Restraining Order
Romantic Soliloquies: The Right Guy at the Worst Possible Time, the Final Part
“I feel sometimes like there’s something wrong with me, and that’s why things happened with Charlie the way they did. I’m scared that may be why it’ll never work out with anyone. Charlie tried to convince me that it was my fault. I know it’s not! I hate him for what he did. I loved him so much. was I not good enough for him to not try anymore? I don’t know how to make sense of anything anymore.
I can’t stop thinking about that night. The look on his face still scares me. Where did he go? What happened to him? I thought he loved me?
I feel like a part of me did die that night. Like he strangled all of my hope (for anything/everything) out of me.
His hand around my neck that night was my worst fear come true — that I had finally found love and somehow just had it ripped away from me. And now the world is laughing at me because I genuinely believed I was in love and loved back. I don’t understand why.”
~pages from my diary 2013
I finally told my mother what happened the night before with Charlie.
“You know, I don’t know where you’re finding these guys…”
She rolled her eyes and scuffed in disgust. I’m not quite sure what I expected from her though. She always seemed to have a habit of taking on other’s problems as if they were one more thing she had to deal with rather than doing the things moms (at least good moms) are supposed to do like:
Hold me,
Comfort me,
Tell me it wasn’t my fault,
Tell me that she supported me,
Tell me that she was sorry this happened?
Tell me that she loved me…?
My mother was never a very empathetic or compassionate person though, so like I said, I was disappointed — but not surprised. I made the right choice not to call her that night.
She’s the one who pushed me to get a restraining order against Charlie even though I didn’t want to. Granted he did call nonstop, and always tried to stop by on his way to work; I didn’t think it merited a restraining order. We lived close by, had some of the same friend circles, there was no way a restraining order seemed realistic to me.
My mind changed though when my Aunt and Uncle took me to New York City as a special trip for my 21st birthday:
Fifty-eight missed calls in less than 2 hours not to mention the countless text messages on top of the missed calls and texts on my Aunt’s phone.
I felt sorry for him. After everything, I still felt love for him. I knew that the person I encountered that night was not the real Charlie. So I, obliviously according to my family, held out every hope that he would change. He loved me too after all so why wouldn’t he?
“Want to go for a walk?” mom asks me randomly…
I thought it was odd, because she never asks to do anything together. I agreed though, and immediately I regretted it. As we approached the local attorney’s office that just happened to be down the street at the four way stop.
“Let’s just go talk to him and see what he says,” she pushed.
Reluctantly, I acquiesced and we headed to the door. As soon as we entered, I got the impression that he knew we were coming.
“Why am I not surprised,” I rolled my eyes.
We walked into his office and my mother starts by offering a much exaggerated overview of what happened. Peter finally looked at me for my account of the story. I still remembered every detail down to the second.
“You chased him and entered the house when he clearly didn’t want you in there?”
Peter frowned and immediately said that this would not stand in trial as I was technically trespassing.
“He has a legal right to keep anyone off his property, so a defense could be that you were actually breaking and entering forcing him to defend himself by any measure needed.”
My mother was furious. Peter took a long time explaining this concept to her because she couldn’t seem to understand why Charlie wouldn’t be punished. I knew he was right though. His final suggestion was to dismiss the restraining order “without prejudice” so I could still have this order in my back pocket to be able to use against him if another incidence like this happened again.
My mother and I didn’t speak on the walk back home. I just had to listen to her cry… She somehow was the one needing to be consoled and I was the one along for the ride still trying to wrap my own mind around everything that had happened that night.
… to be continued.
←Continued from The Right Guy at The Worst Possible Time
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