Sitting in that hospital while the doctor rambled on and on was the easy part, because I wasn't listening. I was in full out panic mode. I cut him off mid rant to say, "so you're telling me I'm gonna have a baby any day now?" He looked at what had to be a face filled with fear and confusion and said "yeah any day now."
I explained to him all the ways this was impossible and he explained to me all this ways this was not only possible but a reality.
I also informed him, that I had obviously not told my parents or anyone and I would like to do that in my own way and in my own time. He nodded, but went on to tell me how he needed to run tests on me. While he did so, I contemplated my next move. In my mind, it started to make since why frat boy kept calling me fat, it's because I was pregnant. Speaking of which I have to not only tell him I'm pregnant, but that this is NOT his child. (Which in many ways was a relief, because I did not want my legacy to be the woman who gave birth to the spawn of Satan.)
And the plot thickens...
When the nurse began to draw my blood she could tell I was absolutely frantic and disheveled. And I know she was staring at the scars and bruises, because she said barely above a whisper, "there's always adoption. My friend owns an adoption agency." I turned to her and asked "really?" She and I talked for quite some time and she even gave me the number.
The next day I called, made an appointment and instead of going to work I went there. The people were very friendly and it was black owned. They showed me profiles of interested families and even a family who would take a child with disabilities. (Which with my lifestyle and habits was sure to be an issue) I have to admit I was impressed. The mother gets $10000 to cover expenses endured during pregnancy. And since I obviously had none, this was a financial upturn. I had pretty much made up my mind, but I had one thing left to do and that was tell him.
So, I went home and surprisingly he was there alone watching a movie. He greeted me when I came in which shocked the hell out of me. I stood about 3 feet away from him and I said "we need to talk." He said, "before you go on, your little stunt not only embarrassed me, but the bruhs too. But I get your point, I'll keep my escapades outside of the house." I got so angry I just balled my fists up and started breathing heavily. Between gritted teeth I said, "no that's not what I want to talk about." He stopped the movie, and walked right up on me until he had me backed into a corner. "Bitch you are not leaving me, you're mine."
He wrapped his hand around my neck, and I realized I had a decision to make. I could let him choke me to death that way he would have to serve jail time or I could just tell him and see if he kills me in a new and exciting way. I've never been a fan of suffocation, so I opted to tell him. I said, "I'm pregnant!" He let go of me.
I couldn't tell if he was angry or not, but I decided to go all in, "and it's not yours." I winced, because I knew he was gonna do something. But he never stopped pacing. I was shocked. I asked him if he heard me and he said "yes" very calmly. I started to walk to the room to get my things and surprisingly he didn't stop me. I packed up everything, and ran out of there. I felt so relieved. But when I made it to where my car was parked at he was leaning against my car. I was like "oh shit this is gonna go so horribly."
I pretended he wasn't there and tried to unlock my car but he pushed me and somehow I was backed up against the car with him hovering over me. This is a conversation I will never forget.
Him: How far along are you?
Me: 37 weeks
Him: So it's for Chi-Town?
Me: yes
Him: have you told anyone?
Me: No
A very scary smile crept over his face
Him: Since you insist on embarrassing me you're going to make this right.
Me: How is this about you?
Him: Don't test me bitch. See, I love you, but I'm going to need something more to validate what you did the other night. I'm going to tell everyone you were pregnant and scared to tell me because you didn't want to ruin my career. And you're going to say as a side effect this baby is premature so in fact it is mine. You're going to name him after me and we're going to be a family.
Me: Are you fucking crazy? I'm out of here.
Him: You're not going anywhere but back upstairs. You can go willingly or I can assist you.
I walked up the stairs dazed. I could understand or believe what had just happened. How in the hell did I end up in this situation. Pregnant again and with this nigga? I've always been a good person, but I'm living in HELL.
He didn't let me out of his sight the rest of the night. I didn't sleep. I spent the entire night trying to process everything, but to no avail. I got up earlier than usual to get ready for work. He didn't want me to go to work so we argued for nearly an hour. He got a call from his "bruhs" so he gave in. I dropped his off at his LB's house and headed off to work. I was driving to work, but I drove right past the exit and 3 hours later I was in my grandmother's living room crying and explaining my dilemma.
She took me to her doctor and sure enough I was pregnant. They scheduled me another appointment for August 7th. (2 days) I spoke with the adoption agency and they were speaking with the potential family.
Consequently, on the day of my appointment, it was confirmed that I had some sort of rupture. (This is why I had a menstrual cycle throughout the duration of this pregnancy.) Dehydration and mild malnutrition were the primary cause of the non-existent bump. When they checked for the baby's heart beat there was a faint one and then none. As horrible as this sounds, I was somewhat relieved.
They gave me medication to induce labor, but they were preparing me for a still birth or momentary life. At 3:33 am on August 8th I gave birth to a 6lb 8oz baby boy. He did not cry, he barely made a sound. They took him immediately to run tests and what not. I hate to admit feeling relieved, but it's true.
Yet nothing could prepare me for what happened next.
The doctor came in and told me that "he" was perfectly healthy; which again baffled them...and me. My mother must've known what I was feeling because she immediately took the baby from the nurse because I had no intention on doing so. I refused to even look at him. I lay there in silence and cried myself to sleep.
I woke up the next morning thinking...hoping it was all a dream, but it most assuredly was not. And to my immediate surprise my aunt and uncle who lived in Missouri was there. It became clear to me that my mom and grandma had called in reinforcements...MAJOR ONES!
Before I could say a word my uncle said, "I will not tell you what to do. But I will ask you not to give the baby up for adoption. We would like to to take him, and raise him as our own. He's family."
I was confused, angry, hurt, and guilt ridden. Let me explain.
Confused because I really didn't know how I ended up in this situation or what was the right thing to do. Angry because I had confided in my grandmother about the adoption and I felt betrayed. Not to mention that this conception came from rape. Hurt because I felt like I had let everyone down. Guilt ridden because of all of the above and because I had 2 children and I wasn't even 21.
Words escaped me so I cried. Then frat boy showed up.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Part 3.3 Fluorescent Lights
Believe it or not this "relationship" carried on. My weight was fluctuating in the size 3-5 range. I was drinking on a level where only a drunk could even get close to me. I was so afraid of him that I only went to class and back to my room.
