Meeting Matteo

As my relationship with Matt progressed, so did my feelings. I was feeling things I hadn’t felt in a long time. Although our relationship was platonic, I knew for me, it could be more.

Our time together eventually moved out of the store and into the Barber Shop bar, a place where my girlfriend and I would go one night a week.

Can you believe my surprise when it turned out that this was the same night that Matt and his good friend Tommy would go? So, the kids would normally go to my parent’s house and off we would go hang out and have a few drinks together. Just talk.

I enjoyed his company so much; I was actually starting to feel like a woman again.
Then, one evening, a young woman whom he knew came over to say hello to him while we were sitting at the bar. It was very innocent, a hug, a friendly chat for about five minutes, and then she was on her way.

I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did next, but I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and said thank you. Right after that, the song THE ROSE came on and he asked me to dance. I said no when I wanted to say yes. That’s a switch for me isn’t it? All I wanted was to be held by this man.

Thank the Lord I said no. Gary had walked in to surprise me and he would have seen us on the dance floor, in each other’s arms, dancing to this very slow song; with my head, I’m sure, resting on Matt’s shoulder. I was falling in love and was scared to death.

I don’t think he would have liked that. Or, maybe he wouldn’t have minded, I just don’t know what his reaction would have been. It wasn’t something that I wanted to see though, good or bad.

You see, Gary had his night of the week to go out and I had mine. It had been his idea to each have a separate night to go out. I guess it didn’t occur to him that maybe going out together would have been nice. So be it. I was determined to leave him at that point in time, and was just looking the right time to do it; which is code for courage.

So, Gary came in, having left the kids with his mother, said his hellos, let me know that he was also going out and left. I was shaking so hard at the thought of him seeing me kiss Matt on the cheek that we all soon left to go home.

He had slept with several women since our marriage and I kissed a man on the cheek; I considered it being unfaithful and was ashamed but happy all at the same time.
I will never forget that evening. Matt was shaken a bit by Gary coming in, but was flattered and almost blushing at the fact that I had kissed his cheek. All I could think of to tell him was that I was just so glad that he was my friend. I didn’t dare tell him it was because I got so jealous when his female friend came and spoke to him that it was the only thing that I could think of to do.

The following week, or sometime there about, we decided to go to the bar and talk some more and I did something that shocked me so much that looking back I am still amazed that I had the nerve to do what I did.

After an evening at the bar with my friend Maggie, Matt and his friend Tommy, we all went to the OB Diner for a bite to eat after the bar closed.

We must have been in the diner for almost two hours, just enjoying each other’s company. I didn’t want the evening to end.

Now, I was stone-cold sober. After eating my girlfriend went home, as did Tommy. Matt walked me to my car, well, not my car. My parents let me borrow their car from time to time when I needed one. Well, Matt and I decided that we still wanted to talk so we got into my orange VW Bug. For the first time since we had met, we were actually awkward with each other. We were alone and in a situation that had the potential of going farther than it should. I might have been very unhappy with my husband, but he was still just that, my husband. I did not want to follow the same road that he had, being unfaithful.

The conversation was sparse, but neither one of us wanted the night to end. So I summoned up all the courage that I could, looking down the entire time I spoke. I confessed to him that I was starting to like him too much and didn’t know what to do about it. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I was sure it would bust. What had possessed me to tell him how I felt? I could have just ruined our friendship; a friendship that I cherished and needed. One of the few times I find the nerve to open my mouth; it might have been a disaster.

Much to my surprise, and relief, he told me that he also was starting to like me much more than just a friend. Then he kissed me. It was the sweetest kiss I had ever experienced. It didn’t even matter that my head of big bushy hair got in the way and the kiss had to be cut short, thus to move the locks. It just didn’t matter. I knew then that I was in love with this man.

I got home at about four am that evening. Gary was just leaving the house with our children in tow, going out to look for me. I don’t know why he had cut his night short and picked the kids up; it figures, the night I’m late, he’s home. You see, on my nights out, I was never late. I was always home by midnight, at the very latest.

I got out of my car, apologized for being so late, and told him that Maggie and I had fallen asleep at her home, where we had gone after the bar. Being sober was a plus because I was shaking so hard I didn’t think I could have pulled that lie off if I had been drunk.

I felt so guilty about lying to him, I don’t know how people have affairs and still sleep at night. I had been kissed by a man that was not my husband. That is cheating pure and simple. He didn’t grope at my breasts or touch anything inappropriate, but a kiss is a kiss nonetheless. I had cheated and I was so ashamed; but I did go to sleep that night – alone in my top bunk - remembering that kiss.

I put my children back to bed and decided then and there that I needed to get Gary out of my house, regardless of how frightened I was of him. I knew it would take time, but I also knew that I had to do it sooner, not later.

When I finally found the nerve to tell my husband that I wanted to separate, I told him that he had go live with his mom for a while. Find a job, control his temper and then maybe we had a chance. I knew it was over. I was still so afraid of him, I thought, “Ok Nancy, one step at a time.” Get him out of the house first, worry about the rest later.

