I'd used cuss words that would make my mother embarrassed to claim me as her own. If she were still alive. As it was, she was probably ranting and raving in the afterlife about how she raised me better.
And she had.
I was raised by a mother who put a full face of makeup on the morning after her husband let her know that he'd been diddling the secretary for a year and a half, she was pregnant, and he had to "do the right thing" by her. A mother who bit her lip to save her face. A mother who once cut the tip of her middle finger off while chopping vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner and let out a very tame "Oh, fudge!" that she then apologized for.
I didn't know where my potty mouth came from, but I knew what got it flapping with reckless abandon.
Shitty men.
Shitty men doing shitty things.
Especially when those shitty men did shitty things to good women.
Oh, sure, I was no saint, but I had my heart in the right place, I did my best, I pulled my weight, I abided by the laws—both criminal and common decency.
So I felt I was justified in cussing out the man who sat me down to inform me that he needed to "keep his options open" after three years of monogamy, that he had to know if there was more out there for him.
More out there for him.
More than me out there for him.
Now, I'd loved the man—or thought I had at the time—so I'd overlooked a great many things about him while we dated. Like the fact that he always waited until the server walked away, then passed the check to me before sliding it back to himself to hand to the server when he returned.
Or that he worked a very part-time job because he was "working on his side-hustle" that seemed to involve playing a hell of a lot of video games and no actual hustling.
I never mentioned his complete disregard for our home that he refused to ever help me clean.
I didn't lose my ever-loving mind when he brought clippers with him and cut his nails in bed, leaving little toenail shrapnel all around.
Did I freak out when Valentine's went by and he "forgot?" No.
Did I speak up when I'd spent months researching, tracking down, and purchasing the perfect present for his mother for her birthday only to have him claim it as his own?
Nope.
Didn't do that either.
But he thought he could do better than me?
Let's just say, I was very aware during my rant that followed his declaration that I hadn't truly been in love with him at all. Because there was no pain over losing him. Just anger. Just a bone-deep resentment. And a little bit of fear at the idea of being single again, starting over again, having no one in the whole world again.
That was why I moved states. I figured it would feel a little less sad to start over and be alone in a place that wasn't filled with memories of a time I spent with someone who never appreciated me.
If it weren't for my terrible hair choice and my stern superior, I would say things were going pretty well.
I had a place in a decent area.
I had a steady job with a good income.
I got to start decorating from scratch again.
And I was pretty sure I was finally ready to take the plunge and get myself a pet. Something that didn't mind being alone while I did long shifts. A cat or maybe even a set of bunnies so they could keep each other company while I was out.
Things were really starting to look up.
"Don't scream," the voice hissed in my ear as a hand clamped over my mouth, as another grabbed me around the center, lifting me up off my feet, leaving me peddling in the air as he dragged me backward.
I'd been to a self-defense class that taught me exactly how to get out of this situation. I'd practiced it a dozen times. Successfully. But in the heat of the moment, the movements flew out of my brain, leaving only panic in their wake.
Even if I remembered the moves, I think it would have been over too fast to implement any of them.
One moment, I was walking out of work with the silliest cares in the world.
The next, I was tossed in the backseat of a SUV with a man on top of me.
Whatever panic I felt before amplified. My heartbeat pounded so loud that I heard the thumping of it in my ears, felt it in my throat, temples, wrists.
This was not happening.
I did not work so hard to change my life for the better only to be pulled into a car and raped on my way out of work one night.