I didn't eat only drank and slept. I didn't call him and we only talked when he initiated it. He controlled everything from where I went to what I wore. I was a puppet. In fact, I missed my final because he told me if I left my room I'd beg for death. He didn't want me getting a better grade in the course than him, so that 0 pulled my 125 A+ to a B- while he got the A.
After summer school was over, I stayed in town with him and one of his friends because my job was still going and the dorms had closed. It wasn't unusual to come home from work and find a houseful of girls and other fraternity members kicking it. I became immune to it.
On July 29th, I came home and it was even worse than ever. Half naked girls everywhere and he was having a menage on the living room floor. I stared down at them half in amazement and half in disgust. He looked at me and said, "bitch if you don't stop looking at me I will get two brooms this time." Shame and hurt overwhelmed me. Everyone started to laugh as he told the story of my sodomy, except for one girl in the room who looked almost as mortified as I felt. I ran into the room we shared and starting crying.
I can't remember every detail from that point only sketches here and there. I remember looking for his gun and wanting to shoot him, but I didn't want to go to prison. I thought about shooting myself but what if I didn't do it right and I ended up a vegetable. One thing was certain, I wanted to be anywhere but here. But I knew he would not just let me walk out and there was no more fight in me. I looked on the dresser and saw his frat brother's Valium. And in that instance I knew what I had to do.
I picked up the phone and had a casual conversation with my grandmother. I remember telling her I love her like 20 times and her asking me if I were alright. I remember Caleb's little voice making noises. I remember thinking how much better off he would be with my family raising him, because his mother was fucked up beyond repair.
(At this point I had stopped going home to see my son. I was too embarrassed of what I had become. I just knew he could see right through me. I couldn't bear to be anymore of a disappointment to anyone. I needed at least one person's lasting image of me to be a good one. I didn't want to lose his love and I knew if he laid eyes on me he wouldn't love me anymore either.)
I remember taking a shower and putting on my nice underwear because I didn't want to embarrass my grandmother by having on raggedy or dirty panties. I walked back out into the front room and looked at everyone. I grabbed a bottled water and expressionlessly (or so I'd like to think) I walked back into the room. I look at the girl from before and she returned a look of empathy. I feigned a smile and walked back into the room.
I don't know how many pills were in the bottle, but I took every one. All I know is that I became over powered by sleep, I felt physically heavy, but emotionally light. I'd like to tell you that I saw a bright light but I didn't. All I remember was darkness and I succumbed to it. Anywhere had to be better than this.
When Bella said, "death is easy but life is so much harder". This had to be what she was referring to. The peaceful darkness was replaced by fluorescent lights, beeping sounds, and unfamiliar faces. I felt disoriented,confused, and sore. There was a tube in my nose, an IV in my arm, and people so many people. I remember thinking "wow dead people can hear and see" and "I did put on my new panties right?"
Then I heard someone say, "it was touch and go there for a while but she's gonna be alright." "Who was gonna be alright?" I thought. Surely, they couldn't be talking about me. Who would have found me in time? I had planned this so well.
Sometime later, I woke up to see my parents and grandparents sitting in various places around the bed. I pretended to be sleep so I could think of a feasible explanation for my parents, but there was none. I scanned the room and saw frat boy talking to my mom and pretending to be concerned.
While I was going over my disdain for him and thinking of a better way to successfully erase my existence next time, the doctor walked in. With a stern but concerned look on his face he explained to me that if I hadn't gotten there when I did I would not have made it.
When he asked me why I did it, I just turned away and didn't answer him. He repeated himself, but this time when I didn't answer, he told me that I shouldn't just think of myself but the implications this could have on my unborn child.
He continued on by saying, "looking at your weight and size I would say you couldn't be more than a couple of weeks pregnant, but we're gonna run some tests to be sure."
The room was eerie quiet, because it was just me and the doctor in there; which was good. Because that meant I didn't have to further embarrass myself in front of anybody nor did I have to explain my decision. I could just get it over with.
All I kept thinking about was "I am NOT giving birth to his demon seed by no means so point me in the direction of the nearest clinic!" But in the back of my mind I kept remembering that we had never had sex without a condom. EVER!!!
Then I thought "don't tell me this bastard plotted on me too!"
And more importantly, I had never missed a period, in fact I was mid-monthly right now; so how the hell could I be pregnant?
But my thoughts were cut short when the doctor came back and told me I wasn't a couple of weeks pregnant, I was 37 weeks pregnant making my date of conception November 9th the night I got raped by Chi-town. (the only time I'd ever been condomless)
Why hadn't I died?
I didn't eat only drank and slept. I didn't call him and we only talked when he initiated it. He controlled everything from where I went to what I wore. I was a puppet. In fact, I missed my final because he told me if I left my room I'd beg for death. He didn't want me getting a better grade in the course than him, so that 0 pulled my 125 A+ to a B- while he got the A.
After summer school was over, I stayed in town with him and one of his friends because my job was still going and the dorms had closed. It wasn't unusual to come home from work and find a houseful of girls and other fraternity members kicking it. I became immune to it.
On July 29th, I came home and it was even worse than ever. Half naked girls everywhere and he was having a menage on the living room floor. I stared down at them half in amazement and half in disgust. He looked at me and said, "bitch if you don't stop looking at me I will get two brooms this time." Shame and hurt overwhelmed me. Everyone started to laugh as he told the story of my sodomy, except for one girl in the room who looked almost as mortified as I felt. I ran into the room we shared and starting crying.
I can't remember every detail from that point only sketches here and there. I remember looking for his gun and wanting to shoot him, but I didn't want to go to prison. I thought about shooting myself but what if I didn't do it right and I ended up a vegetable. One thing was certain, I wanted to be anywhere but here. But I knew he would not just let me walk out and there was no more fight in me. I looked on the dresser and saw his frat brother's Valium. And in that instance I knew what I had to do.
I picked up the phone and had a casual conversation with my grandmother. I remember telling her I love her like 20 times and her asking me if I were alright. I remember Caleb's little voice making noises. I remember thinking how much better off he would be with my family raising him, because his mother was fucked up beyond repair.
