Dave got off the Greyhound bus, then he called me…
He explained that he began having a breakdown and was acting crazy, demanding that the driver pull over, let him off and allow him to get his bags from underneath the bus.
It wasn’t a little white lie that landed him on that bus. He apparently had less shame than I would have ever imagined. Honestly, how does one come back from a lie like that?
Seriously, how does one come back from that?
I suppose that if you have spent your life telling lies and doing shameful actions, the embarrassment factor can be reduced. That’s the only way I can explain it. Dave proceeded to tell his aunt in New York about the lie. Conveniently enough, his aunt’s fiancé’s cousin (!) lived in Fort Myers, which happened to be where I lived for a brief period of time after my separation. Dee, Dave’s aunt’s fiancé’s cousin, has now been told everything as well.
Okay, there are too many details to go through. I’m going to truncate this portion. Over the next couple months, I bought Dave a car and he lived at Dee’s apartment, worked at Macy’s selling shoes, got let go from Macy’s, lots of fun stuff.
Dave made sure to maintain close enough contact with me so that he didn’t lose his grip. This of course caused issue between me and my parents. The house I lived in was next door to, and owned by, my parents. Somehow he tightened his grip enough to get me away from my parents and into a house in Cape Coral that we rented. That move was in February, 2010. Life was fairly uneventful for a while, though not completely.
The next year, Dave continued to dig his claws in deeper. He did get another job, but was fired for tardiness. Got a third and fourth job, got fired again for tardiness, or maybe it was attitude… This went on in a cyclical pattern. Whenever the state of New York found where he was working and started garnishing his checks, he no longer desired to be there on time to keep that job and would subsequently get fired.
In early February of 2011 I’d had enough. I had developed enough animosity that I could no longer have him in my life. I told him I wouldn’t be celebrating Valentine’s Day and that he needed to find a new place to live. On February 28, 2011, Dave moved out of my home for the second time in less than two years. He moved in with our next door neighbors… the stalking began 😳