I will be adding more soon

I have been working on a new manuscript and have been busy. I will be continuing with the story of what happened and why I am writing books now. Love to all of you! You are truly beautiful people.

Amongst the Wreckage

The pictures are Jose before and after, I couldn't get them in the right order. These photos were taken less than a year apart. I awoke just after 10am and the children were awake and letting me sleep. My eyes were swollen and nearly shut. My mouth was dry and my throat was dry, burning from thirst. My head was pounding. I didn't even want to think and I especially did not want to feel. The hotels check-out time was noon so I have to make a decision quickly about whether I was going to stay another night or go home and deal with the wreckage there. After a few phone calls that I thought I wanted to make but I really didn't want to talk, I decided to go home with the kids and make plans. I put the kids in my car and headed for the store. I didn't know why, but that is where I went. We were wandering aimlessly through the store and I realized that I wanted to buy a new set of door locks. I bought them and prayed I could get them installed before he got to my house. We went home and I circled the block about five times looking for Jose's truck. It wasn't anywhere around. I parked in off the alley and hustled the kids inside. The house was trashed. I was devastated. The refrigerator was open and my office file cabinets were dumped out all over the office. I gave the baby to my daughter and the older kids started trying to put the house to rights. I went in search of tools, I had never changed a doorknob, but I was going to do it now. Changing a doorknob is HARD, especially when you have no idea what you are doing adn charged with fear that you will be attacked at any moment. I finally got it done on the back door only, when Jose drove his truck into the alley and onto the parking slab. What do I do? What can I do? Well, I shut and locked the door, that was a start, but the front door was still the same lock. He tried to open the door, he couldn't, he tried to unlock the door, he couldn't, he started to pound and yell. I called the police. He went to the front door and I sent the children to my room. He was furious and half-crazed. "The police are coming" I backed away from him. "I don't give a shit." He was steadily advancing and looked dangerous. There was a knock on the door. Thankfully, it was the police. I spoke with them and asked them to take him away and I was going to swear out a protection order. I was floored when they told me that I couldn't make him leave because he is my husband, but I was free to leave and I couldn't take my babies. WHAT??!! Believe it or not readers, that was the assitance that I received from the police in my town. None. I couldn't afford to go to a hotel again. My mom and sisters didn't have the room for all of us. I had to think of something until I could get him out of the house. I called an old friend of mine from Durango and asked him for help. He told me that he could offer Jose a job taking some pickup trucks down to Nuevo Laredo for him and that would buy me some time. I agreed and gave him Jose's cell number. He called him after 9pm. The kids and I stayed in my room and I put the other lock on my bedroom door. Jose pounded on my door and called me filthy names and advised me that he was leaving for Nuevo Laredo in the morning. Relief! I spent the night in and out of sleep, worrying about everything and feeling sorry for myself. I heard Jose leave at 4am. I assumed that he left for the trip, but I really didn't know. I waited until 8:30 to leave my room. Noone was in the house exept for me and the kids. I went to the upstairs windows at the back of the house and the truck was gone. I woke the children and the six of us cleaned the house until 2p, and then we sat down to talk and decide what to do. The kids were upset, understandably, and they wanted their papi back, but they were afraid of him too. I told them that I was going to the courthouse on Monday to get a restraining order to keep him away from the house and to try and make life normal again. Until then, we needed to stay close and work through everything as a team. I was so confused about everything, it was like living in a nightmare, my life was a lie and I didn't know. I was so stupid that I didn't see the signs for what they were. I couldn't let a tweaker stay in my house putting me and the children in danger. My new baby was due in less than a month and I knew it was a little boy. I didn't know how we were going to make it, but then I realized that I was doing it all myself anyway. I was a good provider, I would make it work. I just had to get everything started on Monday, tomorrow, I had to call into the office think up a good lie, I couldn't let anyone know what kind of a mess that I found myself in.

