January 16th E-mail to Ashley

i posted this on my blog, then i reconsidered. heather thinks i'm an idiot for even considering staying with the lying snake. i agree. i am a complete idiot. doesn't mean i won't go right back for more, though.

i just looked in my junk mail and realized you've been writing to me. sorry i didn't respond! i will try to move your name over so it doesn't kick your mail there. love, kat

I'm very confused. I'm a little angry, a little broken-hearted, and very confused. You see, I promised myself that after I moved to California I would find a great job, be successful, be independent, get gorgeous, and find a great guy that deserves me. My new year'sresolutions were to quit smoking and lose 10 pounds, both of which I've nearly accomplished, but my life goals of last summer seem to have crashed and burned. I'm sick of being upbeat on this blog. Sometimes I try to paper-over the hurt and betrayal I feel, but this time I'm not. It's just not worth it, and it doesn't make me feel any better. So get ready. Here comes the cold, hard truth. The Italian guy is married. Married. Fucking MARRIED with a GOD-DAMNED FUCKWIT WIFE. And do you know how I found out? I was sleeping over at "our" new apartment. It's in a quiet little neighborhood in Santa Barbara. There are pretty, leafy trees. We have a large bathroom with a long bathtub that I like to lay in for hours. We have carefully-chosen prints, photographs, and art on the walls. I even brought my beloved Oneida over and I bought a Crock-Pot. I bought him 12 Christmas presents,each one something different for our new place (that we moved into on December 27). As I said, I was sleeping there. In that lovely apartment that he chose and paid for with his flush bank account. It was about 8 o'clock on Saturday morning, and the doorbell rang. I thought about getting the door, but I didn't have my robe in the bedroom so I nudged him and asked him to answer the door. He immediately got up and went to answer it. I figured that UPS or FedEx was delivering something we ordered off of ebay. I was laying there happily, wondering what size box he would bring back to the room to open. A couple of minutes passed, andthen suddenly I heard a woman yelling. Yelling at me."Helloooo! Helloooo! I'm Orazio's WIFE!" Holy fucking shit. I didn't know what to think. It sounded like she was IN the apartment. I was naked, so all I could do was stay there with the cover over me. I wondered if it was his ex-wife, you know, the one he supposedly divorced 3 years ago. Then I wondered if it was a lady friend from work or something, dropping by and then playing a joke on him. I realized it wasn't a joke pretty quickly. I dragged the covers off the bed, toward the bathroom, and put my robe on. Then I went into the living room. I could hear every word she said as clear as a bell."There's a woman in there, I know it. If there wasn't a woman in there you would let me in!" "God DAMN you, Orazio, YOU SAID YOU Would LOVE me FOREVER!!!" Needless to say, my heart was racing. I didn't know if she was insane,in denial, or simply telling the truth. I went toward the window of the living room. I couldn't see anything out of the window without moving the blinds a lot, so I went toward the kitchen. She started screaming about how she was going to sue him for her money. She asked him, "Does she do your drugs with you?" I could hear distinct smacks. When I moved the blind up a little bit, I could see her taking as many hard slaps as she could get. Slapping him across his face, screaming at him. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Orazio is big, and she was standing at the top of a staircase. This was the posture of a woman who knew she had a man's balls in a vice. He didn't raise an arm. He was very, very quietly talking to her. I couldn't hear a damn thing. I couldn't handle it anymore. I walked toward the bathroom, still hearing her every word and every slap. Finally, it stopped and Orazio came back inside the house. I was standing in the bathroom, my leg shaking like it does when I'm very frightened. Last time it did that was when I was introducing a Nobel Prize winning physicist to a chapel filled with about 400 people. Orazio sat down on the sofa. I slowly knelt down beside him. "Was that your ex-wife? Why was she screaming at you?" His head jerked up,"She's insane!" I laughed a little. "What happened to your shirt? I thought you were wearing one."

"She ripped it off of me in the final rage." My mouth fell open. Unbelieveable. Her name is Christy, he married her in 1997, and she lives in SB. She came to the apartment at 8 in the morning, on the pretext of giving him a present, and he wouldn't let her in the apartment. She got angry because she was convinced there was a woman inside. She flew into a rage and took out most of her frustration on his face and chest. She belted him a few good ones, I'm witness to that. A little time passed and Orazio was clearly in shock. He kept asking himself why he opened the door. He wanted to lay down in the bedroom. I couldn't help buy pry him with questions. Finally, I asked him if the divorce was final. No. Involuntarily, I shrank back. I felt likeI'd been kicked in the stomach. What? You are still married?

"Yes," he said. "I told you that before." Well, I know for DAMN sure he never told me that before. I would have fucking remembered that I was aiding someone in commiting ADULTERY. I got my clothes and started getting dressed in the living room. He came in to ask me what I was doing. I told him, "I'm just getting dressed."

He looked at me, hurt, and said, "Are you leaving me because of this?"

"Well, O, you're still married and you never told me about it. We've been together and you've been keeping a pretty big secret from me, so I need to go home and think about it." I wasn't really angry yet. I was more surprised than anything. I felt like a fool, that is for sure, but the severity, the weight, the fucking MAGNITUDE of this hadn't hit me full-force yet. After a few hours of trying to cheer him up, eating some soup, packing, and digesting the events of the morning, I drove home at the same time he left for work that afternoon. The whole drive home I let it sink in. I started to pity myself, that is for sure. Then I started to beat myself up pretty badly. How could I be such an idiot and let someone con me so well? Am I really that stupid, or did I trick myself into believing that he was already long-divorced and unattached? There is a lot more to this story, but I'm exhausted and my mother is visiting, so I will post more later. I'll fast-forward to this: They are legally separated.

Two corrections: I read the separation papers and they married in 1998. Also, the separation wasn't filed until I was seeing Orazio for over a month.