Last Call

     I always blamed the drinking. My husband was abusive because of the ALCOHOL. After his 2nd rehab, he'd yell at me, "Once the alcohol is gone, then what?!! Then what are you going to bitch about!" I'd be silent because he was yelling, but he took it as submission and followed it with a condescending: "Ohhhh! I don't hear you so loud, huh!? Yeh, I don't hear you so loud!!!"
     The alcohol never disappeared long enough to deal with any other serious problems, let alone recognize what the other problems actually were. There was never a "last call." When he was mean to me, then mean to our son, I was told by my history, and reinforced by my present new family (his mom & dad), that it was the "alcohol talking."   The verbal and then not too much later physical violence was definitely more prevalent when he was drunk, I thought. And then, of course, when he was jones-ing for that next drink. And then, also,when he was hung over from drinking too much all over again.
     I tried to figure out the leeway I would have between the last and next drink, watching more carefully the spaces in between. I started documenting every episode, the things said, when he did or did not come home. Because he'd deny his words later, deny he was that drunk, or deny how recent it was. One work week of no alcohol would be relayed as 3 weeks out of his mouth.
     I started documenting the cruel things he said to me, because he'd deny it later, he'd say "that never happened." He'd say I heard it wrong. Of course, he was drunk and/or high when he said the hateful things, so I surmised he forgot once he sobered up. So I started writing the incidences down, right in front of him. He'd watch me write it down. He'd laugh derisively and snarl, "Yeh, get it all down. Get it all in your little book, Miss Paper Trail!"  That was one of his degrading objectifying names for me. He always worked from the premise that I was documenting what was happening to use against him  in an always any-time-now court scenario in his head.  I documented it to keep my sanity in the midst of all his lies. I'd readily forgive and forget anything of him...but I had to write it all down because he twisted horrible realities into nothing at all. I thought if I wrote it down, and showed him, he'd realize what was happening, what he was doing, and then he could see the truth right in front of him, and of course, want to change... But he knew all along. 
     One "incidence" --from the many times he stood me up--was while I was pregnant. All week as he spent time elsewhere until late, he promised to "be home early Friday to be with you-- just you and me Baby."  I planned one of his favorite meals. I was so excited that dinner at home with me was the only thing on his agenda, and that he was anticipating time alone together that we never seemed to get anymore "because of his work."  So, dinner it was!
     But then... it wasn't.
     As evening set in and I waited for his absent return call, yet another of his company's never-ending impromptu drinking events had presented itself.
    He falsely "complained" that he "had to go" to every single minute function, nearly every single day, every single time he relayed over the phone why he wasn't home yet again...and again...and again. He'd take near any and all opportunities to go out drinking, to any gathering, before work, after work, during the weekend.  I suggested a few times (due to his previous DUI, accidents, and 30 days rehab) that he "maybe not drink" at these supposedly expected nightly happy hours for "team-building."  He'd start with lying to be completely sober. If I pressed it or reminded him that's what he said last time when he got drunk again and drove home to pass out in the floor in the living room, he'd go to anger mode and snap he could have one drink!!...or two...that he couldn't tell them no if they offered to buy him a drink!
      I had to ask, err, beg, my husband to consider giving me "maybe one day a week, maybe, to spend together, just a couple hours, maybe...?"  He'd rapidly switch me asking for the sparsest amount of time into me being "ungrateful" that he went to the functions leaving me alone and then question my "lack of support" for his disappearances: "Don't you want me to network !!??!![his favorite word for going out drinking, and for Facebook transgressions, and for having to cancel on me or me and our son for so many things, like a concert or basketball game for which his friends would have an unforeseen "extra ticket" --"networking" applied to anything he wanted to do or anywhere he wanted to go without me or without me & our son] or "Don't you want me to mkae more money??!!  so eventually I won't have to be gone so much. Don't you think I miss you too???" Right there, the switch into silencing me into both hopelessness and hopefulness.
    Of course I supported him. By nodding my head in acquiescence. By shutting up. By next to never questioning him, unless the concern were glaring, and I'd be ever so careful in softly asking if something were not quite right--then he'd just yell and cuss me back into my place.
     This promised home-night "a lot of the big players are going to be at my boss's house, just tonight though, with their wives, husbands, girlfriends--"  My light bulb: "Oh, so I could come?"  He stammered a little, "Huh?" ["Huh?" and "what?" were used interchangeably to stall while formulating an unplanned answer for  cover ups, slip ups, and outright lies].  I repeated the question hopefully.  Delayed, he acted pleasantly surprised, syrupy sweet voice I mistook for sincerity, "Sure baby. Of course you can come. That would be great, really. You want to come?"  Absolutely!
     He even told me how to dress for it. He said he'd swing by after they get a couple things [liquor] from the Publix [package store]. I heard his "peers" calling out what liquor to buy.  When pressed, my post-rehab spouse explained "I'm just here by the liquor store, outside of it, I'm not in it.--" CHANGE OF SUBJECT:  "Can you be ready Baby in 30 mins?"  Yep. 
     He said he'd pick me up in 45 mins.
     He never showed. I waited, touched up my make-up, a little more mascara, fluffed my hair a little...an hour. Hour and a half. Another hour. Calling him, no pick up. No return calls for my voice mssgs or for the pages. Three and a half hours later, in tears, I packed my bags for the first time I'd leave him. I was crying as I got in my car, "God, how could I be so stupid? This isn't the first time. Something's going on."
     I left, sobbing, to my parents' house. En route I left one last message: "You have broken my fucking heart! I hurried home, got sooo dressed up for you, and waited excited for you to show up at our home. And nothing. You are not here. How can you do this to me?? How do you do a thing like this to someone you say you love??"
     A couple days later, he said it never happened. He said in one seemingly somber though fleeting moment, "If I did something like that, that would make me a really bad person..."
     I jumped right in to his rescue, I didn't want him depressed, "No, Baby, it doesn't mean that you are a bad person. It was just very mean THING to do."  He looked past me and chirped that he didn't want to talk about it, in fact, he'd decided to leave early to go out of town for the week again. To leave, "Right now." And he did.
     He was always leaving me alone. With the dog I couldn't get near.  Then alone with our son.  I became a single parent living in the same home as my husband. It was a very sad situation.  I just kept waiting...always waiting... for a loving present husband...for our son's father...Waiting for the last call.
     Never happened. He abused alcohol. He abused drugs.  He abused his wife.  He abused our son.  Just in the last few months, I realized that he could be just as mean and hateful without alcohol.