(At this point I had stopped going home to see my son. I was too embarrassed of what I had become. I just knew he could see right through me. I couldn't bear to be anymore of a disappointment to anyone. I needed at least one person's lasting image of me to be a good one. I didn't want to lose his love and I knew if he laid eyes on me he wouldn't love me anymore either.)
I remember taking a shower and putting on my nice underwear because I didn't want to embarrass my grandmother by having on raggedy or dirty panties. I walked back out into the front room and looked at everyone. I grabbed a bottled water and expressionlessly (or so I'd like to think) I walked back into the room. I look at the girl from before and she returned a look of empathy. I feigned a smile and walked back into the room.
I don't know how many pills were in the bottle, but I took every one. All I know is that I became over powered by sleep, I felt physically heavy, but emotionally light. I'd like to tell you that I saw a bright light but I didn't. All I remember was darkness and I succumbed to it. Anywhere had to be better than this.
When Bella said, "death is easy but life is so much harder". This had to be what she was referring to. The peaceful darkness was replaced by fluorescent lights, beeping sounds, and unfamiliar faces. I felt disoriented,confused, and sore. There was a tube in my nose, an IV in my arm, and people so many people. I remember thinking "wow dead people can hear and see" and "I did put on my new panties right?"
Then I heard someone say, "it was touch and go there for a while but she's gonna be alright." "Who was gonna be alright?" I thought. Surely, they couldn't be talking about me. Who would have found me in time? I had planned this so well.
Sometime later, I woke up to see my parents and grandparents sitting in various places around the bed. I pretended to be sleep so I could think of a feasible explanation for my parents, but there was none. I scanned the room and saw frat boy talking to my mom and pretending to be concerned.
While I was going over my disdain for him and thinking of a better way to successfully erase my existence next time, the doctor walked in. With a stern but concerned look on his face he explained to me that if I hadn't gotten there when I did I would not have made it.
When he asked me why I did it, I just turned away and didn't answer him. He repeated himself, but this time when I didn't answer, he told me that I shouldn't just think of myself but the implications this could have on my unborn child.
He continued on by saying, "looking at your weight and size I would say you couldn't be more than a couple of weeks pregnant, but we're gonna run some tests to be sure."
The room was eerie quiet, because it was just me and the doctor in there; which was good. Because that meant I didn't have to further embarrass myself in front of anybody nor did I have to explain my decision. I could just get it over with.
All I kept thinking about was "I am NOT giving birth to his demon seed by no means so point me in the direction of the nearest clinic!" But in the back of my mind I kept remembering that we had never had sex without a condom. EVER!!!
Then I thought "don't tell me this bastard plotted on me too!"
And more importantly, I had never missed a period, in fact I was mid-monthly right now; so how the hell could I be pregnant?
But my thoughts were cut short when the doctor came back and told me I wasn't a couple of weeks pregnant, I was 37 weeks pregnant making my date of conception November 9th the night I got raped by Chi-town. (the only time I'd ever been condomless)
Why hadn't I died?
Part 3.2 The Breaking Point
A week later, he called me and asked me to meet him somewhere so he could at least apologize and explain. He claimed he knew that I wasn't going to take him back, but he owed me an explanation and an apology. I agreed to meet him, but it had to be somewhere public.
We met in the library and talked for about 2 hours. My roommate was sitting at a nearby table just as a fail safe. Around 10, we left the library and started making our way back to the dorms. When we were in eyesight of the dorm my roommate went inside; as I turned to him to say goodnight, he shoved me against the building. He held me with one hand and reached in his bag and pulled out a gun with the other. He said, "I should kill you right now."
I started crying, I was thinking about my young son, and my family. Then he started crying. And just like a scene from a movie he started ranting about being sorry and never meaning to hurt me. How much he loved me and knew that I was real. I don't know that I have ever been more scared in my life. I stood there mortified. He went from pointing the gun at me to pointing it at himself.
He asked me if I could ever forgive him and give him another chance, but I said I needed time. He got so angry and yelled "It's another nigga ain't it?" I was like "no, you just really hurt me." He started flipping out again, and put the gun to his temple. I knew the gun was loaded he'd always had it for emergencies. By this point I was stone stiff.
As wrong as this sounds there is a part of me who wishes I would have let him blow his brains out, then it would have ended right there that night. I could have started the healing process, but consequently this was just the beginning.
I begged him to put the gun down and he said he would only do it if "I loved him again and gave him the chance to make it right." You can call me stupid, but you never know what you will agree to in order to not have someone's blood on your hands...literally.
Here we go again.
Surprisingly, things were going well. He was the person I initially fell for. I can't lie I was terrified of him still. One night my girls hit up a party, and if you know us when we step out we're all the way fly. We get there and it's poppin', the crowd the DJ everything was just on.
I was making my way across the dance floor to get to the lounge area when I saw him damn near fucking this girl on the dance floor. Dancing is one thing, but what they were doing was way more. She led him off the dance floor and proceeded to let him fuck her in the restroom. I followed them, it was like I was in a trance. I got so pissed, but I've never been one for a scene.
(In writing this, I realize this is where the first change in me happened.)
Right in that instance, a very handsome guy grabbed my arm and said, "you wanna dance with me ma?" I smiled at the invitation and opportunity. (oh and this is when I fell in love with east coast accents.)
I was already tipsy, but I downed the rest of my Hen and Alize and followed him out to the dance floor. And we danced for the next 4 or 5 songs, truthfully I didn't even think about frat boy after the 1st song ended. I was enjoying myself. Mr. East Coast and I left the dance floor and went to sit in the lounge area. He ordered us each another drink and we were just talking when Frat boy appeared out of nowhere and flipped the table over. Just as the altercation was about to pop off Frat boy's 5 LBs came out of nowhere and they were about to jump him. So I asked him to stop and I left the club with him.
We stood in the parking lot and argued. He called me every type of whore he could think of and even made up words. I never told him what I saw. He grabbed me but before he could go any further one of his LBs grabbed him and made him leave. Too embarrassed to go back in, I walked back to campus.
The next day he "blamed it on the alcohol". And I pretended to accept, but I don't think I ever did because like I said that night changed me. I had a new mentality, "niggas ain't shit and I'm gonna get you before you get me." My girls had always told me it was imperative to have a piece on the side "dick in a glass case" per se. And I had a former "friend" who was dying to get back in, so after contemplating the whole situation I decided to hit him up.
