But honestly I think the attraction that other women had towards him was the exact reason why he held my heart for over a decade.
CHAPTER 3
BATTLE OF THE EXES
Me and his ex played many childish games to get his attention. Finally, weeks went by and there was no word from her and no sign of her. I was happy about that. But I was suspicious. But in the meantime me and my lover began getting closer. We shared more secrets, dreams and our aspirations. We became inseparable. Everything that we did revolved around each other. It felt good to be wanted, needed and loved. He earned my trust back.
Then it all began again. The uncertainty, that comes with fairly new relationships. Me and him we were like clockwork, morning, noon, night. Even in our sleep we were connected. Until I had an eerie feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Our relationship was at a nice steady pace and sex was extra good. So either he was cheating or I was paranoid. Every experience we had was orgasmic. Every encounter was sexually charged. Every ounce of me was tantalized with excitement. I didn’t want to lose him. But I was far from dumb. Something wasn’t right.
I called him and he didn’t answer. He called right back and said that he would call me when the game over. Well right back wasn’t until the morning. They say all things will come into the light, when the timing is right. When he called in the morning his conversation was weird. He was hitting mute and hiding background noise from my ears. Everything he said sounded like a lie. First he said he forgot to call me back. Then he said he fell asleep. Then he said he thought it was too late to call me back.
I thought to myself, you’re a lying piece of shit. But instead of revealing what I was thinking. I told him to have a nice day at work and that I loved him. He had no idea what rage was brewing inside of me. I started to get ready for work. But instead I called in sick to work and took a cab to his house. I needed to see for my-self what he was trying to hide.
I had a key that he had given me in case of an emergency. Which I thought meant that I could come and go as I please. As I was coming in, they were coming out. She was so closely behind him I could barely see her frail ass. She wasn’t as pretty, as I had once given her credit for. She scurried back to his bedroom. He tried to carry me back to my cab. I tried to break free from his arm. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. “I thought you loved me!” “Why did you eat my pussy last night?” “Why did we do it with no condom?”
Anything that was private business I was screaming for everyone to hear it. My lover could not have possibly thought that I would leave that easily. I swear every time I thought that things were going good for us. There was always something that was standing in the way. Mostly, it was other women. His ex was not the only one. She was just the only one that was consistently present. I was, a screaming, irate, jealous woman going off at 7am.
I kept asking myself, “Why are you here at the ass crack of dawn, sweatin this man?” But I didn’t have a logical answer. Except that I was in love. Love was making me do strange things. It was like I was under a spell. Love was driving my every thought and move. So there I stood in the driveway. He was wrestling to keep a hold of my arm.
My lover had such a look of disgust on his face. I knew I had gone too far. The thing with me was, I never seen what healthy intimacy looked like. I never saw a genuine healthy love between a man and a woman. So, all my actions represented that. I acted out simply because I didn’t know any better.
Finally, I cooled down and allowed my lover to put me back into my cab. He leaned in and put the seat belt on me. He also told me to calm down. “Stop crying, let me handle her.” I was instructed to go wait for his call. I did just that. I sobbed silently while the cab drove me home. I tilted my head on the window of the cab. Thinking about him and how much I loved him. I refused to lose.
But the question I should have posed to myself is, “Would it really be a loss?” I got out the cab. Wiped my tears and unlocked my front door. I put my phone in the bed with me on high volume. I laid there thinking. My thoughts were interrupted by his call.
I glanced at the Caller ID and I saw his name. I answered the phone before it finished the first ring. “I am coming to get you, be ready”, I said “ok”. He pulled up in his 69 Camaro and I jumped in. We didn’t talk on the ride. There was no need he already knew and so did I. This would be a love affair; that would last a lifetime.
No matter what he did or what he didn’t do. He had my heart and that would always be. I sank down into his leather sectional sofa. He sank down right next to me. He put my legs on top of his lap, shook his head and calmly said, “What is wrong with you?” I started crying. Putting my head down, I stuttered “I love you, and I thought you loved me too.” Then he gave me the song and dance. He said that she popped up while he was watching the NBA Playoffs. She too had cried and sang the same song I did.
We, as in me and her, were fools in love, with a fool. My promise from him was that it was over with her. Even though, I heard that before. I really needed to know what would be different this time. He also said that, his house key was only to be used with permission from him. So I reached into my pocket and gave it back.
My lover also said that if I ever put his neighbors in his business like that, he wound never fuck with me again. I told him that I had to do something to get his attention. But I would do my best not do that again. I think I actually meant it.
When you’re in love, it’s hard to control yourself. I listened but I didn’t hear him. The pounding of my heart was drowning out all logic. I should have stopped it right then. I should have let go. But I couldn’t and that was just our 1st year together. How did my heart endure 9 more years of him?
I was truly a slave of love and I would slave harder than my ancestors just to make him see that I was the one. When all the lights go out and the party has quieted down…How long do you hang onto the concept of love and the depths it took you too? Hoping that all your hard work and laboring, will amount to a happy ending.
