Heading into month two of our relationship he was planning on marrying me. What a wonderful man, though I thought. We were at one of his friends house in a little country town in Missouri. We got into an argument over me talking to his friend, mind you a female, for about three hours, it was almost 1am in the morning. What he was upset about was the fact I was talking ‘good’ about him and praising him to his friend (I’m being sarcastic). I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong. So we ended up arguing. He pushed me on the bed and commanded me to go to sleep, because I was the one acting ‘crazy’. But my hard head didn’t want to listen, of course. He starts kicking me in the back, throwing me around by my shirt. So, I told him I wanted to leave and go home. We fought over the keys so bad that my fingers were cut up from him not letting go of them. So, finally we get into the car and I’m crying my eyes out, he’s telling me to STFU and other name calling. Mind you we are on a country gravel road in the middle of nowhere. He’s yelling at me, accusing me of cheating and how big of a whore I am. He then slams on his breaks, leans over and at that very moment I thought I was going to die, he starts strangling me. He finally let go and we started moving, he then slams on his breaks again and tells me to walk home, but I told him no, not without my kids, even though I was terrified of him. He tells me to drive then. On the highway driving he told me to slow down, because if we get pulled over and you tell the police what happened I’ll kill you. So I did what he said.
We pull up to his mom’s house, I was going to leave but he told me to stay and sleep elsewhere because it was 4am in the morning. We lay down, I’m on the floor and he’s in his bed and he tells me to get up there with him. So I did!
The morning came and he was crying when I woke up. He started to apologize and said it wouldn’t happen ever again. I forgave him and went on about our day, in love, without a care in the world. So I thought…