And just like that I had went from team member to general manager. And I started building a roster. I didn't care what he did or said because I barely listened. When he didn't show up to spend time with me I had a dude on my roster whose sole purpose was to be arm candy. When he was out "creeping", I was in getting my brains beat in. When I wanted a study partner, I had someone for that too. My starting 5 all played their roles to perfection.
One day, he and I were driving back to campus and I saw a license plate that read "kpitdwnlw" or something like that and I laughed. He got so mad, he didn't say anything all the way back to campus. When we got in my room, I put my purse down and turned around into his fist. This is the first time he ever disregarded my face. He blacked my eye, and busted my lip. And just like deja vu when I started to fight back he broke my hand but this time it was the right one.
He knew my roommate and suite mates were at the mall so he unleashed. I didn't scream because I was trying to hold on to what little oxygen I had left. And there aren't many people in summer school so who was gonna hear me? He pinned me to the bed on my stomach, pulled my dress up grabbed my broom and said, "you won't give me anal so I'll take it and teach you a lesson too bitch. I know you're fucking someone else and I'm gonna teach you. I will break you. You won't be worth shit when I'm done with you." I could feel it all the way in my chest. There was blood every where.
I was broken.
For the next few weeks, I walked around like a zombie. I had 22 stitches and I let him do whatever he wanted with all these girls and with me. And he had finally done it. I felt like nothing.
Who was gonna love me now?
We met in the library and talked for about 2 hours. My roommate was sitting at a nearby table just as a fail safe. Around 10, we left the library and started making our way back to the dorms. When we were in eyesight of the dorm my roommate went inside; as I turned to him to say goodnight, he shoved me against the building. He held me with one hand and reached in his bag and pulled out a gun with the other. He said, "I should kill you right now."
I started crying, I was thinking about my young son, and my family. Then he started crying. And just like a scene from a movie he started ranting about being sorry and never meaning to hurt me. How much he loved me and knew that I was real. I don't know that I have ever been more scared in my life. I stood there mortified. He went from pointing the gun at me to pointing it at himself.
He asked me if I could ever forgive him and give him another chance, but I said I needed time. He got so angry and yelled "It's another nigga ain't it?" I was like "no, you just really hurt me." He started flipping out again, and put the gun to his temple. I knew the gun was loaded he'd always had it for emergencies. By this point I was stone stiff.
As wrong as this sounds there is a part of me who wishes I would have let him blow his brains out, then it would have ended right there that night. I could have started the healing process, but consequently this was just the beginning.
I begged him to put the gun down and he said he would only do it if "I loved him again and gave him the chance to make it right." You can call me stupid, but you never know what you will agree to in order to not have someone's blood on your hands...literally.
Here we go again.
Surprisingly, things were going well. He was the person I initially fell for. I can't lie I was terrified of him still. One night my girls hit up a party, and if you know us when we step out we're all the way fly. We get there and it's poppin', the crowd the DJ everything was just on.
I was making my way across the dance floor to get to the lounge area when I saw him damn near fucking this girl on the dance floor. Dancing is one thing, but what they were doing was way more. She led him off the dance floor and proceeded to let him fuck her in the restroom. I followed them, it was like I was in a trance. I got so pissed, but I've never been one for a scene.
(In writing this, I realize this is where the first change in me happened.)
Right in that instance, a very handsome guy grabbed my arm and said, "you wanna dance with me ma?" I smiled at the invitation and opportunity. (oh and this is when I fell in love with east coast accents.)
I was already tipsy, but I downed the rest of my Hen and Alize and followed him out to the dance floor. And we danced for the next 4 or 5 songs, truthfully I didn't even think about frat boy after the 1st song ended. I was enjoying myself. Mr. East Coast and I left the dance floor and went to sit in the lounge area. He ordered us each another drink and we were just talking when Frat boy appeared out of nowhere and flipped the table over. Just as the altercation was about to pop off Frat boy's 5 LBs came out of nowhere and they were about to jump him. So I asked him to stop and I left the club with him.
We stood in the parking lot and argued. He called me every type of whore he could think of and even made up words. I never told him what I saw. He grabbed me but before he could go any further one of his LBs grabbed him and made him leave. Too embarrassed to go back in, I walked back to campus.
The next day he "blamed it on the alcohol". And I pretended to accept, but I don't think I ever did because like I said that night changed me. I had a new mentality, "niggas ain't shit and I'm gonna get you before you get me." My girls had always told me it was imperative to have a piece on the side "dick in a glass case" per se. And I had a former "friend" who was dying to get back in, so after contemplating the whole situation I decided to hit him up.
And just like that I had went from team member to general manager. And I started building a roster. I didn't care what he did or said because I barely listened. When he didn't show up to spend time with me I had a dude on my roster whose sole purpose was to be arm candy. When he was out "creeping", I was in getting my brains beat in. When I wanted a study partner, I had someone for that too. My starting 5 all played their roles to perfection.
One day, he and I were driving back to campus and I saw a license plate that read "kpitdwnlw" or something like that and I laughed. He got so mad, he didn't say anything all the way back to campus. When we got in my room, I put my purse down and turned around into his fist. This is the first time he ever disregarded my face. He blacked my eye, and busted my lip. And just like deja vu when I started to fight back he broke my hand but this time it was the right one.
He knew my roommate and suite mates were at the mall so he unleashed. I didn't scream because I was trying to hold on to what little oxygen I had left. And there aren't many people in summer school so who was gonna hear me? He pinned me to the bed on my stomach, pulled my dress up grabbed my broom and said, "you won't give me anal so I'll take it and teach you a lesson too bitch. I know you're fucking someone else and I'm gonna teach you. I will break you. You won't be worth shit when I'm done with you." I could feel it all the way in my chest. There was blood every where.
I was broken.
For the next few weeks, I walked around like a zombie. I had 22 stitches and I let him do whatever he wanted with all these girls and with me. And he had finally done it. I felt like nothing.
Who was gonna love me now?
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Part 3.1 Frat Boys Suck!!!
