Hiding things...

I never thought I'd be in a relationship where I would hide things. I never had to before. In fact, I've always been rather an open book, speaking my mind and living my life more openly than privately. So it amazes me in the time I've been with Derek, the things I've learned to hide, just to avoid the extra battering I would receive otherwise. Of course there are the big things, like my true feelings about him now, and my plans to end this situation, but I'm actually talking about the little things; things so inconsequential that it's ludicrous they should be the subject of debate. But -- as anyone married to a control-freak knows, control isn't about some things, it's about EVERYTHING. For example, after I drop my son at school, I typically get a soda at Subway on the way home. A Diet Coke. It's a small pleasure in my day and yes I know it's not good for me but so what, geez. In the beginning, I threw my empty soda cup in the kitchen garbage, as you think is the normal thing to do. But when Derek comes home, he conducts an inspection of the house: walking around slowly, looking for anything out of place: a hair on the floor, a throw pillow straightened incorrectly, the tv remote at the wrong angle from the way he left it -- a hundred little things, and no matter how many I memorize, he finds more to keep me on my toes. So that first morning long ago when I learned just how ridiculous it had gotten, Derek came home and threw something in the kitchen garbage under the sink. For the record I'd like to say that I don't know what it was because I DON'T CARE. I'm normal, you see. So Derek threw this whatever-it-was into the bin and slammed the cabinet closed with a crash. "My God," he said, "So THAT'S where all the money goes, is that it?! Hmmm??!!!" I looked up from my laundry folding to see what on earth he's on about this time. "You are really something," he starts in, "Unbelievable. Ha. Some piece of work, you are. What a spoiled, selfish person. What a clueless, spoiled, little bitch." Of course it was after several more minutes of this before I learned that my crime was purchasing a Diet Coke and the evidence was the cup in the trash. So now, as ridiculous as it is, I drink the Diet Coke on the way home, I slow down prior to getting there and toss the ice out of the window, and then I stop at a public bin near the house and stash the cup. Yep. That's what I do. Really. The same procedure is done for many other little things as well, like the occasional cookie I buy from Subway, or a dvd on sale for Dillon -- that gets hidden in the closet. It's amazing how many things I hide as a matter of course now. Derek's anger and house of regulations has me jumping through hoops to keep one step ahead. And that's the point -- I'm STILL never one step ahead. He will always find the one thing that I did not hide, did not clean, did not do properly, or whatever. I have to go now. I've finished my soda. And I see a nice anonymous bin I can throw it in. Should be safe. Whew! Until next time, dear friend...