I need to stray from the format for just a minute.

Don't worry, I will continue with the tale in the next post :)

But I've been mentally shredded for the last week now and I just need to talk about it, maybe come to some realization, conclusion, or otherwise try to make sense of this. And, as these are personal blogs, we all have license to take these little breaks in format without too much guilt or worry that the casualness of such a shift will be disapproved of.

I've been rather lucky in my lifetime, in that I've never found myself in a physically abusive relationship. Most of my girlfriends have. I had one incident about 4 years ago, where the man I was dating tossed me around a hotel room in Las Vegas a bit, but there were never any actual "blows" to either one of us. I sported a bruise or two on my arms for a few days, and the relationship came to an abrupt end.

I remember that I scared myself, in that I didn't immediately jump to "You're outta here!" I had seen my friends beaten and battered into submission so many times that I would proudly proclaim that any man who dare raise a hand to me, wouldn't be around long enough to pull it back. And the first time it happened? I found myself clinging to the possibility that it was fixable. I tried to convince him to work it out. I'm actually quite grateful that he was stronger than I was at the time, and refused.

I do not have a boyfriend, and I am not even remotely romantically involved with anyone. I started a self-proclaimed sabbatical from relationships over a year ago, and I am less stressed and happier for it. (Less complications, you know?) So I wonder, would I immediately crumple again if I was romantically involved with a man who became physically violent towards me?

I say all this as a lead in: About a week ago, a man who I met just over six months ago, turned violent on me. He is EXTREMELY gay, and with me on sabbatical, our friendship just made sense. We grew quite close rather quickly, and intensely, closer than I can say I've had in many many years, maybe decades. We are both currently experiencing hardships in our lives, albeit in different areas, and are both looking to sort of "start over." He needs to leave his current living situation, and was moving in with me, as my roommate.

I've never had a roommate before. My MOM lived here for the first 4 years I had this place, and even though our relationship became much more liberated than most mother-daughter relationships, she was still my mom, and not really a roommate. And then there was my husband for about 5 years, obviously not a roommate. So this was going to be a challenge to me, and I knew there would be some growing pains. So did he. (Who, by the way, had almost all his life lived with a roommate or lover, and rarely alone.)

Okay, long story short, we were not able to work through the growing pains. It got bad. I got pushed down the stairs, clothes ripped and even blood running down the side of my face before it was over.

I find myself in a unique position, that I would imagine very few women would ever be in. This man was not my boyfriend. I was not in love with him. We were not physically intimate with each other. We did, however, have an unexpected, deep, and intense friendship, and cared about each other a great deal. I am no fool. I know that there is no fixing it. He crossed a line, and you just can't uncross it. He may have never hit a woman before, and he may never hit a woman again, but he did hit me, hard enough to bleed. His mind has been there, and it can go back. It's not "forbidden" territory anymore.

But I was able to better understand why women are so quick to forgive and attempt to make the union work. The act itself was so enraged, so unplanned, and so impulsive. In mere seconds, our entire relationship was wiped out. Neither one of us really had a say or input into this result, and yet, we are both forced to terminate our friendship without warning, without discussion, and without a goodbye. I'm not used to having to make such large decisions without a sufficient amount of thought, debate, and reason. I have to accept this outcome and I don't get any say in it. It's a helpless place to be and I can't help but feel stunned and traumatized from it all. I don't WANT it, at all! I still love him dearly, still worry about the issues he's having to face on his own now, without me there, as I have been for the last six months, every step of the way. I still worry about the issues I now face alone, when I had thought my best friend would be standing by me so I didn't have to deal with it all alone, either.

I do want to call him. I do want to just forget that it happened, go back to the way things used to be. I want to convince myself that we are two mature adults that can certainly keep that kind of thing in check, it will never happen again. But no. We went to a place that had been "forbidden" and now it's tainted, like butterfly wings. I know that this is the case, I know that I can't change it, I know that I must accept that he can never again be a part of my life.

But I tell you what... It fuckin' sucks.