I was always willing to any risks to prove my love and my loyalty. Thinking back on those years, I often question what it was that made me insanely in love with this average, mediocre man. Was it the sex? Was it the cat and mouse? Or was I literally addicted to the power struggle between us? Some may say I was a lost young woman, with daddy and abandonment issues. But I say I was a lost young woman that burned with the desire, to be loved by another person.
My lover continued to do what it is that he did best, love me and fuck me. It was consistent and dysfunctional. We spent countless nights entangled in a web of lust and broken promises. It all felt so right.
My emotions were finally in a stable place and his lies were in order. Life was ok. If I didn’t see it, or couldn’t prove it, then it never happened and I didn’t speak on it. The other women came and went, and I stayed. I cooked, cleaned, and was the epitome of the perfect girlfriend. I was obviously putting forth more effort than him.
I needed to leave. I needed to leave him before I kill him and all these bitches. It was becoming too much to handle. He was taking a toll on my emotional wellbeing. My tank was already on empty. I could not take too much more. I made some phone calls and arranged some things. Arizona would be my next stop.
Thinking back it hurts to know that I had to uproot myself from everything that I was familiar with. Just to keep from hurting myself and others. In my heart I knew, I needed to be away for him. I need to feel and act different than what I currently was. I couldn’t do that here in California.
I gave myself one month to get everything together and tie up all my lose ends. When I decide to do something I do it. When I decided I better leave California before I hurt my love and his bitch. I did everything in my power to support a positive transition for myself.
Sporadic, is the perfect word to describe how I function even to this day. Although, I’m getting better, I refuse to ponder situations and weigh out the pros and cons. Sometimes it’s too scary to handle. My mind was traveling in a
million different directions. I questioned myself and my existence within his world. How could my savior turn into someone that I no longer could trust?
This was a man that thought more so with his dick than with his brain. I was functioning at the lowest level in every other aspect of my life. My whole life was suffering because I couldn’t think of anything but him and how to hurt her. She was fucking everything up. But in reality if I hurt her physically or emotionally, I was hurting him. I didn’t want to hurt him.
So I just moved forward with my plan to move to Arizona. I had family out there and I was ready to start over. First I had to tell my lover. I would give him an ultimatum. Maybe by the grace of God I won’t be leaving.
I knew I had to handle this conversation with finesse, and from a perspective that he never thought of pertaining to me. Looking back I know now, that you can’t make anyone do anything. Especially a man, if they haven’t already foreseen it for themselves.
CHAPTER 4
TIME TO PACK
Making myself comfortable, I tried to contain all the emotions that were building up inside of me. I felt like there was a fire burning inside of me. So, I better open up my mouth before I erupt like a volcano. As soon as we settled in the bed for the night, I said “I’m moving.” He just looked at me. I continued, “I’m moving to Arizona.” More silence. He turned his back to me and said good night.
I felt hot tears streaming down my face, and I wanted to stop them. But I couldn’t. I was crying because of the silence that was now festering in the bed with us. There were no questions. There was no loving gaze into my eyes, only quiet. I turned over carefully, with my back to him. The reassurance that I needed to feel was null and void. So that ultimatum idea I had was irrelevant.
The next day was a regular, mundane morning. I climbed over him and hit the snooze button. We made love and we basked in the aftermath of that love. We scurried around for the get ready for work necessities, and he dropped me off at the BART Station. We said our goodbyes with a kiss. The kiss we shared that morning was long, and deep.
I took my time walking up to the train platform. I felt low and unwanted. Maybe I would just ride the train to the farthest destination, and at the end he would be there waiting. Apologizing, for being non- responsive when I told him I was moving, yeah right…I felt like I had been stabbed a hundred times with a rusty knife. Now my plan to get to Arizona was more underway than it originally was. There was nothing to keep me here and no one I wanted to stay for.
Gearing up to go to Arizona wasn’t easy. I had never been on a plane or away from my family. Truth be told, I was scared. But I had painted myself into a corner. I had to be accountable for everything that I said I would do and get it done. No matter if it hurt to do or not. So I made phone calls to my relatives living in Arizona. Hoping they had room for me. They did.
I was living in a studio in Hayward. It wasn’t a huge space but it was mine. After my apartment was lit on fire, anything was a blessing. Looking around my studio, and I had to figure out what to sell and what to keep. I glanced down at my hand and I started thinking about how it would have been, if had I married my ex.
I still had my ring but I wore it on my opposite hand now. I needed to get rid of that too. I sold my ring to the roommate. I don’t really know why but he wanted it. Plus any extra money could be used towards my move.
No need to hold on to something that would never be. Since I would be moving in with relatives, I knew that all my furniture needed to go. I sat on my bed debating on whether or not I should really leave.
I quit my job as office manager for a prestigious construction company the week prior. So I really had to proceed with this move. My job was an extra weight lifted off of me. Even without my pending move I wouldn’t have been able to take too much more of that job. My boss was a dick. His mouth was sarcastic and his manners were non-existent. Even thought I was familiar with being a doormat for men in my life. My boss wasn’t going to get away with being disrespectful.
