I have been wondering how to write about this entry for the longest time. I have often put it off because I didn’t want to look stupid. But I know now that this is something that I need to talk about.

 I think I mentioned in my last entry that it is over between me and the man that I moved to New York to be with. I was hoping to have the happily ever after that most of my friends seem to have. Instead it turned out to be an episode from Jerry Springer. Honestly, it was even worse, it was a nightmare or even worse....HELL.

When I first moved to New York to be with him, I was happy. No more having to worry about disclosing my status or worrying about being rejected because of it. I had a ready made family, his daughter and his grand daughter. No problems there, we got a long just fine. I was even enjoying playing the role of being the step-grandmother.

We would do things together like most couples. But a month later things started to change. He started becoming jealous for no reason. He knew that I didn’t know anyone else in New York. Or even how to get around on my own. It didn’t matter, I was often accused of cheating on him with men online. Not just any men or dating sites but men I had made friends with in the Poz forums. I tried to explain that the forums is where I would get my support. And the men he was accusing me of cheating on him with were GAY men. No matter how many times I tried to explain this to him, it always ended up leading to an argument.

Or it would just come down to him picking a fight for no reason. It didn’t matter where we were. Most of the time, we were out in public. He didn’t seem to care that it embarrassed me. It got to the point that I didn’t even want to go anywhere with him. But even with staying home, the fights just got worse. The fights started becoming physical. The end result being I ended up with a fractured wrist. Even then I tried to be the bigger person and move past it. There was no moving past it. I just got tired of the fighting, tired of always having to explain myself, and tired of being told "I can get the fuck out of his house". I knew then things were not going to get any better, so I left. Which meant that I was now in a big city all alone, homeless.

I ended up in a women’s shelter in Brooklyn. Not the greatest of places, it reminded me of a jail but at least I was away from the violence. I wanted to ensure my safety so I went and filed an order of protection against him. I was wrong, it didn’t make me safer..It made me more of a victim to his abuse. He knew where I was because the order had the shelter’s address on it. The next thing I knew, I was getting text messages from him. The messages saying that he was a Latin King and he would kill me. And if my son ever came to New York, he would kill him too. I was now scared but also pissed off. Pissed off because this man had the nerve to threaten my son. My son who had no idea at the time what was going on.

I saved the threatening text messages and called the police. A report was filed and the case assigned to a detective. I met with the detective, we talked. He told me what my options were. I had him arrested in December. It was only for 24 hours. I was hoping it would let him see just how serious I was about not wanting anything to do with him. All it did was piss him off even more.

The next thing I knew, I was now being served by the police with papers to appear in court. He lied, flipped everything around saying that I threatened his life. And with those lies,A the court granted him an order of protection against me. This time the man manipulated the courts to victimize me. The horror of it all is that he was able to get away with it.

And all I ever wanted from the very beginning of it all, was my own Happily Ever After.... I haven’t given up hope. I will still have it. I refuse to give him the power to take that away from me.