Long before becoming a Zeta; I was a 3 person by nature. I was born to be a Tre. Everything in my life (in retrospect has happened in threes)I like my alliteration in threes, I'm the eldest of 3, I'm the 3rd person in my family to get a college degree. The list could go on...
My granddad told me that trouble comes in threes. Adhering to his wisdom, I agreed and believed him. So it should have been no surprise that my 3rd attempt at obtaining a healthy relationship would lead me to this...
I met frat boy (although he wasn't greek yet he was on line) through my suite mate. They were study partners and he asked her to introduce us. When we met, I was still dating Chi-town and I was upfront with him about that. So we agreed to only embark upon a friendship.
The week before Christmas break he crossed. So when break came we rode home together because we lived in neighboring cities. We talked only twice during the break. Once to wish me a Merry Christmas, and the second time to wish me a Happy New Year and to ask for a ride back to school.
We remained friends, and I had gotten him a lanyard as a crossing gift. When the whole birthday debacle happened he was there to comfort me. We ran into each other in the library and the conversation just flowed. We started talking and it was just a natural transition for us to be together.
I don't know how or why I didn't hear the loud ass sirens. Again! Everyone had warned me since freshman year to never ever date Greeks. And I had made a point to hold fast to that warning...until now. But I didn't see him as the prototypical "Greek" He was a shy country boy; kinda nerdy with the cutest little baby face. We had so much in common. We studied together, played cards together, shot pool, dominoes and got good grades. I was majoring in accounting and he was a marketing major we were a seemingly perfect pair.
About a month into our relationship things took a turn. His new found popularity due to being Greek began to surface. Girls started throwing themselves at him. Even when I was with him, girls would walk right up and tell him they wanted to fuck. It was as if I were invisible.
You would think he would at least play them to the left while I was there, but he didn't. He entertained it and said things like "I bet you do" or "you know you can't handle me sweetie." Then laugh like she had told him a funny joke. When I expressed how uncomfortable that made me feel, he said "hey I have an image to maintain. You know I don't want them." Something in that declaration made me feel a little better, but I should've known better.
(Let me clarify something here. Before he and I got together and prior to his Greek status, chicks were not checking for him. He and I had long talks about how girls used to diss him. How the only girls to ever give him the time of day were the 3 girls he had dated over the course of his ENTIRE life (which includes high school). Other girls dismissed him. So he often asked me what I saw in him and I poured out my heart to him. I told him I was more captivated by his brain and personality than anything else. I explained that while I did find him attractive those were the things I was falling for. Looks fade but character is forever. I wanted him for who he was and not what he looked like.)
Over the next week or so I could see the changes in him. No more shyness, contacts replaced the glasses, and he worked out like a body builder; often walking around shirtless. Now I'm all for self improvement when you're doing it for yourself, but I knew there was something more. I complimented him on his new physique, but I told him that I hope he had not changed who he really was, but when he assured me that he hadn't I was not convinced.
The following week the frat was having a male auction. And the flier said the winners gets 24 exclusive hours with whomever they had purchased. I told him I was uncomfortable with him participating, so he promised me that he would just host the event.
However, the night of the event he called me to tell me that he was being highly requested by the females so the bruhs wanted him to be the headliner and he had agreed. He asked me to come and buy him, to make it a win win. On principle I couldn't do it. I felt like auctions were too representative of slavery.
My suite mate decided that she was going to go and she was going to buy him for me but that did not happen.
The frat had a record attendance and his immediate ex who we shall call hurricane bought him for $750. Yes seven hundred and fifty dollars!!!! (No one else went for more than $50) When my suite mate returned and told me what had happened I cried. I didn't see or hear from him for 2 days. Within those 48 hours; which seemed endless, I made up in my mind that I did not want to be with him, but I couldn't stop thinking about him.
My roommate Shaunie decided to treat me to lunch at a nearby eatery on the 2nd day because she knew I wouldn't have left the room otherwise. I was trying to focus my attention on our conversation when I saw him. He and hurricane were cuddled up in a booth in the restaurant. They were so wrapped up in each other they never looked up at me or Shaunie. I ran out of the place before either of them could notice me. Shaunie ordered us some food and met me at the room some time later.
(This is the part where I started to question my standpoint. I paced my room chastising myself for being so petty and not going to the auction. I blamed myself because I didn't support him. I kept feeling like I should have been there. Honestly, I didn't have $750 and even if I did, I would not have spent it on that...or so I would like to believe.)
Seeing him with her should have been the end of it, but you know that would be too much like right. On day 3 (ha) he showed up at my room citing how he was back and since she had spent so much money they gave her 48 hours. He and his LB claimed that nothing happened, and I accepted his explanation. Not because I believed him, but because I wanted to believe. (Had I understood the bond between LBs I would have told them to get the fuck out)
About a week later, he was back to being his "new" self. Flirting with every girl he saw. Disappearing at night because they were having "SET" when I knew better. One day when I called him on it I will never forget what he said, "Look here you fat bitch if you would go the gym and work out, skip a couple of meals maybe I wouldn't be so tempted. I mean it's not like you can ever wear a bikini with those horrid stretch marks but you could do something with yourself."
I was a size 6 thinner than I had ever been.
"He told me that I was lucky to be in his life and I should just play my position." I asked him who the fuck he thought he was and I told him to get the fuck out of my room then I added, "just because you don't think I look good doesn't mean shit; trust me I know someone else who likes it very much."
And that's when it happened. He slapped me. At first he looked shocked, but I truly believe he fed off of my fear. And he kept slapping and kicking me while I was balled up in the corner. He didn't stop until my roommate walked in and screamed at him to stop. She had to call his name 3 times. He looked at her and told her it was my fault, then left.
For the next few hours I refused to move. I think I was emotionally paralyzed. My roommate finally asked me, "what happened?" I just said it was my fault and went into the shower and cried.
I honestly did believe it was my fault. I should have just kept my damned mouth shut. I examined my body and I didn't even see the bruises and scars all I saw were the flaws he had so casually mentioned. I knew I had a smart mouth so I reckoned that I had caused his reaction.
While he was hitting me he told me how "I was lucky to have him, lucky anyone would look at me, and the fact that I had a child meant he was the best I would ever do. And no one would ever love me. And how he barely wanted me. And that I needed to shape up before he was gone."
