Neal grew up in Southern Ontario, he was adopted and had an older adopted sister. His parents provided a nice loving home. His mother was a TV personality in the 1970s with her own yoga TV show while his dad worked in HR at a manufacturing plant. Neall recalled feeling happy until one day his parents divorced. His father had an affair with his assistant and left his current bride, a successful and well-respected Jewish businesswoman for his Catholic assistant. Neall remembers feeling hated and like his new stepmother didn’t want a son. Neall started working at a young age building houses, he learned framing, tiling, caulking, mudding and taught me several of these skills over the course of our short relationship. Neal had been converted from Jewish to Catholic once his father remarried.
Neal was kicked out of his house at age 16 and found a home among skinheads. Neall was a very outgoing person and made friends with several singers of the punk bands I idolized as a kid. Eventually Neall moved on from skinheads after landing an assault charge and made friends with the local biker gang. When his future started to look bleak and his sister moved to Ottawa to attend University, he packed up and did the same. Neall lived in Québec and was bilingual which allowed him to make friends very easily. He was always very popular with the women.
Neall decided to explore the country, eventually left the party scene in Ottawa, and made his way to British Columbia. He was unemployed and on social assistance so he rented a room at the Cecil Hotel. When Neall lived at the Cecil, a popular strip club graced the main floor. Neal remembered cheap food, cheap booze and making plenty of friends. Eventually he befriended an American, Travis and they became best friends. Travis was a Thalidomide baby, born without the lower half of his legs. Travis and Neall watched football together, drank heavily together and discovered cocaine. When Travis moved on to crack, Neall moved back to Ottawa but kept in touch with Travis.
When Neall moved back to Ottawa, he had found a place to stay with his ex-girlfriend’s best friend in Mont Bleu, Québec. Neal and I met just 3 days after he had moved to the area. I enjoyed his company, he was a lot of fun and a breath of honesty. Neall always told it like it was and he didn’t care how you took it. I really respected that; plus he had a great sense of humour. Looking back, he would have made a great best friend or a friend-with-benefits, but desperation on my part, changed all that. Neall and I loved the same music and he introduced me to White Zombie – this band resonated with me on a level that I couldn’t begin to explain. It led to my search for alternative, heavy-metal, heavy bass, creative music. Throughout my relationship with Neall, our breakup and all my life’s ups and downs, White Zombie and Rob Zombie is how I released my rage – dancing, screaming along with the lyrics. The Tea Party saved my life in other ways, by allowing me to connect to calmness I could only achieve while listening and feeling their lyrics; and they were my ‘bedroom’ soundtrack.
Neal and I were instantly drawn to each other, mostly because of the sarcasm; we really enjoyed the banter and really had a lot of fun with it. Neall was really easy going and I could relax quite easily in his company; the copious amounts of alcohol certainly helped. For the first few months of our relationship, all we did was bar hop. We didn’t eat out, he loved my cooking and it never occurred to me to go to a restaurant to eat… I went to drink. After the restaurant/bar, the only acceptable food was street-meat (sausage or hotdog). Neall was my steadfast protector when we were dating; he made me feel safe. When we went out and if men leered at me in a disgusting fashion or grabbed my butt, Neall was in their face before I could even react – he had a very strong sense of… protection, I’ve not experienced that since. He once told me he had been sexually abused as a child so perhaps that is where his strong desire to protect others came from, I could relate because I felt the same.
When Neall and I lived together it was always a party until one day, it struck me that he didn’t seem too motivated to work. His excuse was that he didn’t have any skills and didn’t have any references, and I made our life easy. Let’s face it, I supported us both; but I hadn’t planned on doing so forever, I had thought he would want to contribute and I didn’t understand by he couldn’t just read my mind. Instead, we would argue because I would feel used and taken advantage of. He would work temporary work through an agency for a few weeks then the cycle would repeat. I guess he didn’t take me too seriously.
Over time, he fell deeply in love with me and he thought I had also. On some level, I knew he had, but I had not and then I felt deep shame and humiliation that I made him fall in love with me and could not reciprocate. I feel really guilty that I let him think I felt the same because it was easier for me. However, when we spoke I was clear to remind him, gently of course because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, of the reason we got married to begin with. He really thought we would be together forever. When he mentioned this, I would then always ask when he’d be getting a job and how he planned to afford a house, in my mind establishing that our relationship would not work as is.