I can remember it so clearly. We were sitting on our front steps and I was telling him that it wasn’t working and that he had to go. I couldn’t take the violence any more, the drug use, or the not working. Having sex with other women was a big factor too, but for some reason I didn’t mention it.

He actually cried. I felt so bad, but I knew that this had to happen. My children and I were at great risk of being harmed or worse. I had finally found the strength to do something about it. I’m just sorry it took so long.

But, he left. He went to live with his mom in the neighboring town. He swore he would look for work, and try to control his habits and temper. He also swore that he never meant to hurt me or the kids, that it was something that he couldn’t control, but would do his best to change.

There we go again, my head told me this wasn’t going to ever work again, but my heart said that I needed to give him another chance, he was the father of my children, and I had to do everything I could to save the marriage, after all, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, really. If it didn’t work, I wouldn’t have to look back and be sorry for not having tried everything.

It is so hard for me to see people in pain, even ones that have caused my life to be turned upside down. I would rather be the one hurting. Does that make me a martyr? I don’t know, all I know is that my heart breaks when I see almost anyone seemingly sad or distressed.

Well, once at his mom’s, it was apparently easier for him to live the life he actually wanted. Free from responsibilities. No wife or kids to hamper his life. He appeared happier, or so I thought.

If nothing else Gary could change moods and his mind on a dime. His feelings went back and forth till I finally told him I didn’t want him back, and that as soon as I could afford it, I would be filing for divorce.

Again he cried and begged me to give him another chance; that he loved me and was trying. I’m not sure what he was sorry about. He certainly was having a great time living the life as a bachelor, rarely saw the kids, and just had the life I am sure he loved.

I was finally finding the courage to at least attempt to take control of my life: I told him no.

The following day I went to a lawyer and filed for legal separation.

Gary had not changed his ways at all. So now I found myself still deathly afraid of him, not in love with him, and I had no respect for him; and I was finding myself falling in love with Matt.

He would not be coming back to me, period. He didn’t like that. I don’t know why people think that they want something when clearly they are miserable when they have it. Gary wasn’t happy with me or the kids. He wanted his freedom to do whatever it was that he wanted. I put such a damper on that, so why in the world did he get upset when I told him to leave? Is it control, is it the need to berate and intimidate people? Whatever it was, he was not happy at all.

So why push the issue? I just don’t have an answer for that.

He showed up at 7-11 one day while I was on the day shift, came in and started yelling at me for leaving him and throwing him out of his home, away from his children. He was accusing me of sleeping with any number of people, most of the male customers that came in the store and basically, calling me a whore.
Why is it that when men get mad at women, they are immediately classified as a slut? I was mortified.

I made him go outside and it continued for what seemed like hours. Probably only ten minutes or so, but I was crying, he was yelling and my boss came outside to put an end to it. He told Gary that he would not permit him to come into his store and upset me like that. He would be forced to call the police if he showed up again.
My boss’ name was Ed and he was very good to me. I have to give him credit, he was not a big man, but he came outside anyway to protect me.

So a new chapter in the life and times of being followed by the mad husband had begun. It wasn’t pretty.

With my seperation in place, Matt asked me out on an official date. He was to take me to New York to see a broadway play, THE FIFTH OF JULY, and then dinner at Mama Leonis with our friends Lisa and Tommy.

It took me all day to get ready. Matt paid me to get my hair done, (you did that in those days). I wore a pair of teal brush velvet Gloria Vanderbelt jeans and a white satin ruffel blouse. I was one hot mama.

After the play, which was wonderful, off we went to dinner. I was so hungry at this point but being overweight, I did't want Matt to think I ate much. Sooooo, as everyone else was enjoying their appetizers and soup, I waited for the main course; no food for me until then.

When our meals finally came, I was ravinous. BUT, I only ate half. God help me if Matt knew I had an appitite and actually ate. Aghhhhhhhhhhh

I felt like a princess. It was one of the best nights I had ever had.

That night is one of the times I'll always remember.

Matt and I were now a couple.

He would come over in the evenings when I didn't have to work, play with the kids and spend time with me; every night.

One evening when Matt and I were watching TV at my house, the kids all tucked into bed sound asleep, we realized what the term stalking meant.

Matt heard it first; a noise coming from my basement. I thought he was hearing things until there was loud knock on the front door.

Who the hell would be knocking on my door at 10:00pm? I should have known.
We jumped up so fast you would have thought the devil himself was coming for us. Close. It was Gary, he wanted to know what we were doing and to tell me that he wanted to come back home.

It was horrible. He wasn’t so much really angry but just very agitated and persistent; and drunk. When he finally got the message that he was not coming back home, and that I did not want to be with him, he left. Matt and I were so shaken. Gary was a very intimidating presence, especially when he was drunk or high. You just never knew; so we were very relieved when he left without incident.

He was back in five minutes.

Seems he lost his car keys while lurking around outside. You had to see it: Matt, me and Gary all looking around outside with flashlights for his car keys. Here we thought he was going to murder us; but we end up all tromping around outside in the dark looking for his keys. He found them in the lock of the trunk of the car. I wonder if he was planning on putting our bodies in there to dispose of them. Sure, I can laugh now, but not then.

That would be the last time he came over in stealth, but certainly not the last time he would be intrusive in my life.