I flashed all the way back to my son's father. And I agreed that I would never have anyone to love me. So I decided I would do whatever it took.
"Having a piece of man is better than having no man at all" Right?
So I stopped eating and I spent every free minute in the gym. He told me that if I really loved him I would sacrifice at least 4 meals per week. Meaning I could only eat on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And I did it. Even then if he saw me eating something he didn't feel was "worthy" he snatched it from me or dragged me to the gym for an extra hour. (I already spent 4 hours a day in there.)
After passing out and ending up in the infirmary I went to the cafe to eat with my friends. I saw him sitting alone and I went to sit next to him. He looked at my food on the tray and said, "I see some things will never change. I don't want to sit next to you Ms. Piggy" and he poured a bowl of jambalaya on me. I ran out of there so fast, and he yelled behind me, "if you did more of that you wouldn't be such a porker." I was down to a size 4 but I didn't just look thin, I looked ill.
About 3 hours later, his neo showed up at my door to apologize on his behalf. He told me how sorry he was and wanted to know if he could come over. I told him "Hell No!!" So he left. At about 4 am I heard a knock on my door. I thought it was my roommate who frequently left her keys so I got up and groggily opened the door. It was him!
I tried to hurry and close the door but he easily overpowered me. He barged in grabbed me and choked me. He smelled like a bar. He commenced to whipping my ass. When he realized I was gonna fight back he broke my hand. The pain was so horrendous. Everything started to spin and I was eerily silent. I thought my eardrum had burst and I was deaf, but I was somewhat thankful for the silence. I just lay there and I remember him wailing on me for I don't know how long because my hand hurt so bad. He was ripping off my panties when the night officer came in. A neighbor had called the campus police, but the one who came was his frat brother so he got off with a warning and I drove myself to the hospital because I didn't want anyone to see me like this again.
He had made sure not to mark up my face, but there were hand prints around my neck and my body was covered in bruising. When I finally got home, I told everyone I fell down the stairs and that's how I broke my hand and got the bruises. The same lie I told my father because I had to use his insurance. I wore jeans and long sleeves to mask the rest.
You would think this would be the end.
My granddad told me that trouble comes in threes. Adhering to his wisdom, I agreed and believed him. So it should have been no surprise that my 3rd attempt at obtaining a healthy relationship would lead me to this...
I met frat boy (although he wasn't greek yet he was on line) through my suite mate. They were study partners and he asked her to introduce us. When we met, I was still dating Chi-town and I was upfront with him about that. So we agreed to only embark upon a friendship.
The week before Christmas break he crossed. So when break came we rode home together because we lived in neighboring cities. We talked only twice during the break. Once to wish me a Merry Christmas, and the second time to wish me a Happy New Year and to ask for a ride back to school.
We remained friends, and I had gotten him a lanyard as a crossing gift. When the whole birthday debacle happened he was there to comfort me. We ran into each other in the library and the conversation just flowed. We started talking and it was just a natural transition for us to be together.
I don't know how or why I didn't hear the loud ass sirens. Again! Everyone had warned me since freshman year to never ever date Greeks. And I had made a point to hold fast to that warning...until now. But I didn't see him as the prototypical "Greek" He was a shy country boy; kinda nerdy with the cutest little baby face. We had so much in common. We studied together, played cards together, shot pool, dominoes and got good grades. I was majoring in accounting and he was a marketing major we were a seemingly perfect pair.
About a month into our relationship things took a turn. His new found popularity due to being Greek began to surface. Girls started throwing themselves at him. Even when I was with him, girls would walk right up and tell him they wanted to fuck. It was as if I were invisible.
You would think he would at least play them to the left while I was there, but he didn't. He entertained it and said things like "I bet you do" or "you know you can't handle me sweetie." Then laugh like she had told him a funny joke. When I expressed how uncomfortable that made me feel, he said "hey I have an image to maintain. You know I don't want them." Something in that declaration made me feel a little better, but I should've known better.
(Let me clarify something here. Before he and I got together and prior to his Greek status, chicks were not checking for him. He and I had long talks about how girls used to diss him. How the only girls to ever give him the time of day were the 3 girls he had dated over the course of his ENTIRE life (which includes high school). Other girls dismissed him. So he often asked me what I saw in him and I poured out my heart to him. I told him I was more captivated by his brain and personality than anything else. I explained that while I did find him attractive those were the things I was falling for. Looks fade but character is forever. I wanted him for who he was and not what he looked like.)
Over the next week or so I could see the changes in him. No more shyness, contacts replaced the glasses, and he worked out like a body builder; often walking around shirtless. Now I'm all for self improvement when you're doing it for yourself, but I knew there was something more. I complimented him on his new physique, but I told him that I hope he had not changed who he really was, but when he assured me that he hadn't I was not convinced.
The following week the frat was having a male auction. And the flier said the winners gets 24 exclusive hours with whomever they had purchased. I told him I was uncomfortable with him participating, so he promised me that he would just host the event.
However, the night of the event he called me to tell me that he was being highly requested by the females so the bruhs wanted him to be the headliner and he had agreed. He asked me to come and buy him, to make it a win win. On principle I couldn't do it. I felt like auctions were too representative of slavery.
My suite mate decided that she was going to go and she was going to buy him for me but that did not happen.
The frat had a record attendance and his immediate ex who we shall call hurricane bought him for $750. Yes seven hundred and fifty dollars!!!! (No one else went for more than $50) When my suite mate returned and told me what had happened I cried. I didn't see or hear from him for 2 days. Within those 48 hours; which seemed endless, I made up in my mind that I did not want to be with him, but I couldn't stop thinking about him.
My roommate Shaunie decided to treat me to lunch at a nearby eatery on the 2nd day because she knew I wouldn't have left the room otherwise. I was trying to focus my attention on our conversation when I saw him. He and hurricane were cuddled up in a booth in the restaurant. They were so wrapped up in each other they never looked up at me or Shaunie. I ran out of the place before either of them could notice me. Shaunie ordered us some food and met me at the room some time later.
