“We’re both going straight to Hell, and you KNOW why!” Those are the words I heard coming out of my mouth while I was on my hands and knees trying to clean up the water all over the floor. I had been holding a glass of water during an extremely intense “moment of fellowship” with this man. He had put his hands on me one too many times and when he walked towards me I had finally had enough. I threw the water at him, but I missed and on the floor it went. What on earth could cause such things to happen, especially on Valentine’s eve, into the waking hours of Valentine’s Day ruining it forever?
“Is complete honesty really that hard to give to the person you love?”
H.O.N.E.S.T.Y., that is the ONLY thing I want from a man. No matter how many times I said, “Just tell me the truth, if you tell me I can help you!”, he always felt the need to lie. I’m a woman, we KNOW when something is wrong. I could feel it. Every single time, I was right. No matter what it was he had done, I somehow managed to stumble upon it. He would never confess on his own. He didn’t even come clean once I had the evidence. I would confront him, shove my proof in his face and he would lie. Over and over. It was exhausting. At some point, he would finally give me a sliver of truth and from there I could piece it together. Then he would acknowledge what he had done. However, his unrepentant heart began to scare me.
One Valentine’s eve, I had seen something that made no sense and I almost uncovered his newest betrayal. He couldn’t let that happen and that is how I found myself on his living room floor. Tears streamed down my face as I reached up, grabbed his shirt, looked into his eyes and began to plead with him. Over and over I pleaded with him, “Please!!! Please tell me what I’m fighting with!!! Pleeeeeeeaaaaasssssseeee!!!” I needed to know where his rage was coming from. What on earth had he done this time. What secret of his could possibly cost me my life? I had to know. No matter how much I hurt, how much I begged… nothing. He said nothing. He became calm and showed no emotion. No matter how many times I asked, he wouldn’t tell me what it was he was hiding. He wouldn’t tell me what it was that I had stumbled upon this time. He was busted yet again. He was guilty as heck and he wasn’t going to tell me anything.
When I looked at his eyes, they were dark and I saw NOTHING in them. I cried and I begged with everything in me. I was desperate to help him. I was ready to fight FOR HIM. I didn’t want to give him up. I had given him chance after chance to come clean. The truth I can deal with. The truth I can make sense out of. The truth I can handle. Nothing was ever bad enough to make me stop loving him… nothing.
He never understood any of that. Still, I continued to beg and plead with him. Nothing. Nothing in his eyes. No remorse, no compassion, no guilt, no repentance… nothing. I couldn’t believe it. I will never forget what I saw. I will never forget the hate he spewed when he opened his mouth. I had been here before. So many times, I had been on the floor, crying and I was tired. I was so tired.
He was always hiding something. The amount of time and energy it took to get to the truth was insane. Lie after lie. Round and round we would go. Eventually, the truth would come out. I had done everything to make him happy. For me, love was all consuming. It was like air to me. I NEEDED it. I thought I couldn’t live without it. If he didn’t love me, I had no reason to live.
I would do almost anything for him. Once again, I felt like I had sold pieces of my soul for a man. Whenever I expressed remorse for our sins, he would look at me as if he had none. I knew he would do it all again in a heartbeat.
This particular night, he seemed to have no soul and I called him the Devil. I had done things for him that made me feel like I was going straight to Hell. And he knew it.
I tried to save him. One Valentine’s Day… I finally gave up.
I vowed I would NEVER be on the floor begging a man for anything ever again. I refused to fight for him one more second. I refused to compete with his addictions. I refused to compete with everything I had been competing with. I finally gave up on him for good. I am no Angel and I could never save him from himself.
The truth… that was all I wanted from him. And it was the truth that he decided was too much to give. It cost more than I did. To him, his secrets were worth more to him than I ever would be.
I always say that I would storm through Hell with a water pistol for the people I love. I refuse to give up. If I think I can save you, NOTHING will stop me. After that night, I realized it wasn’t him I should be focused on saving.
Confession #6: My Man calls me his “Angel”, but I never feel like one.
Amazed By His Grace,