The Confrontation

Well, I was outside waiting for Jose to show up, all the while listening to Mary tell me how my marriage was according to the "love of her life". I saw the truck, which I paid for, turn the corner and pull to the side of the building. I walked over to the driver's door and opened it. I hit Jose three times rapidly in the side of the head. He reeled. I am sure I made an impression. I stepped back and man was I furious! Mary runs up and yelling, "you can't hit him!” Well, I did and would have done it more, but he got out of the truck with a speedometer cable in his hand. She rushed forward and he began beating her with it. Some "love of my life", I guess she was wrong. I yelled at him to stop hitting her and her son rushed to her defense as well. He got attacked also with the cable. My best friend stepped up and grabbed me back. The whole time, Jose is yelling "I don't know you". I felt like I was on an episode of LAURA EN AMERICA. It was horrible and very public. She started screaming that she was pregnant and she was going to make him pay child support and that she was calling to police and would turn him in for pimping her out to get meth. Yes, I said PIMPING her out for meth. I guess she would give sexual favors for drugs to share with him. How lovely is that? I was devastated, I am pregnant and according to the prostitute girlfriend, it had been going on for about a year. He jumped in the truck and took off burning rubber out of the convenience store driveway. While, he was attacking her son, Mary had called 9-1-1. The police were on there way. I had my best friend go to my house to collect all of the kids and meet me in a Wal-Mart parking lot across town. I would figure things out from there. The police showed up, she filed charges, I didn't know where he went, and basically, a public scene was created for all to enjoy. A little note about me, your blogger and sister in misery, I do not do well with public scenes. I generally, do everything in my power to avoid them. This time of my life is the worst moment in my life. I found out that my husband was a junkie, adulterer, and may have exposed my unborn baby to any number of diseases, and to top it all off I was the center of a public scene. I went to my car and just sat there, no tears, just numbness and an aching pain in the pit of my stomach. I tried to regain my composure and regulate my breathing. I needed a hotel room, sleep, and to hold my babies. Three of my regular customers came over to the car to see if I needed anything. They were Mexican men that I had dealt with every weekend for the past three years. They were kind and understanding of my dilemma. One of them, Jose Luis, handed me a hundred dollar bill and told me to get a hotel and give him a call if he could help me or if I got scared. His offer was appreciated, albeit suspect. I took the money said thanks and called my best-friend to meet me at a local Holiday Inn. My cell phone was ringing constantly and I turned it off when I got to the hotel room. I had no desire to speak with Jose. I did not have anything to say to him. By the time I had the kids settled and sleeping, it was four in the morning and I was wrung out and strung out. I am not sure when I fell asleep, but I did sleep and woke with a headache and puffy eyes. I had to get the kids and myself to a stable situation without too much interference from Jose.

I Wish I Had Seen the Signs

Well, the situation continued along in much the same way for a year and some months. Jose stopped showering regularly; he wore the same stinky clothes with holes and all. He was irrational and crazed most of the time. Fortunately, he wasn't around much and when he was, he stayed in the basement starting projects and never finishing them. I don't think he was sleeping at all it seemed. He was gone all weekend and he now had a cell phone that he didn't answer. I wasn't thinking that he was being unfaithful, because, honestly, who would want him. He was really getting to be gross as hell. I started referring to him as "Scruffy". The kids had plays or needed to be picked up from events and would make me promise not to send "Papi". Yes, it was that bad, that the children were ashamed of him. By this time, I was tele-commuting for my job as a travel agent and servicing the Miami office in Spanish and English. It was better than having to leave to commute to the office everyday, and of course casual Friday took on a whole new meaning. The biggest problem with working from home is that you can end up actually living at work. I did that. I didn't take any breaks and I was working more hours than were required. I was salary so there was no monetary benefit. Jose would occasionally come to my bedroom and have sex with me. Not together mind you; it felt more like I wasn't even there. Ladies you know what I am talking about. It made me cry, and feel even worse about myself and the situation. I had lost a substantial amount of weight and was back to kick boxing at the dojo a few times a week taking classes, but I felt dizzy and tired and I felt like I had indigestion and bloating most of the time. Additionally, I was still working all weekend at the convenience store for extra money to pay off the truck. Jose was making $1000.00 or more every week but if I was lucky he would hand over a couple hundred and we had a ton of bills. Well, kind readers, yes, I was pregnant again. Isn't it funny how fertile you are in the first year after having a baby? The act had been very infrequent and yet I was pregnant. I continued along with the same routine, minus kick boxing and went on with life and the family. The new baby was due two years to the day of Teo's birthday. Life was sad, lonely, and I was broke, but I keep moving ahead and tried to make things better. I didn't know how to, but I tried anyway. I was working at the station the night of 9/11 and I worked so hard to get everyone the fill up they wanted and avoided the cars that almost hit me, I was six months pregnant. My life changed the weekend after Halloween. Everything changed and I saw the light. As is the case with most change it was painful, very painful. We had a regular customer that would come to the station and he was noticable "Fabulous" if you catch my drift. I am generally very popular with "Fabulous" men, partly because I enjoy their cattiness. This one, however, always was just shy of outright rude to me all the time. I found that odd. This night he came in, bought cigarettes, and finally spoke his mind. "You seem like a nice person, and I really want to hate you!" "Why?" I countered with shock. "OK, I will tell you. Your husband is going with my mom." I was in shock, that familiar cold feeling swept through me. I wanted to cry, shout, strangle, or kill someone. I did nothing. I was crushed. "You must have me confused with someone else." "No, I don't he said you worked here and my mom has me come in here so she can see what you look like, and you are the only one that is always here when he says you are working. Jose's (he said JoZEE) description of you is different though." I remained as calm as I could. I asked if I could talk with his mother. She was outside in the car watching us talk. He went to get her My heart was pounding and I was short of breath. She came in. She was six feet tall, indian, short black hair, tattoos on her neck, arms, and legs. She was mannish. She proceeded to tell me that Jose was in love with her and I wouldn't give him a divorce. I asked her to wait and we would clear this up. As I dialed the house, I felt powerful for the first time in a long time. "Jose, your girlfriend is here and you have five minutes to get here or get the hell out of my house." I hung up the phone. Mary, the girlfriend, waited for him outside. I explained to my good friend that I was working the shift with that I had to go and deal with the situation. She understood and I punched out. I called my sparing partner from the dojo, who is also my best friend to come down and watch my back. She did. Rememeber folks I am due in 2 months and dealing with this garbage and the mess he has given me.