I have never been with a man that was considered soft, nor had I ever been with a man that was considered a wimp. My lover was no different. When I told him, my boss, had addressed me as “fuckin, knuckle-head.” That posed a serious problem. An abuser does not like anyone else to have the authority or the ability to abuse their prey. So when my love came to pick me up from work on a Friday, he let my boss have it. My boss nearly shit his pants.
The conversation went something like this…“What’s up man?” “You have a problem with my girl?” “Uh, uh, uh, no sir, not at all” “I’m not sure what she told you.” “She told me you have a problem with that mouth of yours. “ “I thought we cleared that up.” My boss glanced over at me. He knew damn well we hadn’t cleared shit up. “You better watch your fuckin’ mouth, before you get yourself hurt.” We got in the truck and burnt rubber out the parking lot.
That night we made love. If only we could stay this way forever. He was my perfect peace. This is why I didn’t know how to leave. But I knew I had too. So as the time ticked. I prepared myself for what was to come. I arranged an interview over the phone with American Express in Arizona, and proceeded with my packing.
Our routine was still in effect, our love on repeat. A small part of me was dying and yet he had no clue. I wanted to be able to love without incident. I wanted to live and be happy. But with a cheater riding shot gun in my life I didn’t have a fair chance.
Then it happened; my sign from God. It was Friday night our date night. He went into the store and I stayed in the car. Looking for my favorite CD I found a stack of naked Polaroid pictures. However, in the handful of pictures I looked through, not one was of me. This bastard did not deserve me.
It was three or four, different women. My heart fell outside my body and my breathing slowed. I was defeated. I realized at that moment, love shouldn’t hurt. This needed to come to an end. Love isn’t about betrayal. It’s about feeling worthy to another human being. I hadn’t found that because, I had yet to know that I was worthy without a man. He was bringing my property value down and I allowed him too. He walked back to the truck, with paper bag full of liquor. I’m sure my face told how I felt. “Just take me home,” he looked over at me puzzled, puckering up for a kiss. I repeated, “I am not kidding, take me to my fuckin house.” He did just that.
When he stopped in front of my house I threw those Polaroid’s in his lap. Crying and hyperventilating, I got my ass out of that truck. I cried myself to sleep. Hoping not to wake up, begging not to feel pain. Asking God what did I do to deserve this treatment? God had given me plenty ways out. I just never chose them. Now am I completely aware that the whole duration of the relationship, I always had my free will. My phone rang and rang and rang, thru- out the night.
In the morning I woke up with a new lease on life. I finished packing and had an impromptu yard sale. I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of California. My plane ticket was purchased. My bags were packed, and my love life was on the brink of extinction. But the most importantly I needed to get away. I needed to clear my head. I needed to do something different and experience something different in an element that was different.
My love and I were on speaking terms, but I just couldn’t understand why he insisted on having more than one woman. Wasn’t I enough? Didn’t I satisfy him? The answers he gave me over the years would fluctuate from the truth to unbelievable lies. But soon enough, I would put all those issues behind me. It would be wheels up and everything would slowly evaporate behind me. I was looking forward to leaving him and his lies.
During that last week in California so many things were going on around me. At 22 years old I felt so lost. My maternal grandfather was dying with his mistress by his side. It seemed like everything I was familiar with was slowly parting from my grasp. Two days before I left for my new home in the desert. I went to the hospital to hug, kiss and say goodbye to my grandpa as he lay dying.
It was September 29th, 2001. I carried the guilt of leaving my lov
e behind. Plus leaving my granny and my mother during their time of grieving.
My grandparents had long divorced but my granny was old school, she stood by his side even when he was undeserving. I watched as him and my granny started parting ways. Acting less, like husband and wife and more like roommates.
Family is important. It’s the most important relationship on earth. Granny adhered to that, until my grandpa gave her a reason to proceed with a divorce. After over 30 years of marriage. I sat in the hospital waiting room… me, mama, and granny. His mistress in the waiting room, life seemed to be out of sorts in every which way. I reflected for a moment on my family. My family as I knew it began to take a different shape.
Now we all sit separately waiting for the inevitable, for my grandpa to pass onto the next life. Yeah I needed to go. I didn’t want to be the strength for everyone else anymore. I wanted to live for just me, just this once. Grandpa passed the next day. Even though I was sad, in two days I would be leaving behind my grief and pain. My life still had to carry on.
We made up for the sake of me leaving. I refused to hear the lies about the Polaroid pictures. Or the excuses of why his dick was constantly in between legs that were not mine. I just wanted to have fun and avoid arguing. That night we went to his cousin’s house…That night I was introduced to drugs.
I’m talking about Rick James, Whitney Houston, rock and roll type of drugs. Of course I had seen drugs before. My parents came from the Dope Era. I was an 80’s baby. I had already seen a lot and was about to experience more.
At his cousin’s house we drank and reminisced about the course of what our relationship had been. We smothered our liver in alcohol and laughed and enjoyed the night. While a blunt was rolled in another room, I was in the midst of enjoying the night. All the bad times were almost behind me. I sat on his lap and whispered in his ear. “I love you.”
Love Made Me Do It Page 3