(I adore “Fistful of Dollars” much more than “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly”, but it made sense for this post)
This post was really hard to write, but it needed to be done. We need to work through some of this and cleanse it from our mind and psyche.
His poetry was terrible. Looking at it a second time, Kit started to crumple the paper before she hesitated. No one ever wrote poetry about her. And he did talk endlessly about her eyes in person too. She smiled and stuck it in her locker. She couldn’t take it home where her father could see it.
“Ready to go?” He asked. She turned and shrugged.
“I don’t really want to go home. Dad’s been even worse lately.”
“Well…” He winked at her, “I do have a car. It is capable of going places besides your house.”
“Really?” She answered with teasing skepticism. He laughed and grabbed her hand.
He took her to Lincoln Park to walk around the pond and through the trees. It was beautiful and she forgot all about her father.
That night he convinced her to sneak out after Daddy came home and lay on the hood of his car, staring at the stars.
Sometimes he could be romantic.
Kit saw every time he stared at Texas extra long. She knew he was driving Texas home while she volunteered at the library.
But she said nothing.
It came as no surprise we he said he was dumping her to be with Texas.
Though it didn’t hurt any less to be unwanted.
There were the days he refused to give rides to any of their friends and just took Kit straight to her house.
Her dad didn’t come home until after 6:00, which gave him almost a full three hours.
It always started on the couch.
It always ended on the bed.
He always found ways to scar deep into her mind as well as her skin, despite her being adamant about not doing “it“.
There were so many things that weren’t it.
Maybe it would have been better to just do it.
Their anniversary was Valentine’s Day. It was always a big deal.
There was the year Kit planned an elaborate two day event where they shut themselves in their house with plenty of food, drink, and snacks and watch the entire first season of “Gargoyles”.
The last year Katherine planned a beautiful night in a hotel room for the two of them.
It was a surprise and Kit was blindfolded on the drive over. The surprise floored her. Romantic actions always did, even though Katherine was frequently romantic. Kit was always unsure whether she deserved that. They cuddled and watched plenty of “Dexter”.
[Kit tried to force herself to have the sex that was expected, but the dreams and flashbacks had been dark and Charlotte was far away those days.]
Katherine’s employment was always an issue. Sometimes she was employed for long hours and treated in such horrible ways that had her upset or depressed a lot of the time.
There was a long chunk of time where she was unemployed and Kit had to bite back anger and frustration at having to pay all the bills and still do most of the chores.
But the hardest was when Katherine had a job that had her working third shift and Kit had to sleep alone. She hated that. The dreams were dark and the bed cold.
Being woken with a kiss only just made up for it.
Being dumped broke her heart.
But her heart broke even further when Katherine took their dog to a completely different state.
The dog that had gotten her through those first few horrible months of loneliness. The first dog to save her from suicide. She almost refused to let the policeman in her house when Kally’s bark sent his hand to his gun holster on the porch. She begged him not to even think about shooting Kally, tears streaming down her face, before she unlocked the door.
She dreamed about her sweet dog constantly and in those moments between asleep and awake, it always felt like the lab-chow mix was curled up at her feet.
She never was.
He is always good in a crisis. Always.
From the first semi-medical situation he offered to help with (a horrible allergic reaction after going to see 4th of July fireworks and both of Kit’s legs broke out in huge rashes that had her sobbing when they brushed against anything) up until the migraine medicine shot he gave us a couple weeks ago (this entry).
When we miscarried, he was upset that we wouldn’t tell him which hospital we were at. He didn’t force us to come home when we first took refuge at Daddy’s empty house (who was in Las Vegas) until we’d been there for two days and when he checked on us we were drunk as a skunk and playing with the notion of downing our bottle of prescription narcotics. Then he dragged us to his car and drove us home.
He easily let us come back to the apartment after we were hospitalized and said he would happily shoot Stalker if he came looking for us there (despite Stalker being a military cop).
And he has always been so sweet to Zoe, from day one.
She really didn’t want to tell him. But she knew she had to. She started with a cowardly text.