Things got even worse

Well, here is what that little angel looked like, but he is 3 years old in this picture. Let me tell you what led up to this. I was 3 months pregnant when Jose started telling me that he would have more if he were single. His friends were better off because they had gold and nice clothes and nice trucks...etc. I reminded him that he had a house and children and a new truck. He was so skinny and wouldn't eat at home. I didn't know what to do. His brothers would stop by infrequently and they loved my cooking. I started to notice that when his family was around he would do everything in his power to insult me viciously. I didn't appreciate that, because I feel that respect is important. If I had anything to say to him I waited until we were alone, and did not want anyone else to hear. He didn't feel the same way. He would be home and just disappear, he would spend all of his time in the basement and half the time would sneak out and be gone for hours. Secretly, I was glad. I didn't have to deal with his mouth at those times. It was 1999 and times were good financially, but I was still working the part-time job to pay for the truck and to send extra money to Honduras so that my sister-in-law could attend college to become a teacher. I found out that my sisters-in-law here were referring to me as "the whale". That hurt, but keep in mind I am pregnant, 5'8" and I weigh 180 lbs. They, however are 5'0" and weigh about the same as me. But I choose to wear clothes that fit and don't try to squeeze into a size 10 miniskirt and tube top. I am opposed to having more rolls than a bakery. The other thing that was criticized was that I dress "like a man", or a "drug dealer". I wear nice jeans, a dress blouse, and high-heeled black boots. Most of my other friends (also Chicana) dress the same way. I will never understand these Honduran women. Speaking of which, the ex-girl from Honduras is also calling the house from various pay phones and when I answer she says she is "his friends wife", and she needs to talk to him. I remember the voice, I give him the phone and wait, he tells her "no puedo" WHAT! what happened to "No quiero"...well, that opened a new can of worms. He admitted that one night when he was mad at me he called her. HEARTBREAK! We aren't talking at all, and he is sleeping on the couch. I got the cable bill and there are $700.00 worth of porno on demand on the bill. I lost the cable, phone, and the internet. He can't be home, he needs to watch TV. He sleeps in the house, after 2am in the morning. He leaves at 6am to work. I am going insane. I am pregnant, working 2 jobs, taking care of kids, and dealing with high bills and now he won't pay anything in the house. Yep, he stopped contributing to the household. Because, we were making him poor. Funny, he didn't buy any clothes or gold, or anything else for that matter. One night I came home from the second job at 3am after stopping at my mom's to get my kids, he was there and he had destroyed the house. He overturned all the beds, he smeared dog poop from the yard on the kids' bed. He said he did it because the rooms were messy and the kids didn't pick up the dog poop out of the yard. I was shocked to say the least. He was wild-eyed, and I wondered if he was insane or possessed by a demon. I went and put my bed together, yes, 8 months pregnant, and crawled into my bed with 2 very scared babies. When we woke up in the morning he was gone. I was glad. It took me three days to put everything back in order. Autumn turned to winter and he spend all of his time in the basement or gone. My water broke on New Year's Day at 3 in the afternoon, it was time. Jose screamed at me for over an hour. He didn't want to take me to the hospital. He had other things to do. I finally got him to take me, but he left me at the door and wouldn't carry my bag in for me. "What is wrong with him?" My mother picked up the kids and left them with one of my sisters and she came to be with me at the hospital. My sweetheart was born at 10:01pm 01/01/2000. He was too small, only 5 lbs and he looked like a little old man. I knew something was wrong. I took him home and the kids loved him, but he wouldn't eat, he looked jaundiced. I took him to the pediatrician, he wasn't available, I saw a different doctor. "his color could be due to his being bi-racial" WHAT??? I insisted on a blood test...he wieghed 4lbs 4ozs. We went home. The doctor's office called and told me to take him to Children's Hospital. We went to the emergency room and they admitted him to the hospital. He was jaundiced. The specialists came into the room around 4am. They talked to me about a Rare Liver Disease that they wanted to test my baby for. OK. They came and took a ton of blood from my very little baby. They had biliruben lights on him 24hours with no change. The specialists came back, he had the disease. I died a little. I cried. I prayed. His dad still hadn't seen him or cared to. Jose would not answer a page. My son was 5 days old before his father saw him, in the hospital with a feeding tube in his nose. Jose began accusing me of causing the disease, what had I done to make him sick, was I too lazy, did I eat the wrong things, or worse did I not exercise enough or did I do something evil that I was being punished for? GREAT!!! I already feel devastated, now it is my fault. He told his family that the baby was sick because I was a smoker before I was pregnant. Nice huh? Well, turns out that the disease Alpha 1 Anti-trypticene is a GENETIC abnormality that came from his side of the family. His mother lost four jaundiced babies. I thank the lord my baby was born in the USA. He is fine, and is checked every year by the same specialists. I guess the point is that when I needed him most, he was not there for me.

