further and further into her own dark thoughts. Her insecurities and self doubt were at an all time high. Their fighting got worse. Already having little patience, he was even more easily agitated after working those long hours. He had no empathy for her and the situation she had put herself in for him. He expected her to be grateful for what he was doing and to basically kiss his ass when he returned from a long day. She was expected to have dinner ready when he got home, listen to all his bitching and moaning about work and society and the world, and then spread her legs or open her mouth so he could get off and fall asleep.
Very often he would insist she then spend what seemed like forever, laying there tickling and stroking his neck and back, trying to soothe his anxiety and whatever he was going through that (to him) justified his behaviour towards her. Meanwhile she would be thinking about how much she hated that responsibility. This tender, caring action she did for him that she used to embrace and do willingly because she cared about his well being and wanted to relieve his every woe, became something she resented. She had already faked enthusiasm while letting him have sex with her. She always felt so exhausted continuously having to attend to his neuroses, as well. They co-existed in a limbo, of sorts. Tensions grew and grew. Until one day, he came home with a surprise for her.
Over the years, he had recounted to her many times how his ex girlfriend had taken their cats when she left him. A story that had at first made her sympathetic towards him, had now made her realize that she never, EVER, wanted to share a pet with him. He had made it very clear that if they ever did get a pet, and if the day ever came that they broke up, he would keep the pet. No arguments. She had no say in the matter. The pet would be his if they ever parted ways. It was that thought that flashed through her mind, on that crisp October afternoon, the moment she looked through the drivers side window of his truck, and saw the small, black and white, beautiful little border collie puppy sitting on his lap. Of course she would instantly fall in love with it! Of course she wouldn’t make him take her back! Of course she would care for her and love her and train her and be the best owner possible for this wonderful, scrappy, funny little canine. He knew that. Though he has never, and will never admit it, bringing that puppy home was one of the biggest manipulation tactics he had ever used on her. It was the cruelest thing he had ever done throughout the entirety of their relationship. She was now more stuck there than ever.