I turned on the radio and he immediately leaned over, grabbed my arm, and screamed, “I told you I need everything to be quiet,” and then proceeded to dent every inch of my dashboard with his fists and shatter my radio into a hundred pieces.
The rage inside of him utterly paralyzed me. We proceeded to drive home in silence. We walked into the house, and he told me to sit down on the couch. He closed all the blinds and taped a piece of paper over the peephole on the front door. He then proceeded to open all the bedroom doors, closets, and cupboards and then asked if there was anybody on the balcony. He was completely coming undone. I froze in fear. He continued to hysterically pace around the house for the next two hours and forced me to sit on the couch. I told him I needed to get ready for work, as I needed to go into the office that day rather than work remotely. He said he would drive me there and then come pick me up. I did not like the idea of him having my vehicle, but I was scared to tell him no. He called non-stop the entire time that I was at work. I finally just told him to come get me. He was still wearing the same clothes and had not showered but was calmer; he was exhausted.
When we got home, I looked at Romeo and said, “So this is what a relapse is like, huh?” He said he had used something other than cocaine and that he gotten some dirty shit that really fucked him up. I told him I was not going to live like this and that he either needed to get into treatment or he needed to go. He said he did not need treatment; he just needed to sleep it off for a few days. I did not push it further. He was home safe and needed sleep, and so did I. I woke him up a couple of times over the next two days because I assumed he had homeowners to call about jobs since he had not been to work in a week. I could not get him to do anything or really even wake up completely. On the third day, he got up and we talked. He was soft and gentle as he began to inform me of who I had actually been dating this whole time.
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