Two New Children

The other thing that I experienced and maybe it is cultural and maybe not, my readers must help me with this, my husband was always so distant. We went nowhere together; he went to his family parties alone. He went for beer after work with the crew. He never wanted to talk or have a conversation at all unless it was him talking and me listening. He never bought me a gift in our years together, not for Christmas, Mother's Day, My Birthday, Valentine's Day, or our anniversary. It hurt, but he explained that it was not they way things were done in Honduras. I believed him, I didn't know any better. He also told me that Honduran women were better because the never questioned where their husband's went or what they did. When we would argue he would tell me that he would be better off with a woman that worked at the packing house, because she made less money, but she spent less and would dedicate all of her time to scrubbing the house and bleaching the sidewalks and concrete surrounding the house. I could never understand why that was a great thing. I started gaining weight, a lot of weight, tons of weight. I felt horrible, I looked horrible, and I felt worthless. He never asked a question that didn't start with "Why did you.....?" I felt like I was always on the defensive. He started to be more distant, lose weight, and we would frequently have "you’re not worth shit weekends". For those of you that do not know what those are, they are when nothing you do or have EVER done is good enough. The criticism starts on Friday and doesn't cease until time to leave for work on Monday morning. We received a call late one night from Harlingen, TX. It was Jose's 15 year old cousin, Carlos, calling from INS holding. He had no other family here in the US except for Jose and the other siblings and the only citizen were me and the Puerto Rican sister-in-law that had stayed with us. I stepped up to the plate and I worked with an international lawyer in Texas to get custody and to start the legalization process for the boy. Carlos arrived a month later, with 1 bag, and very bad teeth. I remember the first time I saw him. Carlos was extremely underweight and small for his age. He was skittish and painfully shy. I started feeding him four times a day and we made a series of 12 dental appointments that summer in order to fix his teeth so that he could start high school in the fall without feeling self-conscious. He gained 39 pounds, and grew five inches that summer. When school started, Carlos was 5'5" and weighed 145 and looked like a different kid. He was scared to start school, but excited at the same time. I was surprised to learn that he had never attended school and could not even read. His family lived on the streets in Copan, Honduras. I could barely believe it. He began school and seemed more confident and happy with his new life. Another late night phone call... Yes another child, Edwin, he was 13 years old and not related to Jose, but the lawyer that I had worked with was calling to see if I would take him in as well. This boy did not have family here except for a father that he came looking for. His father abandoned his pregnant mother and the mother left for parts unknown as soon as he was born, he had lived with his grandmother in Olancho and she had passed away. Of course, I took him in. Edwin was thin, but tall, and gregarious. He was well loved and cared for, he was educated and a whiz at math. He fit in right away in high school. We were a bigger and happier family. That is what I thought, for a while. Jose started losing weight, he wouldn't eat my food. He would throw his plate against the wall and tell me the food was shit. I kept wondering what I had done to cause the change in him (typical female response). The food had too much salt or not enough, the flavor was too strong or it had none, I hadn't changed anything. During this time, I bought him a Ford F-150 Black Pickup truck for his birthday/Christmas on my credit (which was damn near perfect). I took a second job speaking Spanish and managing a convenient store on the weekends. I became pregnant with our first baby then. I was thrilled. We are both very light so I wondered what my new angel would look like.

Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

I worked 2 jobs for six months and so did Jose. In that time we saved enough to start looking for a new house so that we could marry and then live together. Remember we have been dating for a few years by this time and always maintained separate homes. I did not want to set an example for my children that I personally could not approve. We started looking at homes and I found some very cute ones. Jose wanted to buy this disgustingly ugly, run-down POS with 3 bedrooms, 1 bath, and a dirt basement. Why??? It was going for $28,000.00. I don't think that it was even worth that much. It was GROSS. Of course, we bought it. We spent three days just killing bugs that the 15 Mexican men that rented the house had left behind. Yes, I said 15. I scrubbed and cussed. Then I cussed and scrubbed. Finally, the house was clean enough for the kids to come home. They had their own bedrooms and we had ours. We couldn't afford the house and a wedding so we were married by a judge, and no one was there (my family was running on Chicano time). So, when the ceremony (sic) was over we went home and changed clothes. I made lunch and he went to his brother's house to hang out. While I was unpacking everything, I found a white frilly blouse XS. My heart stopped in my chest, I felt light headed. I was numb. When he returned I asked him about the blouse. He was sure it was a joke played on him by his ex-roommate. I believed him. The bright side of the new house was that the new neighborhood was full of little kids and my sweeties had the yard full of neighbor kids. They were having a blast! Jose wasn't drinking at; he wasn't really a drinker in the first place so I felt reassured that the previous incident was isolated and wouldn't happen again. We went on like that for several years. The worst part about our relationship at that time was that I learned that Jose was a "Pot-head". That is something that I did not know beforehand. Jose's sister came here from Honduras and she needed a place to stay. My husband had her come and stay with us. She was only 19 and had 2 young daughters she had left with her mother in Honduras. We initially got along and she was trying to work construction with my husband, until Jose's other brother and sister-in-law came from New York. Jose's brother and sister-in-law came to stay with us with her 2 children, a boy and a girl; I welcomed them gladly and moved my 2 babies into the bedroom with me and Jose. Then everyone changed. I would come home from work and my brother-in-law and sisters-in-law would have the living room full of people and they would all go upstairs to the bedroom that we had for them to use. It was like I was unwanted in my own home. I started to notice that my children's clothes were on my brother-in-laws step-children. I would go to make dinner for my family and all the pots and pans were dirty with food from an early dinner that my sister-in-law made. The final straw came when I arrived home from work and they, all three, began to yell at me because we had run out of toilet paper. "Excuse me? One of you couldn't go to the store while I was working and buy some? I am not your mother." The insults began. "My brother doesn't care about you. He had a real woman and you broke them up. No one likes you with your blond hair and your money, he only uses you and we all hate you." GREAT! How nice is that? I tried to talk with Jose about the situation and he told me that I was just picking on his family. I was miserable. I just wanted to grab my babies and leave. I didn't really have anywhere to go at the time, but I had good credit and I just wanted out of the hell that was my home life. Mother's day weekend they started treating him the same way. His sister told him he was a horrible person because he didn't buy her a gift for Mother's Day. They had an argument and he told her that he didn't buy anything for his wife either (true), and she was his sister not his mother. She proceeded to tell him that her new sister-in-law had bought her a dress and shoes and that Z (sister-in-law) was now her second mother. Give me a break! This trick was spending all day with a new Mexican boyfriend she had met in our town. I saw her. So did my husband. That Saturday the cable company came to install cable in the room that we had for my brother-in-law and his wife and her two children. The problem was that the service was to be in my name! He finally, saw the light! It sure took him long enough. Then the two new children came.

