It's Not Mel; It's Hell
I accepted an invitation to move with someone I dated thirty years ago. I moved from Jersey to Las Vegas, leaving everything to join him. He made promises as I helped him with everything and treated him great. After two and a half years together, I got to know the real person. He was very secretive and we couldn't have any conversation regarding anything. His memory was forgetful with no attention span. We would sit in chairs and watch TV. He changed the channel constantly and you would forget what you were watching. He had to be in control. He was very cheap, selfish, and lazy. He collected disability, but had no problems in the swinger clubs. I started to realize he had mental problems after checking through his notes and drawers. He's a womanizer who was always on dating sites and emailing past girlfriends. I did everything for this nut and he took advantage of me. The last straw was when he used my credit card without asking. I deducted the same amount from the food expense and he didn't like that. He kicked me out saying I was getting a little combative. I shipped all my clothes to New Jersey and moved into the spare room until my flight out. I left that jerk a letter telling him he doesn't have a conscience. If he could leave two children from different marriages without caring, I can leave him. He's now back on dating sites looking for someone nice. What a joke! He thinks he's a Mel Gibson look-alike. He pretends he's easy going and doesn't like to argue, but he'll just kick you out when he has a temper tantrum. Watch out Las Vegas; it's not Mel, it's hell!
— Natalie, 52