He was positive that he had his
next wife in the palm of his hand and threw it in my face how much better she
was than I was, in every possible way …
He wasn’t INFJ.
I was.
So, although he virulently (and
violently) hated me, and she despised me, I told him the truth.
Come to think of it, maybe it was
because I was so hated and despised that I told him the truth.
‘She doesn’t want to marry you. She
just wants a playmate for a while. You’re married and she knows it. You’re
cheating on your wife with her and she knows that too. She won’t marry you.’
He argued, of course.
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could.
‘There’s only one way to find
out.’
The rest of my life depended on
his response. If he believed the truth and didn’t divorce me so that he’d be
free to marry her, to prove to her that he loved her more than he did me and
our daughters and was serious about marrying her, my life might be short
indeed. He’d already almost killed me more than once.
If he refused the truth, he might
still kill me but I’d at least have a chance to be free for a while first. I could
take the girls and run for it if he divorced me.
So … angry, sure I was lying in
order to hurt him, off he went to file for divorce.
It didn’t take long. We didn’t
have much of anything to speak of, I had things lined up for my return to
college, and about the time the divorce came through so did the clearance for
me and the girls to move into family housing on campus.
We had tried this route twice
before.
Once the girls went with me for a
summer school session and stayed part of that summer with me in my dorm, part
of it with his family until I went and got them and kept them with me on
campus.
The second time we had gotten an
apartment off campus and for the first time I took out student loans as there
was no way he was going to help in any way. That was the time I got myself into
counseling, was reassured that indeed I was NOT the crazy woman he’d constantly
drilled into my head that I was, and found encouragement in a support group for
battered women.
Yeh.
That backfired in a big way when
one of our group was murdered, along with her children, by her abuser. We knew
where he was, as opposed to never being altogether sure where any of the rest
of our men were at any given time. He was in jail; she was the only one of all
of us who walked free and confident.
That was before we got some laws
changed.
They never notified her when they
turned him loose.
Convinced that I would be safer
knowing where mine was than never being sure he wouldn’t sneak up on me and the
girls and do the same, I went back to him. Again. At least I would know where
he was.
So back I went.
Things had changed.
He told me when he found out I was
right about his girlfriend. Right all the way down the line. Right all along.
He wanted us to use our divorce
as a starting over point and I encouraged him to believe that it could be
exactly that for us.
I did not tell him that this
starting over point would be where our paths diverged and we would be starting
over in different directions.
This time I had help.
This time I had a long term plan.
This time I had some community
support.
This time when I left to go back
to school, I wasn’t coming back.
Ever.
Not that I told him that.
Better safe than sorry.
Let him be on his best behavior
while he tried to woo me back.
When he decided to leave the
career that had gotten him nowhere, and the town that had not given him his
proper due (especially when the truth finally came out) the girls and I had
already found Steve and moved halfway across the country.
When he was on his way to pick up
the girls for a visit I notified my local sheriff and was told to shoot him if
he came to my door. Appalled, I said I couldn’t do that. ‘Well then, throw
rocks at him before he gets to the door.’
He was afraid of the mountains,
something deep and visceral in him was truly terrified of the mountains. At ten
thousand feet up I was as safe from him as I could get.
For his part, he chose my go-to
place, the college town I’d returned to in every emergency of my life, to resettle
himself with the trophy bride who remained married to him just long enough for
him to pay for her advanced education and to be able to take him for all he was
worth when she left with someone her own age.
There is, of course, much more to
this story than I’m putting down here. Perhaps one day I will tell the rest of
the story but for the moment this will have to suffice.
My points here are several.
First, if an INFJ tells you a
truth about someone, believe them even if you are convinced otherwise.
Second, when you need to do
something you have to use all of the resources at your disposal, including your
instincts. And subterfuge if need be.
Third, if laws need changing you
have to do your bit to get them changed.
Fourth, believe this: ‘Vengeance
is Mine saith the Lord.’ Call it karma if you want. Call it the Universe
restoring Balance. Regardless of what label you choose, do your bit and then just
step back.