"911 What is your emergency?"

Well, he was attentive for a while and I thought everything was going to be good again. We moved into my mom's house to save money, in order to purchase a new house. Jose was supposed to be over for dinner at 6pm. He didn't show up and didn't call. I called him at 9pm and I was told by his sister-in-law that he was not home. I was not happy. At 1am there was a knock on the door, I ignored it. Jose came into my bedroom and he smelled of beer, a lot of beer. He tried to kiss and hug me. "Go back to where you just came from, I don't want you here!" I pushed him away and rolled over. HE HIT ME! He didn't slap me he actually punched me. A little background is needed about now, I am a kick boxer. He made a BIG mistake. I rolled away and got off of the bed. I was livid (not to mention that it still stung) and ready to brawl. I followed him down the stairs and he attacked me again, but I was on my feet this time. He punched at me and I ducked, I drove my knee into his ribs while I pulled down on his shoulders. I don't remember everything blow by blow, but needless to say he got what he deserved. He had a bloodied nose, black eye, and 2 cracked ribs. I had a black eye and a bruise on my back. Well, my brother came down at the end of the tussle and grabbed Jose and dropped him six feet off of the porch. He was cussing and calling me names all the way down. My mom called the police and I was checked out and he was charged with assault, but couldn't be found. No surprise there. This was on a Friday; I spent the weekend treating the eye so that I wouldn't have to go to work on Monday with a shiner. I took Monday off and spent the whole day getting a protection order; they advised me at the court house that the order was not in effect until he was actually served. Needless to say he was never found and went to work on Tuesday with enough make-up for 3 hookers. Thankfully, no one noticed. Well, I made it through the day and was relieved when it was time to leave for home. It was a warm day and it lifted my mood considerable. I unlocked my door and Jose was behind me. "I am sorry." "Go away and leave me alone." I stiffened and was ready to protect myself. "Let me talk to you." "No." "Please, I love you and I am sorry." "Go away." I got in my car and started the engine. I tried to shut the door and he grabbed it to stop me. I drove away with the door open and Jose attached. Of course, Jose let go of the door and it shut with a "THUD". I went to pick up the kids at the church childcare center. We talked all the way home about their day and what they wanted for dinner. We settled on potato stroganoff and I took a mental inventory of what I would need and what I had at home. It was a go, I had everything I needed. We didn't discuss the events of the previous Friday, they slept through the commotion and didn't know anything about it and I wanted to keep it that way. They bounced out of car and I gathered their backpacks and my purse and briefcase. Then I saw him, after they did. They were jumping up and down happy to see their "Papi". My blood turned to ice and I felt jittery. What do I do? What do I say? "Come on babies, let's make dinner" "Papi is going to take us to dinner!" my daughter was jumping up and down with glee as only little girls can. "Honey, we can't. Mommy has to call her friend at 9-1-1; Papi has to go see his friend Johnny Law." They were disappointed, but they went into the house. Jose got in his car and left. I called the sheriff's office everyday for three weeks, checking to see if he had been served; he never was. He managed to find me everyday after work and he called my pager constantly. I lost my mind or I am just an idiot, but I did eventually listen to him. His excuse for what happened was that his cousin and uncle had been killed in Honduras and he was drinking and mourning. I never did quite follow how that translated into hitting me, but hey, maybe I am just not supposed to understand. So by this point, we have cheating and physical abuse. Nice. Keep checking back. There is a lot more and it gets worse, much worse.

