July 4, 1998

Without disclosing real names I’ll try to shed light on this. I had been best friends with my friend  for many years. When she met her boyfriend I really didn’t take to him and she hadn’t taken to my boyfriend either. She married first and then I did. We both didn’t like each others spouse and my issues with her husband were his flirting with me and I tried warning her. Plus she told me things he did to her that made me just sick to think of it. So I went to Texas and came home for a visit and we got together. She didn’t encourage me about her situation at that time. Still same old shit but I had left my husband. I learned from my mistakes and I hoped she’d learn too. By the time I returned from New York I met up with her again. This time she said he changed blah blah blah and I don’t know why but I believed her this time.

I saw him at a bar one night when I was out with my Dad and it actually had seemed like he changed. He was being nice to me and not an asshole as he usually was so I thought I would let go of the grudge. The next evening was Friday and he called me up to ask me if I wanted to catch something to eat a “fish fry” or something and I did this many times in the past with male friends I had and nothing happened so I thought why not. So I went. I didn’t consider it a “date” or anything remotely romantic. Things changed quite quickly. We were driving to this restaurant in Tomahawk and he started saying things that made me totally uncomfortable. I started getting scared or a little tense. I tried to brush it off as having too much liquor the night before and still being hung over or just being hungry. I had a bad feeling. When we arrived in Tomahawk the place was packed and there was a two-hour waits so we decided to go to Minocqua without any luck there so on the way back to town we stopped at the Fireside, which is just outside Rhinelander. We had a drink at the bar while we were waiting to be seated and he was becoming the person I hated all those years. I suppose I could’ve tried to get a hold of someone to come and get me there but I put up with his attitude to the bartender and the waitress. I just wanted to get through the meal and go home.

After dinner was through I thought good I’ll just tell him to bring me home, the next day was the fourth of July and I needed to work early. So we were leaving and my Dad’s place isn’t that far from the Fireside but he was at work and would be until after 11pm. When he drove us to Townline Park I got real scared. He said he just wanted to talk but he didn’t. He started being touchy feely and grabby and I fought him off as much as I could. I yelled at him and told him I wanted to go home and I actually thought he was going to bring me home. He could’ve killed me and dumped my body at that time and no one would’ve known better except for Greg my co-worker who I was talking to before he showed up. So he started driving and I said several times to bring me home now and he just drove past my Dad’s place and brought me to his place.

I wanted to die. I thought I was going to die and I didn’t want him to touch me and I just wanted to get away. I was so scared so I went in the house and he said to relax and that didn’t make things better. We argued and fought and I told him I didn’t feel well and wanted to go home. I told him I thought I was going to throw up. So he said he was going to go get something for my stomach. I was then alone in the house but I was scared he actually didn’t leave and that he was still in the driveway. It was dark and I didn’t know where the phone was and I didn’t know whom to call. All I wanted was to leave escape anything. When he returned he started back up with his shit more and we fought and he raped me. I’m shortening it because I don’t want to get into any more details of that evening.

After it was over he drove me home at 2am I went to the bathroom. I hurt so badly and I wanted to die. I also needed to talk to someone and so I called Greg. I didn’t even have to say what happened and he knew and he was willing to do whatever, go to the hospital, police whatever. From my prior experience with the cops I didn’t want to have anything to do with them and the hospital in town was also out of the question but I needed a friend and Greg became my friend.

Greg and I talked for a while. He didn’t know much at that time for details but he just listened and was very understanding. It was super late by the time I got off the phone with him. I got the clothes I decided to wear the next day out and told him to wake me up cause I didn’t think I could get up on my own. Little did I know how bad it would affect my sleep for a very long time after. The next morning Greg woke me up and I went into the bathroom and took a shower and looked over what damage I received the night before. It wasn’t pretty. There were bruises and there were bite marks on my back and I hurt so badly all over. I managed to get dressed and leave for work. Greg met me at the station and I didn’t feel safe. I was so scared. He tried to reassure me as best as he could and tried to help me through my on air shift. It’s not easy to put on a happy face or sound happy when you’re in physical and great emotional shock and pain but somehow I made it through it.

I was supposed to go to my aunts for a picnic so I made Greg go with me and he said he wouldn’t leave me and help me leave my aunts. My family probably thought I was nuts. I was wearing my Yankee shirt and a sweatshirt over that and long jeans and it was a hot day. I didn’t want anyone to see the bruises and I wanted to be comfortable. We ate and Greg said he had to get back to the station so we left. When we went to my Dad’s and went inside I grabbed some things I needed and I wasn’t there very long when the Asshole drove by my Dad’s. That’s when I knew I was in trouble and couldn’t stay at my Dad’s. So Greg and I took off for his place and I got drunk. One of many nights, night after night of getting drunk to try to soothe some of my pain. Greg seen the bruises and the bite marks and helped me through the panic attacks and nightmares and crying fits and yelling fits. It wasn’t pretty.

Four days past staying at my Dad’s staying drunk and in my room. Then that Friday I had an unexpected visitor show up at the house and I was petrified to I got my Dad’s hunting knife and called Greg and he came over. The Asshole was there and he chased him down my Dad’s backyard and took me back to his place. I slept with my Dad’s hunting knife more than one night and was drunk a lot. The panic attacks made it impossible to eat cause I kept throwing up and the pain was getting to me so I numbed myself by drinking. Greg and I would go to Wausau several times a week till the wee hours and I would be drunk and driving very fast. Then there were also the episodes. The blips of time or everything that happened while I was driving and we almost went off the road. Tri-County called them disassociative episodes.

Eventually I crawled my way back slowly. For a while the only way I could or would eat and I had to almost be forced to eat was when I was drunk then Greg would get me to eat. Otherwise nothing stayed down. I was a wreck. I thank God I had Greg there those awful months of anguish and am so sorry that I put him through so much shit.

**Update June 2005**

Ok flash-forward. Let me tell you a few more things about this situation.  Last year my friend’s stepfather got in touch with me where I worked to inform me that the Asshole was no longer with us.

You have no idea what it is like to lose someone you absolutely hate.  I felt like I won the lottery when he told me but then I had to find out more. When I got home from work I tried to find his obituary and stumbled across two.. it said he died ‘at home’ so the first thought I had was that she killed him! 🙂 I was happier but I also found out he was cremated and buried in a Catholic cemetery and at the time that really upset me… landfill was more like where I thought he deserved to have his ashes strewn.   When I did find more details it didn’t surprise me. Apparently Amy and him were arguing over another woman, which was no big surprise for me, and he took a gun and put it behind his ear and shot himself.  All I can say is that I am sorry that he did that to her.

I don’t feel sorry for him. I am glad he’s dead. He can’t hurt anyone else anymore. He raped me, my friend, one of her brother’s ex-girlfriends and I’m sure there were others as well. The guy deserves to be dead. Good riddance!