“Want to get a late lunch today? Missed you last week.”
He agreed to meet at her place within the hour. She rocked back and forth on the couch. Then she quickly made sure the front door was open so he could just walk in. She didn’t trust herself to open it when he knocked.
He walked in to see Kit white-faced, chewing her bottom lip nervously. He tilted his head and let out a chuckle.
“Did I catch you playing with yourself?” He joked. Kit barely heard, but both Rika and Charlotte rolled their eyes internally. Kit mutely shook her head. Army stopped and looked at her carefully.
“What is it?”
“I have to tell you something.” She whispered. He paused.
“Well, as long as you aren’t pregnant.” He joked. She didn’t answer. It was his turn for his face to go white. “Are you?” He demanded.
“Yes.” She whispered.
He sat on the floor, hard. “Fuck.”
She curled more tightly into herself and tried to go back into the head, but none of the other alters were having that. She was shoved back out. She hugged her knees.
Suddenly he got up and walked out the front door.
She gaped after him.
She guessed she probably should have expected that. He made such a huge deal about not ever wanting children the one or two times that topic of conversation casually came up.
She was crying when he walked back in and closed the front door behind him. She stared, then wiped at her face, trying to compose herself.
“I-I thought you were j-just leaving.” She stuttered out. He frowned.
“Wow. You really think I’m an asshole. No, I left the car running for us to go to lunch. Because it’s so hot out. But I’m way too nauseous to eat now. Plus we should talk.”
She thought it was sort of weird that he said he was nauseous. That’s what had tipped her off to the whole possibility in the first place a week ago.
They didn’t talk. They sat there in her living room for over an hour. Occasionally a sentence was said.
“So you’ve actually seen a doctor?” He would ask.
“Yes.” She would softly reply.
Or he would just repeat cuss words over and over.
She wondered if she truly was that repulsive. After an hour passed, she figured she should make sure he understood where she stood.
“You don’t…have to like, stay with me. I can just…handle this. If you want to just go find some other casual kind of relationship.”
He stared at her like she was an alien.
“I mean…obviously I must be…completely unsexy now. It’s fine. I get that.” She continued. His frown came back and he scooted closer to the couch and her. He awkwardly reached for her foot and stroked up her thigh.
“No. I’m not going to run. You aren’t automatically unsexy. I mean, I have to follow something like this through. Do the responsible thing. Even if it sucks.”
Fantastic. Now she’s a responsibility.
Mere weeks after she miscarried, he got a vasectomy. He didn’t even tell her about it in advance. The only reason she knew the day of the surgery was because his sister-in-law texted about it, assuming Kit knew.
It wasn’t that she wanted (living) children with this man. She knew she didn’t. She had found out over the past 5 months how much he didn’t want them and it made her think of her own father too much. She didn’t wish that on any possible child of her’s.
But she was still grieving. And she certainly didn’t have the mental capability to take care of him after a surgical procedure. She was still not back to work full-time due to her lack of full health.
And the fact that he didn’t even mention it to her felt like a slap in the face. She thought they were at least attempting to be a couple.
When she tried to explain to him, he did get it at all.
And that’s when she fully realized what kind of man he was.
And the depression clawed at her further. They hadn’t even had sex in weeks. Was he trying to be “prepared” for someone else? Why else schedule it so quickly? He scheduled not only within weeks of her miscarriage, but within weeks of them not having sex. For the first time ever. Maybe he just couldn’t go that long without sex and found someone else. Someone better.
The suicidal thoughts raced around her head. She toyed with the Vicodin, Tylenol, and Codeine she had.
There were multiple nights Army came into her room because he “heard strange breathing” and then he would yell at her for what seemed like hours for taking a handful of pills. He called her stupid and silly.
Of course she was.
That’s why she wanted to die.
It wasn’t until she was given a tiny fluff-ball of fur by a friend that she realized she had to pull it together. This tiny 6 week old puppy needed her.
And we named her Zoe.
She’s gotten so big since then!!