All hell broke loose

We were doing well and he was the third most important person in my life. I was promoted at work and my family life was stabilizing. I bought a "monster truck" Black Toyota pickup 4X4 with a 7" body lift and huge tires. GREAT TOY!! Then all hell broke loose!! Jose advised me that he needed to break up because he had girlfriend and she was coming from Honduras. I was devastated. Never in a million years did I see that coming. I had asked him if he had a wife, girlfriend, or someone that thought she was his girlfriend in Honduras. He emphatically denied that he had any one of those things. If I had known, we would not have dated at all. I remember how my blood ran cold in my veins and my throat, chest, and stomach all contracted. I couldn't even breathe. Well, I cried a lot, but I stopped all communication and went on with my life. Jose started calling me right away (an hour after he picked her up at the bus station), begging me to talk to him. He even had the balls to tell me to introduce him to any men I wanted to date and he would check them out and give me advice. What an ASSHOLE!!! I told him that it was not necessary and I did not want to have ANYTHING more to do with him. On top of him calling, I was getting regular phone calls from his "friends", telling me how badly they felt about what happened and did I want to go out to eat or go dancing. I couldn't believe it. He was working 2nd shift at an industrial laundry at the time. He started calling me from work and begging to come over and see me. What NERVE!!! Then it really got crazy! He started paging me from his house (yes it was the 90s). He would page me 10 times in a row. I would finally call back and tell him to stop it. He started begging me to talk to him, and then she took the phone from him (she had a knife). Well, he left at that time and drove to my house. She kept calling me back. I finally asked him what she wanted from me. She proceeded to tell me that they were married (lie), that they had a son (lie). She hesitated when I asked what the son's name was!! Then she said "Jose". I replied "nice try". He arrived at my house at that time while she was talking about having a son...he picked up the extension and listened in. She went on and on about how he left her in Honduras to make a new life for them and that the lived together in Tocoa and how they had a son. I told her to keep her nasty dog on a leash, because I was tired of him trying to sniff my crotch. Yes, I said it! Those words exactly. He spoke up and it was a big fight, I hung up the phone. When he hung up on her, I threw him out of my house. That continued for about a month. The daily phone calls, pages, her calling my house, his friends calling me filled my days and evenings. Finally, I left for California to work for a week with my company's office in Los Angeles. I needed the break from the insanity. My children stayed with my mother while I was gone. I thought about the situation and I cried. I stayed in the corporate apartment when I wasn't working. It was lonely and I spoke to my beautiful children every night. I did not contact him and I left my pager back in Nebraska. I didn't even check out the city. The day I came back he showed up on my doorstep at midnight. He begged me for 20 minutes to let him explain what had happened. He started by telling me that she was a girlfriend from Tocoa, but they never lived together, never had children, and they were never very close. He then told me that all of that all of his friends told him that he couldn't trust me because I am American and that we are all "liberated" women (code for slut). I told him how his friends had been calling me and inviting me to dinner. He figured out then that they had a purpose for saying all of this. Well, it turns out she was using him to get to the U.S. While I was gone, he found a name and phone number in her jeans pocket and he called the number. He told the guy on the line that she was his sister and he wanted to know what the guy's intentions were. Turns out, the man was from Mexico and worked with her and she was planning to move in with him. Jose told the guy the truth and when she got home from work was still there (he didn't go into work), they had a huge fight and he gave her 24 hours to leave and he gave her $500.00 and dropped her at the bus station the following day. He went through his story and I listened and then I threw him out of my house. He started getting letters from her shortly thereafter, she told him that she was pregnant with his baby (lie) and living in New York, and later sent him pictures of a baby. She told him that she gave the baby away, because he threw her out. Turns out that in order for the baby to be his it was 3 months early, or she was pregnant when she left Honduras. The truth was NO BABY at all...the pictures were of her cousin's baby. She never left town at all, but moved in with the Mexican guy and his friend. This all took place over the course of six months. He started calling and paging me just like before...everyday. Fortunately, no phone calls from her. That went on for four months; I finally met him after work for dinner. We met for dinner twice a week for a little over 3 months and then I took him back. It was scary, because he had already lied to me once and it had been a BIG ONE.

