I left work early, grabbed my cell phone from the apartment on the way back (made sure his car wasn't in the lot, he had put the phone back exactly where I keep it), ran out to get a deadbolt, hurried back and installed it.
I forgot how much I hate installing deadbolts. If you don't screw them on tightly enough they fall off, if you don't get the screws exactly in the holes it won't work, and if you do everything perfect and screw it on as tight as possible you can't turn the key. I had to scavenge parts from the new and the old one because the hole in the door is non-standard, but it works, it's got a new key, and it looks identical on the outside to the old one. It's also a new brand, so no chance that I snagged one that used the same key as the old one. Still no sign of G, and now I'm home safe and locked in.
We have these Bubba Burgers in the freezer. G bought them for special occasions, but they've been there for about six months. I ate two, didn't set the fire alarm off, and enjoyed every second of them. (White toast actually tastes better than most non-gourmet hamburger buns).
Looked up the local police number, programmed all their numbers and the psychologist into my phone, and cleaned up the house.
He had actually cleaned most of it before leaving for work that day. He'd removed most of the Christmas things and half his clothing (no surprise there - he told me he removed all of it, with the help of all the neighbors, and I was nowhere to be found). There were three piles of things spread around the apartment, which I cleaned up as well. He added a lot of things to my pile of donation objects for the local charity, so I guess he made a donation. He put the contents of the dining room table under the kitchen table, so I fished them out and put them back. And he had packed the entire hamper, including my clothes, into plastic bags and shoved them under the sink (including some of his clean clothes from the closet) so I'm doing laundry this morning before I take my shower.
This morning the house smells like really good hamburger, the temperature is exactly how I like it, the sink is full of dirty dishes (I always wanted to do that), and I am getting the final things in order before my shower.
Only three broken things. An over the door hook is bent completely out of shape, but he balanced the ironing board carefully on the remaining one. One of the bedroom chairs has another giant crack, but it matches all the others that were already there so I'll pull out the cherry pencil again. He also punched through the glass in the side table in the dining room, but it was held in by plastic hooks which broke first, so another trip to the hardware store will fix that one easily. (Hooray for "engineered failure" - I'll get plastic ones again).
I called G's cell phone and left him a voicemail with the requirements before I'll be around him again, and got a call back that proved he had actually tried to follow through. I gave him the psychologist's cell phone, told him the times he said he'd be unavailable, and fended off an attempt by G to get me to go along by revealing that I went yesterday. I told him not to think what I was doing was easy, because I did still love him, but because I love him I was sticking to my ground and I wasn't going to roll over this time - he needs help and I can't be the one to give it to him because he's no longer listening to me, he's killing me little by little each time he drinks. He tried to turn it back into my fault by talking about how he got divorced from his first wife over her father (verified true - his ex stole all G's savings and borrowed more in G's name to feed her father's gambling problem, she told me herself) and now it's happening with me (false).
I hung up on him then, and he called back moments later. I answered, and it was angry/vicious/vindictive G on the phone with his creepy slithering voice and I could just picture the slitted eyes and the way his face was getting red. The pause between calls was just long enough for him to polish off whatever whiskey he had smuggled into his room at his mother's last night. I will avoid talking to him until this afternoon.
If he wants to talk things through, I'm welcome to it, I am. I know he's scared and lonely and taking it out on me, and if he wants a kind voice on the phone and doesn't want to try and take advantage of me I'll talk to him and encourage him to do the right thing, but as soon as he starts blaming it on me I'm hanging up because I have better things to do.
I am hanging in there, doing well, and actually breathing freely for the first time in a long time. I am looking forward to making Pecan Pie today (for G's sister's tomorrow, we have all the ingredients, and I wanted to try the recipe) and I'll figure out some way to drop that off at his mother's with G's checkbook (he left that behind) while he's not there. His mother will be upset, but will calm down if I explain to her I'm following the psychologist's advice, and that the psychologist is a close friend of G's (I can see why G likes this guy, he is the best, and he doesn't confuse loyalty with the "right thing to do").
Thank you for all your well wishes. I'm sorry for the giant posts, I actually rewrote this to make it smaller, I just don't have anyone to talk to right now who will understand except for you guys - it means a lot to me.