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​Saturday Night Social: I Am on a Hunk Hunt

Looking for you!

Thank goodness for lo-fi beachy garage punk band Shannon and the Clams and their 2010 ditty about a fun activity. Dance to it, whistle to it, hunt to it, hunk to it, whatever! It's the perfect cuffing season jam.


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So. I am here to give an update about what happened last week when I fled from my emotionally abusive boyfriend. I've been posting about trying to get out of this relationship for a while but had been very very stuck do to being very very poor and very alone in a new city and not being able to afford a place of my own or find a place that would take my large dog. But a week and a half ago I managed to make the move. It was really hard. I was really fucking scared. Things didn't go quite as planned but I am out. I am okay. I am far away from him.

Most of you suggested that I stave off telling the boyfriend I was leaving and instead just make a sneaky getaway. I wasn't in favor of that for various reasonings (mostly because the boyfriend is unemployed and ALWAYS home so it would be near impossible to maneuver that) but in the end the days kept passing by and I just couldn't bring myself to confront him. I decided that I wouldn't tell him and would instead just pack up my my things into my car ever so slowly and then leave for work like normal and just never go back. Unfortunately, on the day before my apartment was going to be available for move in things ended up not going quite as planned...

The boyfriend and I had a normal morning of me being passive and him being aggressive when he tells me that he is going "out." For some stupid reason I assumed that he meant he was going to meet a friend that he had talked about seeing the other day. I saw this as an opportunity to pack up my clothes (which are the bulk of my meager possessions) and began to do so as soon as he left. So about a half hour goes by and just as I'm finishing up packing the boyfriend walks right in to find me throwing clothes into my suitcase on the bed.

He knows.

"You're leaving?" He asks. This is the second time I have left him.

"Yes. Tomorrow morning." I tell him (the truth).

At first he is quiet. Calm. I put my suitcase in the car. I come back in and start to get ready for work. For a little while he makes a feeble attempt to get emotional, compassionate, lovey dovey, apologetic. The "I never meant to hurt you." speech. But he knows its in vain. I barely even register his words anymore. This mopey stage begins to taper off as he starts to come to the realization that there is really nothing that he can do anymore. I'm really gone this time.

And then he gets angry.

I get scared. I dont know what's going to happen. I dont know what he is going to do. But then, blissfully, he does end up leaving to meet with the friend I thought he was going to earlier. I praise sweet baby Jesus.

I'm alone. I think about how the only reason that he left right now is because he knows he'll get to come back tonight and deal with me then. He thinks he still has a chance to keep me cooped up. I know at once that this is it. I have to leave NOW. I can't come home to this.

I know that I can't call my new roommates and ask if I can move in a day earlier and especially at 10:00 (when I would be getting off of work). They were kind enough to let a stranger move in with them. I didn't want to ruin it by seeming like the type of person who brings the drama. I want them to think that I have it together. I dont have any friends to call. No family. I consider just having my dog and I spend the night in the car just like the good old days, but then I decide to text a coworker that I've always gotten along with. From henceforth she shall be refered to as Awesome Godsend.

I send her a text that reads, "Hey. So this is kind of out of left field, but is there any chance that my dog and I could stay at your place tonight? Just for the night. Its kinda of an emergency. You can say no. I understand with my dog and all."

I hold my breath.

Awesome Godsend immediately texts back, "Yes. Absolutely!"

My heart soars. I pack up the rest of my things, say goodbye to the boyfriends poor dog and get in my stuffed car and go to work. I forget to pack-

My phone charger.

My loofa.

My Patti Smith jacket that is perfect and goes with everything.

I steal the communal phone charger from work, forget about my loofa, and cry a bit about my long gone jacket. That jacket was fucking perfect, you guys.

After work Awesome Godsend, my dog and I go back to her place. Awesome Godsend makes me a peanut butter and honey sandwich. She doesn't ask why I need a place to sleep for the night. She doesn't ask about the boyfriend that she knows that I was living with. All she did was be awesome. And be a godsend. I love her and I am forever grateful.

The next morning I moved into my new place. A two bedroom apartment I'm sharing with a lesbian couple and their two cats. The room is fully furnished and the roommates are great. They are hardly ever home (one is a fulltime student and the other works fulltime) and when they are home they give me food. They are both so sweet and have so far been by far the best roommates I have ever had.

The apartment is still too expensive for me and the commute has been a bitch, but its month to month and utilities are included. I take lots of long showers. I eat lots of ramen.

Being away from him feels good. I still feel lost and depressed but I've felt that way for the last six years. I feel a lot more relaxed and a lot more free. I honestly dont miss him at all. I dont feel anymore lonely without him then I did with him. He has only tried to contact me a few times and only through texts. I delete them right away and dont remember what any of them said. I seriously couldnt care less.

This is the second time I left him. The first time I was a miserable, screeching wreck within a few days. My heart hurt so bad. This time though... this time I dont feel anything.

I get to wear makeup for the first time. I get to watch whatever I want on Netflix. I get to eat ice cream out of the container and not have to worry about him making passive aggressive comments. I get to decorate my room however I want and hang my art on the walls.

I dont have to listen to him play his trigger-inducing video games anymore. I dont have to listen to him manslpain EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING to me anymore. I dont have to live in fear of what I may come home to. I dont have to do anything if I don't want to.

Its been hard but good. All this quiet has been making me think about myself and what I want out of life. I have no idea really but I think that its good that I'm thinking about it. I think I would like to find a way to go back to college. I think maybe I would like to finally get out of LA. I don't know yet. But we'll see. I feel good about it.

Thanks everyone. :)