The Marriage--Part One

I've never been an advocate for divorce, though I'm sure no newly married couple anticipates anything other than death doing them part. I've always been aware that there's a great deal of give-and-take in a relationship. All avenues should be taken to preserve a marriage, though it seems that the scary statistics indicate it is a natural phenomenon in our day. I don't want to be one of those statistics, but I'm at wit's end.

In the three years we've been married, I've been lied to, lied to, lied to, oh, and cheated on. It started before we were married, so I have to take responsibility for the fact that I was at least aware of the history of my husband's lying.

I first found out several things at once in August of 2001.

My father had invited Steve to live with us in March of that year though I really didn't like the idea. Dad had a bad accident that caused him to be off work for several weeks and during that time he and my future husband grew close. Steve would bring dad meals, pick up medicine, and just be there to talk to him while he was stuck at home for days on end. Dad's then-girlfriend, who lived half an hour away, was constantly fabricating excuses for why she couldn't come over, so dad appreciated Steve's companionship while I was at work and school.

One afternoon in April, Steve came home from work crying and said that he needed $3,000 by the next day or his wages would be garnished and he'd possibly go to jail. He said that he still owed money from his divorce that had been over for a year. He didn't want to ask me for the money, but nonetheless, he did and of course promised to pay it back. I talked to my dad about it because it seemed like a HUGE no-no, as I've always been cautious with my finances. Dad encouraged me to do it, and so the next day, I went to the bank and took out $3,000 (I didn't have) from my credit cards.

He paid me back a portion each week, so in July we went to Florida on vacation. While we were there, he proposed to me. The whole time, I still just wanted to back out, run the other way because I just KNEW in my heart he wasn't for me. I'd always expected a dramatic scene where a man was down on his knees with that glimmer of admiration in his eyes as he popped the question...No, it went like this: We come in from swimming at the beach all day, he walks to the bureau in our hotel room, pulls out the box, hands the entire box to me, and says, "I want you to have this." I looked at him and said, "But this looks like an engagement ring..." and he replies, "Yeah, you wanna get married?"

I accepted because I thought maybe my expectations were melodramatic, but I had to admit I was disappointed that we didn't even look at rings together. We'd talked about marriage a bit, but not really rings. His friend, Alan, had a ring that he kept trying to sell to Steve to give to me, but Steve always boasted, "Hell no I don't want that thing! I'm picking out a beautiful ring for her myself!"

So when we came home from vacation, dad was back to work and his girlfriend had decided to start coming around again. Not only that, she decided to move herself in. She started bitching about petty things, such as the fact her bedroom was too close to the washer and dryer and she didn't like me doing laundry when I did. Hell, I was working 3 jobs, had my own cosmetic business, and was going to college full-time, so I had to do laundry whenever I found a moment to breathe! And dad had just built our home himself, so it wasn't like we were living in a small structure where noise was an issue.

But anyway. Dad decided Steve and I needed to get out. I was totally against living together before marriage, but we found ourselves desperate to find a place. The first week in August, we moved into a duplex that we could afford and still be fairly comfortable. The second week, Steve had to go to San Francisco on a job assignment. The foreign exchange student, a dear friend of mine from high school, was in town that week, so I had her to come over and stay with me a couple of days. We were still in the process of putting things away, so Kati helped me. She handed me a suitcase and said, "I think this one is empty." I decided to take a look anyway, and what I found made my heart sink.

There was a letter written by Steve to his employer, claiming he had to miss work because his father had just died and his mother was on the verge of suicide. He said he had just gotten back from the airport from picking up his aunt who was coming to stay with him. The letter was dated just a few months prior. None of it was true.

I had to investigate because my senses were on overload. I started to piece together the exaggeration of stories and I just knew there must have been more lies. I started with the ring. That night, I had Alan over to the house and I cornered him. After much, much prying, I found out the ring had been his after all. And Steve never paid for it. The most disturbing part is that I had actually asked Steve if it had been Alan's ring, and he got incredibly defensive, insisting that it was not the same ring.

The next day, I went to Steve's parents and told them I needed to talk to them. I told them what I had discovered and they just sighed. When my dad had asked Steve to move in, it was because Steve had given him a huge story about how his dad went through his wallet and stole money and didn't want him to live at home. I found out this, too, was all a lie. Furthermore, they said I'd never see the money Steve had borrowed from me because he had a history of borrowing money and never paying it back.

I was a mess, as one would be when they discover they are in a trap with no place to go. So I went home, called up ten friends--which turned into about twenty, threw a party and got drunk off my ass. Around 4am, Steve came home. Everyone split, but I just sat there, looking straight ahead and waiting for an explanation. He was still denying the things I found out--even though I had proof--and I finally just told him I didn't want the bull shit, we were DONE.

He started crying, and after talking for three hours, he said he needed to get to a church. He was through with the lying and he had to request forgiveness at an altar. So we called his parents and followed them to their church where we prayed with Steve. It was one of the weirdest experiences of my life at that time. Afterwards, we took him to a counselor that was covered by his dad's insurance. But we found out only one session would be provided, so Steve agreed to find another counselor.

I went to a second counselor with him. The guy wasn't very helpful, but rather negative through the entire session. We went back a few more times and then the guy admitted he couldn't really do anything else for us because he was mainly a "financial" counselor, even though he was a pastor.

So I took for Steve's word that he was "better." I still didn't really want to be with him, but where was I going to go? So I gritted my teeth and tried to have utmost faith in him. We also started attending the church across the street from our house. I still caught him in inexplicable situations, but he always managed to come up with stellar excuses. Things seemed to get better for the next year, so we decided to get married in August, 2002.