Conflicted is a horrible word and doesn’t adequately describe what happened within me over time. I feel like I put the part of me focused on graduating, the girl with one mission and one goal – B.A. Social Science, on the back burner when I was with Neall. The girl who lived in the future, the one who already had a B.A., an excellent secure job, a mortgage, and was established; was playing house in the present and I often was in love with the fantasy – this way of thinking, backwards, is how I survived my childhood and how I was able to live happily in the present. I can see how Neall would assume, think; feel that I was in love with him. I was in love with the idea of being in love and I was all in with the feeling. I think I was also very safe with Neall and that feeling wasn’t one I had ever experienced before.
About 6 months before graduation, my life and situation hit me full on and I realized I had to plan my break-up. Neall and I were arguing more and more frequently and to me, it felt like the relationship was already over. We drank heavily all the time so speaking to one another sober was not ever an option. When we weren’t too drunk I approached the subject of dividing all our belongings in half and packing to move and not renew the lease to the house. Neall apparently had different plans; he wanted to ask the landlord about renting to own our place. Together. Uh oh. I told him that I didn’t see us together in our future and he got incredibly upset. He convinced me we could make it work so I agreed and planned to show him exactly why we didn’t belong together.
He was stubborn and refused to recognize the warning signs. After our argument in December 1997 and he returned home, I had told him to move out of our bedroom and he did. When I returned from visiting my sister, he knew I was serious and that I felt our marriage was over. He was absolutely not willing to give up or let me go. The begging and crying started, he was very adamant that THIS TIME he would get a full time job. Unfortunately, I’m not big on believing what people say, I don’t trust people, I trust and believe in patterns and actions. Given my 3.5 year history with Neall, I knew it was all bullshit. I was also ill equipped to handle any of these conversations, I was never allowed to speak or disagree as a kid and furthermore, had zero idea how to argue, or fight for myself. All I knew 100% is that Neall would never let me go. Ever. In that moment, I realized I would have to leave without telling him. Escape and start a completely new life, again.
I cannot adequately describe how crushed I was. I absolutely loved everything about my life, except my living situation. I liked my job, I loved the city, I loved the smell of the Town in the morning, the stillness of the market early in the summer… all of it. Leaving Ottawa, to this day, is the biggest heartbreak I have ever experienced and one I’ve never grieved until recently. I left on January 5, 1998 and I really did not look back.
My mother paid for my attorney so I could file for divorce once I moved in with my sister. Neall called a few days later to say he was sorry and that I didn’t HAVE to move 5 hours away, I could have stayed locally and he would have given me the space I clearly needed. He thanked me for the cash I left him, the rent and utilities I had pre-paid and I made sure to tell him he was on his own March 1. Once the divorce papers were final, about 6 months later and Neall was served, he refused to sign them. I was over the moon that I had moved away; I was right, he wouldn’t have let me go.
One year, out of the blue, he called me to say he wanted to get divorced and would I sign the papers? Of course I would! I asked him why he changed his mind and he said he had met a girl and she didn't like that he was still married. I said I would absolutely sign and to send them my way. We signed in March 1999 and the divorce was official April 20, 1999. I had technically been married for 5.5 years. I wished Neall all the happiness. They eventually broke up.
In mid to late 2000 he called to tell me he was actually getting married! He had vowed never to remarry after we divorced because he wasn't able to hold a relationship on account of his ex-wife being on a pedestal. He had met a nurse a few months prior and he decided to take the plunge. I was so happy for him and and he sent me pictures of him and his bride during their honeymoon in Jamaica.
He called me 2 months later to say his marriage was over. When I asked him why, he said no one could ever replace me. She couldn’t make any of his favourite meals, he didn’t like her cooking, she didn't know how to clean or keep a tidy house; she wasn’t smart, and essentially, she wasn’t ME. I can honestly say, I had not expected this. He actually told me I had ruined him for other women permanently, he was still and always would be in love with me. I don’t think I believed him.
At the end of February 2018, I received a phone call via Facebook messenger. I won’t lie, I let it ring a long time as I debated whether to answer or not; I’m glad I answered.
In early March 2018, he called me again:
Then he hung up.
He died March 23, 2018 age 47, alone in Calgary.
Prologue : Family
Chapter 1: The Early Years
Chapter 2: Protector: 1979-1981
Chapter 3: Pre-Teen Years 1981-1987
Chapter 4: Teen Years: 1987-1993
Comments
Post a Comment
Thank you!