He called....

               Today is the day. I am finally ready to write about my ex calling me. I don’t really know what has taken so long for me to write about this… I think I have been feeling apprehension because he told me he wanted to read my blog, and I was a little nervous (yeah, he said that. Maybe he did, I’ll never know). Nonetheless, today is the day.

               Let’s start from the beginning, meaning the beginning of two years ago. I was in a car accident that has rendered me mostly incapacitated. I have a condition called Occipital Neuralgia, it is the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I have had migraines and headaches almost every day for the last two years. This will hopefully be coming to an end, as I will be having surgery soon.

               Also, there’s my boy. My beautiful, little non-verbal man with Autism. He is going to be 6 next month (how???). The last two years, he has grown so so much. He is the strongest person I know. A warrior heart like a Klingon (yeah, I do that Star Trek thing #trekkie). He started kindergarten, and in the last month has grown more than he has in his little life. It has taken a lot of therapy, love, help from so many to help get him ready for this in his way, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.

               Now back to me. This last two years almost broke me, which might sound crazy because I was almost broken before, but no, this has been the hardest times of my life. My car accident humbled me to a level I didn’t know possible. I have learned and grown so much these last two years, and the day that my ex called me, had already been a horrible day. My son’s first day of school was a nightmare, it shook me to my core. I had been waiting for this day since he was diagnosed with Autism when he was only a little over one and a half years old. It went just about as I thought it would, but for some reason, maybe it was just the years of waiting for this day that did it, but it broke my heart in a way I didn’t know possible.

               To add insult to injury, as I had finally calmed myself down enough to finish out the day and remember, once again that everything was going to be okay, my ex called me while I was on the phone with my husband. I accidentally answered, then hung up. Then I got the text. “Kileigh?”. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hang up, who is this?”

               “It’s ______. I completely understand if you don’t want to talk, but I’ve had a sick feeling in my stomach for the last 10 years and I felt really strongly that I should call you.”

                

               I had been waiting for this. For some reason, I always knew he would reach out to me at some point. My reaction: he found me. He finally found me. I lost it. I was on the phone with my husband still when I got the text and told him “it’s him. Why?! He found me. He finally found me” and I couldn’t breathe. I blacked out. I flashed back. I was there again, and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t think I would be ever again and there I was, back in the car with him. He found me.

               Then, surprisingly, suddenly, there was this rush of peace. He found me. The moment I had been waiting for was over. He found me. It wasn’t face to face (thank the Lord) and it was on my terms. I could choose if I wanted to talk to him. I could finally know if after all this time he was looking for me like a psycho, or maybe things were fine, and he had changed. But I wouldn’t know until I talked to him. But would I? Should I? My husband was livid. He did not want me to. My family was supportive with whatever I decided to do. I prayed, but while I prayed I already knew. I needed to talk to him. I needed to know, and for some reason, there was this overwhelming peace in the depths of the core of my existence that I knew everything was going to be okay if I did.

               My husband came around, he wanted me to do what I needed to do to heal and move on with my life. So, I decided it was going to be okay. I told my ex we could talk.

               I asked him a couple of questions before we got down to it, but I wanted him to talk first. He started off by thanking me for being the first girl that he loved, for all the good times that we had together when things were good. He then talked about that one night that he has tried to justify after all this time, that one night that he knew he did something wrong. He said he tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t go away. “you mean the night you raped me?” I bluntly asked. “yes” he said.

               He admitted to it. He finally admitted to it. He said he couldn’t imagine the pain and fear it caused me all this time, so I graciously openly told him what it did. How I developed anxiety. How I suffered from PTSD. How I was afraid he was looking for me and was going to try to kill me. How it took me so long to trust anyone. How it negatively affected my marriage. I didn’t yell. I cried. I was finally able to tell him all the things I’ve wanted to. I was finally able to call him an A hole with a capital A. I was finally able to get the last word.

               But most importantly, I told him that I forgave him a long time ago. I had to so that I could marry my husband and try to move on with my life as best as I could. I think he was surprised to hear this, but it was true. I forgave him because ultimately, he made a mistake, and now I knew for certain that he had changed and was trying to be a better person.

               We talked for about 30 minutes. He said towards the end “I want to keep talking to you for hours, but that’s probably inappropriate.” “Yeah, we’re never talking again after this” I said, chuckling but also being 100% serious.

               I told him about this blog, he asked if he could read it. I said sure, but you need to realize I wasn’t nice about you at all and called you out as you were. He was fine with it, he said he needed to read it so that he could accept what he had done to me and move forward and for what it’s worth, I hope he did.

               The moment we got off the phone, I burst into tears. It was over. My husband held me, and I sobbed as I told him that the anxiety and constant fight or flight mode I’ve subconsciously been in for the last ten years was gone. A weight was lifted from my chest and from my life for good. I could finally move on.

               Yeah, I still have anxiety, which sucks and pissed me off the first time that I had a panic attack after talking to him, but I have not had to take a sleeping pill since I talked to him. I had the best night’s sleep of my life in ten years that night, and every night since. I am free.

               I have been blessed with an incredible opportunity. Not everyone gets this opportunity. Not everyone’s attacker changes and tries to make amends. I am incredibly grateful every day for the reality that I was given a gift from my ex. His apology changed my life.

               I wonder if he will read this. I’ll never know. I want him to know if he does, that I have been able to become more myself every day. I have been able to reach a potential that I did not know was possible. There are so many things going on in my life right now that I would not have been able to handle if it wasn’t for him calling me. So, thank you for getting the stones to call me, even though you didn’t know how I was going to respond. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to heal, and I hope that you can heal, too.