VANESSA CALUMET
~~arrives home~~
Time seemed to stop. I cried until all of my tears were gone. Did I feel better? No, I actually felt worse.
I left my luggage in my car and slowly walked to the door leading into my custom designed kitchen. Oddly, I remembered to leave my shoes in the adjacent mud room.
I also remembered my mother's response when I told her this area was a 'mud room'. She had shaken her head and wondered aloud why anyone would take the time to officially name any space, a mud room. I carefully explained to her that it was a place to leave anything that you did not want to bring dirt and clutter into the house.
She simply gave me her trademark patient and slightly amused look, before just as carefully stating that it just seemed to be a way to bring the back porch into the house; same concept,,keep the dirty stuff separate from the clean.
With her words in mind, I did not feel that I deserved to enter my home.
My beautiful home that was built with with love and care. This home is a perfect combination of each member of my family. Each person's view and personality can be seen throughout the entire space. Both of our grown children and our grandchildren have permanent rooms in the house. Downsizing has never crossed any of our minds.
This will always be,,,home.
Our home,, that I have defiled.
This cold reality brought me to my knees. As I stretched my prone body on the kitchen floor, I once again thought about dying.
By the time I pulled myself up from the floor, my body was stiff and sore. I left the kitchen and went into the family room. I stopped and looked around the room that was filled with the presence of my beloved family. Every picture, every memento simply added to my pain. My heart was literally filled with burning pain.
I forced myself to run up the stairs; but of course, I could not run away from myself.
Before I opened the door of our suite,, ,, I tried in vain to pray.
I took a deep breath and walked into the room that has always been my safe haven.
A room where our love was free to be expressed in any manner we chose.
A room where our dreams and fears were shared with the trust that comes from genuine unconditional love.
As I struggled to breath, I wondered if this room would soon become my personal hell.
I fell across the bed and cried myself to a fretful sleep.
The loud ring of the land line jarred me awake. It was my mother. I answered with an exaggerated sleep filled voice, and my mother quickly told me to go back to sleep; she was just checking on me.
I decided to call Marcus with that same 'voice', so he would not be worried about me.
It did not escape me that now,,I was concerned about his feelings..
Lord, am I going crazy?? Is that what my mother was trying to tell me??
The next day, Marcus called to tell me that he would be in New York for at least a week longer than expected, and they were unable to come home. I missed my husband deeply, but I saw the longer stay as a blessing directly from God. Whether it was a blessing for Marcus, or me, did not matter right now. The extra time would allow the bite marks to heal. Hopefully.
The next morning, I was surprised to wake up with a uncomfortable burning sensation in and around my vagina. I used a mirror to have a closer look, but other than the now angry looking bruises, I saw nothing else that was odd.
By mid-day, I had a nasty discharge.
I was stunned.
I am 58 years old,,this is just NOT happening to me.
I made a frantic call to my doctor, who is also a close friend. I was literally numb as I took an almost scalding hot bath.
Once again I tried to pray; once again,, it was in vain. Instead, I cried until I reached the parking lot.
Before the examination, I told my friend everything. She tried to comfort me, but to no avail.
I could never have imagined the type of shame I felt as I placed my legs in the stirrups.
After the exam and I was back in the doctor's office, I did my best to make my mind a total blank. There was an on sight lab, and since my friend wanted to get the results quickly, she walked the samples downstairs.
After what seemed like days, my doctor returned.
With a very sad and regretful look, she informed me that as she suspected,,, I have chlamydia.
She also informed me that she was giving me a tetanus shot as a precaution regarding the bite marks.
I was speechless.
She also told me to thank God, because this man was obviously a sick bastard.
He knew I was married, and he chose to 'brand' me in his own special way.
Brand me??
Merciful heaven..
.
She explained that for some men, this is a show of demented power. They choose cruises because the time and space is a pretty much controlled environment. A woman alone is a perfect target; whether she is a willing participant or not.
The fact that she is alone is often a green flag,,,a signal that she just might be vulnerable enough for their,,game.
She finished by saying that my bruises will heal and the STD can be treated.
He just as easily could have drugged, and robbed me and thrown me overboard.
My dear friend cried with me before I left her office.
She insists that I come back to her office next week for a follow-up and to have a long overdue talk about my hormones.
Yes, yes, I know.
I stopped and had the prescription filled; and yes,,,I was embarrassed. I could just imagine the entire staff looking with horror and amusement at the 'elderly' woman with,,,I did not even want to think about the word..
I went home and thought about every choice I had made during the last year of my life.
I no longer had the luxury of tears,or dramatic thoughts of dying; that would be much too easy.
It was time for me to face the person in my mirror.
Finally, after all this time, I was able to get on my knees and,,,,pray.
Chapter 7~ The kids speak
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