(This is the part where I started to question my standpoint. I paced my room chastising myself for being so petty and not going to the auction. I blamed myself because I didn't support him. I kept feeling like I should have been there. Honestly, I didn't have $750 and even if I did, I would not have spent it on that...or so I would like to believe.)
Seeing him with her should have been the end of it, but you know that would be too much like right. On day 3 (ha) he showed up at my room citing how he was back and since she had spent so much money they gave her 48 hours. He and his LB claimed that nothing happened, and I accepted his explanation. Not because I believed him, but because I wanted to believe. (Had I understood the bond between LBs I would have told them to get the fuck out)
About a week later, he was back to being his "new" self. Flirting with every girl he saw. Disappearing at night because they were having "SET" when I knew better. One day when I called him on it I will never forget what he said, "Look here you fat bitch if you would go the gym and work out, skip a couple of meals maybe I wouldn't be so tempted. I mean it's not like you can ever wear a bikini with those horrid stretch marks but you could do something with yourself."
I was a size 6 thinner than I had ever been.
"He told me that I was lucky to be in his life and I should just play my position." I asked him who the fuck he thought he was and I told him to get the fuck out of my room then I added, "just because you don't think I look good doesn't mean shit; trust me I know someone else who likes it very much."
And that's when it happened. He slapped me. At first he looked shocked, but I truly believe he fed off of my fear. And he kept slapping and kicking me while I was balled up in the corner. He didn't stop until my roommate walked in and screamed at him to stop. She had to call his name 3 times. He looked at her and told her it was my fault, then left.
For the next few hours I refused to move. I think I was emotionally paralyzed. My roommate finally asked me, "what happened?" I just said it was my fault and went into the shower and cried.
I honestly did believe it was my fault. I should have just kept my damned mouth shut. I examined my body and I didn't even see the bruises and scars all I saw were the flaws he had so casually mentioned. I knew I had a smart mouth so I reckoned that I had caused his reaction.
While he was hitting me he told me how "I was lucky to have him, lucky anyone would look at me, and the fact that I had a child meant he was the best I would ever do. And no one would ever love me. And how he barely wanted me. And that I needed to shape up before he was gone."
I flashed all the way back to my son's father. And I agreed that I would never have anyone to love me. So I decided I would do whatever it took.
"Having a piece of man is better than having no man at all" Right?
So I stopped eating and I spent every free minute in the gym. He told me that if I really loved him I would sacrifice at least 4 meals per week. Meaning I could only eat on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And I did it. Even then if he saw me eating something he didn't feel was "worthy" he snatched it from me or dragged me to the gym for an extra hour. (I already spent 4 hours a day in there.)
After passing out and ending up in the infirmary I went to the cafe to eat with my friends. I saw him sitting alone and I went to sit next to him. He looked at my food on the tray and said, "I see some things will never change. I don't want to sit next to you Ms. Piggy" and he poured a bowl of jambalaya on me. I ran out of there so fast, and he yelled behind me, "if you did more of that you wouldn't be such a porker." I was down to a size 4 but I didn't just look thin, I looked ill.
About 3 hours later, his neo showed up at my door to apologize on his behalf. He told me how sorry he was and wanted to know if he could come over. I told him "Hell No!!" So he left. At about 4 am I heard a knock on my door. I thought it was my roommate who frequently left her keys so I got up and groggily opened the door. It was him!
I tried to hurry and close the door but he easily overpowered me. He barged in grabbed me and choked me. He smelled like a bar. He commenced to whipping my ass. When he realized I was gonna fight back he broke my hand. The pain was so horrendous. Everything started to spin and I was eerily silent. I thought my eardrum had burst and I was deaf, but I was somewhat thankful for the silence. I just lay there and I remember him wailing on me for I don't know how long because my hand hurt so bad. He was ripping off my panties when the night officer came in. A neighbor had called the campus police, but the one who came was his frat brother so he got off with a warning and I drove myself to the hospital because I didn't want anyone to see me like this again.
He had made sure not to mark up my face, but there were hand prints around my neck and my body was covered in bruising. When I finally got home, I told everyone I fell down the stairs and that's how I broke my hand and got the bruises. The same lie I told my father because I had to use his insurance. I wore jeans and long sleeves to mask the rest.
You would think this would be the end.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Part 2 (Worst Birthday Ever)
But it wasn't until I went to college and met through a mutual friend one of the men who would change my life forever...on Halloween who was dressed like a clown. Bad omen right? Didn't cross my mind til I was looking at it in hindsight. But what attracted me to him was his artsiness. He was a musician who wrote and played music. He was so talented and so damned smart and funny. I'm a sucker for an artist especially a musician.
He and I were friends in my opinion and when I introduced him as such he pulled me to the side and said, "so is this all we are?" I was like, "yeah, because you never asked me for more than my friendship." He got angry stormed off, but when we were leaving the party and I was dropping him off at his dorm, he turned and asked me to be his girlfriend."
I was kinda stunned because we had ridden home in complete silence. I looked him in his eyes and said, "I'll think about it and get back with you tomorrow or the next day." (I'm a firm believer in if you want more than friendship you better ask me straight up or you'll never have anything more)He got out of the car and said, "please don't make me wait forever." I smiled, and drove off.
Nevertheless by November 3rd we were officially an item. And by November 9th he was raping me in his dorm room. But somehow he managed to convince me that I wanted it and he didn't hear me say stop. He went on to say that someone like him would never have to rape anyone. I couldn't deny that girls were running after him. He went on to say that I should feel lucky that he had chosen me. Cliche huh?
Well needless to say, the relationship continued on and I picked up an excessive drinking habit. I wanted...no I needed the escape no matter how short lived it was. We were having sex nearly every day and while most times I felt like Miss Celie, I was just happy that someone wanted me. But just before Christmas break he invited me to the Chi-Town Christmas party at his homeboy’s new place and I wish I had read the signs. He said it was couple’s only, sign #1. Naïve 19 year old me thought nothing of it. When we arrived, the house was completely dark except for a make shift strobe light, sign #2. And a shot of no one knows what and 4 drags on the blunt was required before you could get past the foyer, sign #3.
