Rubber Ashtrays

This is a story about my ex. It isn't pretty. It's a memory I try to not dwell on.

We had been together for about 6 months. I was still drinking at the time. We still had separate abodes, but stayed over frequently and for long periods of time at each other's place. It begin as simply me wanting to visit and him not wanting to answer the door or the phone, though he knew it was me. Instead of responding to either one and politely saying he wasn't in the mood or whatever, he let it escalate. I had been out with friends at a bar, and therefore drunk. I became upset (very upset) after being ignored for over thirty minutes worth of repeated phone calls and knocking on the door. (I actually was knocking hard enough to put small dents in the metal door). So finally he cracks open the door and I push it open (I use to leg press 450#). Obviously at this point he is livid because I've been so insistent. I'm drunk and want to discuss what his problem is. He pushed. I pushed back. We ended up rolling around on the floor. Now I'm a lover not a fighter, and I really wasn't there to fight, so I was only trying to defend myself not inflict any damage on him. He was out for blood. He grabbed a glass ashtray and begin to pound me repeatedly in the head with it. I was so hurt (not just physically), I crawled to the bar to stand and leave, with what dignity I had left. He yelled to me "just stay down". For some reason I complied. He opened the door and I literally crawled through it. Then to add insult to injury, he kicked me as hard as he could in the ass and slammed the door. I made it the the top of the stairs and sat up to grasp what had just happened. Blood was running down my face. I was sore. I cried.

I finally steadied myself and proceed cautiously down the stairs and to my truck. I drove to a pay phone and called my best friend at two in the morning. I explained what transpired and ask him to come. I was about 30 minutes away from him, so I sat on the curb and waited. When he showed up, he couldn't believe it. I'm not sure how it came up, but the cops was called. When they arrived, we were informed to press charges we would have to go downtown. My best friend drove us the the government center. After all that time and with what I had just been through, the Magistrate wouldn't allow me to press charges because I had been drinking. I had to comeback sober (like getting in the head repeatably doesn't sober you up). We left and retrieved my truck. I never went back to press charges. I accepted the fact that I was partially to blame.

My ex and I didn't speak for about 4 months. We saw each other a couple of times at the mall but that was it. We just keep going. One day, I was in the yard painting some furniture. He drove up. It was a bit awkward, but some how we managed to work it all out. We apologized and started over. The best part was he was hurt from me throwing him over the kitchen bar into the living room, (I don't remember that, but yea me!). I told him that was his "one free shot", next time I would do my best to put him in the hospital. We lasted another 10 years, with no similar problems.