How the relationship progessed

Well, we went to a dance club the following Friday. He wasn't much of a dancer. The cultural difference was pretty apparent. We continued spending time together, but dancing was out, movies were out (no English), and I didn't want him to meet my children until I was sure that I wanted to continue in a relationship with him. I really did enjoy spending time with him. Jose was attentive and sweet. He experienced a lot of "firsts" with me, (not what you think), he never saw a toaster before, used a microwave, been to a zoo, a mall, sam's club (he really liked that one), or a Menard's (his favorite place to go). My children spent time with their father on the weekend so Jose and I spent time together then. We began a sexual relationship at that time and that may have been my biggest mistake, one that I will never repeat. The first time we had relations, we were at his house and it was a Friday night, mind you we never spent time there before. He rented a basement apartment with another guy from Honduras. They had 2 bedrooms and the house belonged to his brother. I remember that we arrived at the apartment late at night, around 2 am, after going to dinner and walking around the lake and trying the dancing thing again, (same experience). We got into the house and it was dead silent and pitch black. We went downstairs to the basement apartment and he turned on the lights to his room. It looked better in the dark. It was depressing, gross, all concrete, and generally felt like a jail cell. The walls were concrete covered with clothes hanging on hooks. He had a bed, a dresser, and nothing else. Well, we undressed and got into the bed, he turned off the lights. We began kissing and touching, and then he entered me and I was positive that he was using something foreign. I freaked!!! I yelled "TURN THE LIGHTS ON! NOW! TURN THE LIGHTS ON!!". He did. It was just him. I was shocked!. I had no idea this skinny Honduran was packing heat. I don't want to seem crude, but it was the biggest penis that I had ever seen in my whole life. He laughed at the look on my face. I was so embarassed. He turned off the ligths, and we began again. I have to be honest and say that it was the most intense experience of my life. He wasn't worth a damn on the dance floor, but he was good here. We made love three times and the third time it really hurt badly. I started telling him "no mas" (no more), with ever stroke I got louder until I was really yelling with gusto. Well, we slept. The worst was yet to come. In the morning, he went to take me home so that I could handle house before the kids came back on Sunday afternoon. We went back upstairs to leave the house and the living room was FULL of people, about 13, 12 men and 1 pregnant woman. They saw me and started laughing saying "no mas". I could have died of embarassment. They all lived in the house. well, we went on like that and I kept quiet and never quite got over the embarassment (this is his favorite story...he tells EVERYONE about it). We were happy and the relationship was good. After, a year, I decided that I could have the children spend time with him too. He started inviting us over for dinner during the week. He really liked my little boy and little girl. He would call them "Little Price" and "Princess". They started calling him Papi, which I wasn't crazy about. Their own father remarried and stopped spending any time with them. Jose was really great during that time. He spoiled them and treated them like a price and princess. We went on like that for another year. Then all hell broke loose.

The Beginning (continued)

Well, his name was Jose and he was from Tocoa, Colon in Honduras. He had just moved to Nebraska from New Jersey. He just started working as a jackhammer operator for a construction company. He was a little stinky, it was a work day. We talked and he told me my Spanish was very Puerto Rican. I guess it was back then, I did move to Nebraska from Tampa, FL so no big surprise there. The other men left all at the same time (I found out that was the plan) and we moved to the living room and waited for Karla. As it turned out, Karla set it up that way and we never did talk about the wedding again. He asked me out the following Friday and I said yes. I went because I was flattered and I was pretty beat up by the treatment I had received from my ex-husband. Looking back on it, Jose was the rebound guy. Except that it lasted and didn't end. I am writing this blog because I wonder if it should have ended.

I will continue with the whole story and I encourage your opinions and feedback. I just don't know anymore.

The beginning....

I met my husband in the spring of 1995. I had just broken off with my husband of 2 years. Actually, it had been only 6 days, since he told me to take the kids and go he was moving a new woman in. I wish I could communicate the feeling, but I honestly don't remember what it was. I can't even recall why I was upset. My younger sister invited me to go to her friend's house. My sis's friend's name was Karla, and she was marrying her fiance who was "spanish of some kind", and I was invited because I speak Spanish. I never studied the language, I have just always been able to speak it. I really don't know why I just have. Anyway, I digress. We went to the house and Karla was the biggest woman I have ever seen in real life. I believe she wore a size 28-30. That is not to put her down, I was just taken aback at the time. I am a 20 so I am not being negative. Karla was really nice and wanted help with her wedding dress and was on oxygen having a hard time trying to do it herself. We visited with her and helped her a little, she asked us to come back on the following Wednesday, but my sis couldn't go. I went alone. When I arrived, the living room was full of men, maybe 15 guys, all speaking Spanish and staring at me as I entered the house. I asked for Karla, her fiance directed me back to her bedroom. I knocked. "Karla, I am here!" "Hi chica, I am taking a shower! Have a Diet Pepsi from the fridge. I'll be out in a few." she yelled back. I went to the refrigerator and took out a cold diet pepsi. I opened and took a big drink and then a drag off my Marlboro. I felt watched. I looked over toward the door and there was a man staring at me. I felt a current of electricity run through me that I never felt before or after. He was very light. He didn't speak. He just stared. I just stared. Finally, I spoke "Hola". "Hola" he responded. I felt another jolt of electricity. Karla came out of her room.