His Name Was John
By thisismommyhood on April 16, 2012
*Sorry about any spelling errors. I didn't want to read back what I've written.
Not long after I turned 18 I was out on my own and not even close to being financially prepared despite the 2 jobs I was working at the time. I was working whatever temp jobs I could get and on one of them I met this guy. I wasn't going to give his real name but fuck it. His name was John and he was a writer, most of what he wrote was poetry.
He seemed so sweet and romantic and we started dating right away. A few weeks later I met his parents and they owned a recording studio which I thought was pretty impressive.
We had been dating for only 3 weeks when I made the biggest mistake and moved in with him. I was so tired of working my ass off and not even being able to pay my rent for my tiny apartment.
I wasn't even living with him for a week when we had a huge fight. We were going out somewhere and we weren't even a block away from our place and he started being a d*ck. I wasn't in the mood to put up with his shit so I told him to pull over so I can just walk back home.
He refused and when I tried to open the car door, he grabbed my arm and was twisting it. He wasn't going very fast, less that 15 miles an hour because we were still in our neighborhood. I knew this was going to get uglier and was terrified of what he was going to do so I pulled up the safety break of the car and tried to get out of the car again.
He grabbed me by the neck and had me in a head lock.
My mind was racing as I was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. He was still driving the car and we were about to drive by a medical center near the freeway so I thought I would pretend to just do what he says and when he gets to a stop sign, I'll run like hell.
John stopped at the first stop sign and my heart was racing so fast. I couldn't do it. He stopped at the second stop sign and we were right outside part of the medical center's parking lot.
I went to grab the door handle but fumbled with it and by the time I was able to step out of the car, he dragged me back and threw me in the seat. I tried again before he could get to the driver's side but he was too fast. I really thought he was going to break one of my legs with the car door. I kept kicking the passenger door so he couldn't close it.
I knew that if he got on the freeway, something awful could happen because of how enraged he was. I finally gave the car door a few big kicks, I swear it was the adrenaline, and it knocked him back so I started running as fast as I could.
I was trying to reach one of the doors at the medical center when all of a sudden a woman pulls up in a white car and told me to get in. Amidst all the panic she told me that she saw the whole thing. She worked at one of the clinics in the medical center and she let me know that she told one of her co-workers to call the police.
She asked me if she could take me somewhere and my parents lived less than five minutes away so she started to pull out of the parking lot and that's when John blocked us from leaving the parking lot. He started revving his engine and was yelling at me to get the f*ck out of the car.
I didn't want this woman in the car to be caught in the middle and put in danger so I thanked her but told her I'll just get back in the car with him. Before I did the cops arrived.
The first one that was there talked to the woman who left afterwards and he was even able to get John to calm down. When another cop arrived, he had no idea what was going on and this got John all riled up again. It got so bad that it almost came to blows between the two.
When it was time for the first cop to talk to me, I couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. I heard myself downplay the entire situation. This wasn't me talking. I had always thought I would never put up with violence and there I was letting my boyfriend off the hook.
The cop asked me if I want to press charges, I said no. The second cop asked John if he wanted to press charges against me. I thought what the fuck. I get choked and thrown around and since John was still so angry, I could see him saying yes. He didn't though.
I left with John and the violence steadily became worse. I was with him for a year and a half and my self-esteem completely dissolved. I didn't have enough money from the shit jobs I was working to get out of this horrible relationship. I also didn't have anywhere to go. I had very temporary places to stay but that was it.
The more abusive he became, the worse his temper afterwards. There were no longer any I'm so sorry, I'll never do this again from him. He became more of a heartless f*ckwad and even got in a fight with me after he punched me in the left side of my face. I was getting more and more worn done by all of this and started fighting back verbally.
When he came into the bedroom where I was hiding, I stood up and told him to look at what he did, he gave me a black eye. This f*cker actually said no I didn't, it's purple not black. It took several hours for my hearing in my left ear to come back.
A few months later I finally was able to leave him. It was my fourth attempt but this time it was permanently.
This is the first time since that I've called him John. After I left him he became known as f*ck face. I think that's very fitting for a piece of sh*t like that.
If you've been in an abusive relationship, what made you finally leave for good? Any advice for those who are currently going through domestic violence?
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