Then I met Dakota. I had seen him a few times with Patrick but never really knew him. But, he messaged me and asked for a sack of weed and I had my mom pull up to his apartment to sell it to him. He was handsome in every way, unique features and a seriousness about him. It was a quick exchange but I gave him an assessment.
He started to read my book and would tell me his opinion on it. He took the time to actually get to know me and took an interest in my past. That intrigued me.
He seemed shy at first, unsure of himself around me. But, he was sweet as a button. We’d have sex, cuddle, take naps together and just bask in each other’s company. We seemed to make a good team too, like when we’d have to clean the house or go somewhere.
I started to fall for him faster then intended. I started hanging out with him in July and by the time September rolled around I was sure I wanted to invest my full time and energy into him. So after a passionate sexual encounter I summoned up the courage to ask him to be my boyfriend.
Not but a short week or two later I’d be packing my bags and moving in with him.
It was nice. He had a few roommates that we’d kick it with and vibe with and we kept up with the momentum a relationship should go in. I was starting to become extremely happy.
But, the thing is Chris JUST died. I’d think about him often and I’d start to feel a type of way the closer I got to Dakota. I felt guilty, I felt like I was betraying him. I cried every single day still and that amount of competition I made Dakota feel he had wasn’t right. He deserved to have me in my entirety and not have to compete with my love for a dead man. But, I was still greiving and I would be for a while.
As I was getting to know Dakota and try for a new love things at his apartment were starting to get hairy and things back at his home were too so Dakota decided it would be in his best interest to move back home to Missouri and he asked if I’d come along.
Without hesitation I accepted. It was right before Thanksgiving when we had decided to leave. We had a last minute Friendsgiving at his apartment then I left with my mother for a cabin out in Georgia before we left. I met up with dakota, having all 3 dogs with him in his trusty Buick Century loaded to the hilt in Lake City and we drove to my dad’s place to sleep so we could wake up super early to drive and see the ocean before leaving Florida.
We drove to St. Augustine around 4 am, we parked at a nice hotel and walked to the beach before the sun rose. The ocean waves crashed loudly at the shore. It was dark and vast. Visibility was scarce and unfortunately we left before the sun rose but I’ll always remember that night.
We drove all day the next day and got a motel in Mississippi and spent the night having amazing sex and talking about the future. The next day we drove some more and ended up getting another motel and doing the same thing. We got to his grandmother’s house in Conway, MO the night before Thanksgiving.
His family welcomed me like I was a part of the family. We roughed it between his grandma’s and his dads, who lived just up the road. It was cold, it was beautiful. The roads out there were hilly and windy and the speed limit was high. It was very rural and swcluded. Even the city of Springfield was small.
Eventually we were staying exclusively at his grandma’s house and we moved into the basement for more room and privacy. We had his son every other week but things weren’t going so hot.
But, things started to change in Dakota not long after arriving. He was starting to change. It was like I moved to Missouri with a completely different man. He saw red so often and would go off with anger and agitation. He would talk to his grandmother shamefully and he never seemed to be happy unless we were out and about doing something. He would blame his mood on his family because admittedly they were very invasive and borderline controlling in a very nonchalant and sneaky way. But, I don’t think that it should cause anyone to react the way that he did.
Some time in December I ran out of my mental health meditation. When this happens I fall into a depressive state and a state of fear, confusion, greif and disbelief of where I was and who i was with in life.
Dakota and I got into a fight about something, I honestly can’t even remember. It may have been my fault, maybe not. Doesn’t matter. It led to us screaming at one another in the stairway of the basement until I smacked him across the face because he was being disrespectful. Next thing I know I’m downstairs in the walkway by the stairs on my knees and sobbing that I missed Chris and I missed my mom and I wanted to go while experiencing an intense panic attack. Dakota holding me on the floor.
I say something that either hurt him or pissed him off and he runs back upstairs. I walk over to our living room and flip over our coffee table, stuff flying everywhere. Without a thought in my head, without reason or means I glance down and see a piece of broken porcelain from one of his ashtrays. I pick it up and just slash my arm completely open.
Realizing what I had just done and seeing the meat of my arm open up and squirting blood all over the room I come to my senses. I screamed for Dakota and he came running down.
He was fucking livid. He was pissed, irritated and halfway freaking out. But, he refused to take me to a hospital. Me sobbing on the floor and holding my arm he runs upstairs and grab some supplies and making sure I don’t bleed out he bandages me up.
I’m pretty sure i traumatized him that night. I traumatized myself and he had to witness it all. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be alone in a dark room with a comfy bed and I wanted to pretend I wasn’t on this planet anymore. But, being somewhere where I knew no one but Dakota and his family I felt lost, like I put myself in my own prison.
Dakota put his foot down about my mental health after that day. He wanted me to take my medicine every day and he drove me to the hospital the very next day to get them. I waited too long to get my arm stitched up, though so now I bear a horrible scar on my forearm. WI now live with one of the most gnarliest scars on my arm because of it.
I got enrolled at a mental health clinic in Springfield shortly afterwards and I had a good psychiatrist that I would see who actually fixed my prescriptions and got me on something better.
It took me a while to find a job. In January I found a telemarketing job in Springfield, but I quickly replaced it with a solid job at the local Walmart in Marshfield, which is the closest “big town” to where we were living.
I was doing really well actually. But, I was only taking my medication semi-regularly and every single time I’d forget to take them a day or two Dakota and I would fight over some bullshit. Usually, it would be about how I was acting or something I said but I’d never know what he was talking about because I was still being the same old me and he’d just get so mad over nothing or something small.
It got to the point where I’d cry on a regular basis. I’d be walking on my tip toes around him and watching everything I said. Too scared to start something. Nothing worked though.
We went through so many ups and downs. He’d be sweet and we’d get along great one week and then I’d forget to take my meds and we’d fight and break up then get back together again and repeat the cycle and I’m not going to lie, it was exhausting.
Then there was the episode that changed my entire view of Dakota.
Allie Willey 