Part Three

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Something changed inside me that night at the club.  My mystery man whom I had completely fallen for had disappeared without a trace. He haunted my thoughts and dreams for years after our encounter. I would find myself searching crowds for him or following men who resembled him.

After months I had given up hope that he would reappear. My friends had set me up with an ex military man. He was a wonderful distraction from my blue eyed monster. I soon found myself falling head over heels for him. He was no longer just a distraction and I had given him my whole heart. 

We would disappear to lavish destinations for weeks at a time. The best trips, though, were when we would simply load up the car and just drive. Him and I could just pick a direction and go. Just having him with me was the best part of my entire existence. It was on these trips that I would slowly open up to him about my past. He had learned of my parents drug abuse and my physical abuse. The worst was when he learned of my sexual abuse. We had been driving north on a busy highway but that didn't stop him from swerving to the side of the road. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a bone crushing hug as I cried into his chest. This man was truthfully too good for me. 

A year passed and I had moved into his massive family estate. We were truly happy; I was truly happy... or so I thought. I had fooled everyone including myself. My scars decorated my body, they were just invisible to the naked eye and He was the only one who could see them besides myself. He was my blue eyed love from so long ago. Of course I hadn't the slightest clue of this.

My soon to be husband was everything a woman could ask for but he left me just like everyone else I had loved. He reenlisted and left me.

We fought and fought before he left. I didn't want him to leave and risk his life. He wanted to fight for our country. My heart shattered as I remained in our home. He said I was being selfish. If this was me being selfish then damn it all because I wanted to be selfish.

He would write to me but I wouldn't read them nor talk to him. I did wrong by him and brought men back to our home. They meant nothing but to keep the silence away. This house was much too large to be alone in. I needed something to fill the silence and fill the hole that was growing in my heart.

The third worst day of my life happened four months after he left. I had been out front reading under a massive shade tree. The house had become too much for me that day. A black BMW pulled through the front gates and circled the large driveway. I remained seated as I watched two soldiers emerge from the backseats.

From this distance I couldn't tell if one of them was my husband or not. They were both tall and had similar builds.

"I'm here!" I called to them.

They both turned to the sound of my voice. I stood from my hiding spot as they started to approach. As they grew closer I could tell they weren't my love. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest and I prepared myself for what was to come. I knew this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. 

Hearing of your husbands death is the worst thing imaginable. 

I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry, I couldn't think.

My body was numb to everything around me. They handed me an envelope with all the details of what had occurred. I couldn't even respond so I nodded a thank you and made my way into the big empty house. 

Deep inside I knew I was to blame. If I had been a better lover, a better fiance, a better person then he wouldn't have left. He would have still been here living a normal life. 

It was at this moment I decided to read the letters he had finally sent me. They described the life we would have when he returned in just a few short months. He would never leave me again and we would go on all the long trips like we use to. 

I screamed.

I cried.

I broke.

From that moment I numbed myself to every emotion. I trapped myself deep inside and I refused to ever risk subjecting myself to that pain again. 

The funeral wasn't a large ceremony, he wouldn't have wanted it that way. His family came and I couldn't pull my eyes away from the little girl that sat across from me. Her and her father arrived almost late to the occasion. She wouldn't look up at anyone and hid herself in his shadow. 

I knew right away the signs. She was going to have to face worse when she got older and I reminded myself to make an anonymous phone call after this retched day was over. 

The service was short and in a blink of an eye they were lowering him into the ground. I refused to cry or show anything. Everyone started to disperse to their homes where they would hug their family a little tighter. I remained standing next to his grave until I could finally breathe. 

"I really loved you," I whispered as I dropped my engagement ring into the hole with him. This was the end and I could breathe.  

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