I don’t remember everything I saw, but I remember Do or Die playing loudly and trying to step over bodies. I was so uncomfortable. Then his homeboy said, “the virgin” is here. I didn’t think he was talking about me because I was certainly not a virgin, but that should have been sign #4. They all got up and stared at me some smiling, some glaring but staring nonetheless. They decided to play a game of truth or dare. I opted out because I knew that whatever was about to happen was way beyond my level. Everyone nodded because I could tell they felt the same way. This truth or dare was like nothing I had ever witnessed. All questions pertained to something or someone in the room, and every dare was either nudity or a sexual act to be performed in front of the group with partners exempt from the one they came with; sign #5-10.
I was quieter than a church mouse, and I guess they figured I should have built up my understanding to the rules so the dares got personal. My current’s ex, (who was now with his best friend and everyone was cool with this sign #11) was dared to give him a 5 minute blow job while fingering herself, and whomever cums first gets it licked/sucked up by the other. I just knew he was gonna be like “can’t do it, my girl’s right here etc etc” but not today. She crawled, yes I said crawled over to him, unzipped his pants and went to work. Did I mention all she had on was a bra and panties? Everyone was staring, and it wasn’t until she came and he had to “clean up the mess” did I realize I was crying. I grabbed my keys and ran out of there. I unlocked my car and sat in the driver’s seat for a moment waiting for him to come out after me, but I realized about 5 minutes later that he wasn’t coming, so I left.
When I arrived in the café, the next morning for breakfast he was sitting at my table looking pitiful. He kept telling me he was sorry and that he didn’t leave because he didn’t want his friends to think he was soft. I had never told my friends what happened because I was too embarrassed, but I wish I had and maybe they would have saved me from making the next mistake…taking him back.
Christmas break went by, and we talked weekly. I couldn’t wait to get back to school to see him and he claimed to feel the same. That month seemed like forever. We were together all the time. By the time we got back, my birthday was rapidly approaching. He and my best friend had gone shopping and they had picked out the perfect gift to solidify our relationship. The suspense was killing me, but the day had finally come. He told me he wasn’t gonna see me at all that day until 5pm so our date could begin. I got my hair and nails done. I bought a new outfit and I hung out with his homeboy because he was supposed to escort me to surprise #1.
While I got ready his homeboy and I talked and joked around, and he kept saying, “I didn’t know you were so cool and I can’t believe he got you.” We both laughed. After I finished I noticed his homeboy staring at the floor. I said, “I’m ready.” And he looked at me, and said, “You’re a nice girl and you don’t deserve this.” I didn’t know what he meant so I asked “what do you mean?” He said, “do you know where your man is right now?” I said, “No, but I’m sure he’s getting ready for my birthday surprise.” He said, “Surprise yes, but YOU aren’t his top priority right now.”
I froze. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, “take me to him.” He walked me over to one of the other girl’s dorms and he gave me the room number. It looked so familiar but I didn’t know why. We snuck in the side door, got on the elevator. When we got to the fourth floor my feet automatically knew where to go, because I had been here before. Instead of knocking, I just pushed open the slightly cracked door. And there he was naked in bed with my friend.
Happy Birthday!
So here I sit wondering what didn't I do? What didn't I give him? What's wrong with me? AGAIN.
If the same thing happens to you twice, it must be you right?
He and I were friends in my opinion and when I introduced him as such he pulled me to the side and said, "so is this all we are?" I was like, "yeah, because you never asked me for more than my friendship." He got angry stormed off, but when we were leaving the party and I was dropping him off at his dorm, he turned and asked me to be his girlfriend."
I was kinda stunned because we had ridden home in complete silence. I looked him in his eyes and said, "I'll think about it and get back with you tomorrow or the next day." (I'm a firm believer in if you want more than friendship you better ask me straight up or you'll never have anything more)He got out of the car and said, "please don't make me wait forever." I smiled, and drove off.
Nevertheless by November 3rd we were officially an item. And by November 9th he was raping me in his dorm room. But somehow he managed to convince me that I wanted it and he didn't hear me say stop. He went on to say that someone like him would never have to rape anyone. I couldn't deny that girls were running after him. He went on to say that I should feel lucky that he had chosen me. Cliche huh?
Well needless to say, the relationship continued on and I picked up an excessive drinking habit. I wanted...no I needed the escape no matter how short lived it was. We were having sex nearly every day and while most times I felt like Miss Celie, I was just happy that someone wanted me. But just before Christmas break he invited me to the Chi-Town Christmas party at his homeboy’s new place and I wish I had read the signs. He said it was couple’s only, sign #1. Naïve 19 year old me thought nothing of it. When we arrived, the house was completely dark except for a make shift strobe light, sign #2. And a shot of no one knows what and 4 drags on the blunt was required before you could get past the foyer, sign #3.
I don’t remember everything I saw, but I remember Do or Die playing loudly and trying to step over bodies. I was so uncomfortable. Then his homeboy said, “the virgin” is here. I didn’t think he was talking about me because I was certainly not a virgin, but that should have been sign #4. They all got up and stared at me some smiling, some glaring but staring nonetheless. They decided to play a game of truth or dare. I opted out because I knew that whatever was about to happen was way beyond my level. Everyone nodded because I could tell they felt the same way. This truth or dare was like nothing I had ever witnessed. All questions pertained to something or someone in the room, and every dare was either nudity or a sexual act to be performed in front of the group with partners exempt from the one they came with; sign #5-10.
I was quieter than a church mouse, and I guess they figured I should have built up my understanding to the rules so the dares got personal. My current’s ex, (who was now with his best friend and everyone was cool with this sign #11) was dared to give him a 5 minute blow job while fingering herself, and whomever cums first gets it licked/sucked up by the other. I just knew he was gonna be like “can’t do it, my girl’s right here etc etc” but not today. She crawled, yes I said crawled over to him, unzipped his pants and went to work. Did I mention all she had on was a bra and panties? Everyone was staring, and it wasn’t until she came and he had to “clean up the mess” did I realize I was crying. I grabbed my keys and ran out of there. I unlocked my car and sat in the driver’s seat for a moment waiting for him to come out after me, but I realized about 5 minutes later that he wasn’t coming, so I left.
When I arrived in the café, the next morning for breakfast he was sitting at my table looking pitiful. He kept telling me he was sorry and that he didn’t leave because he didn’t want his friends to think he was soft. I had never told my friends what happened because I was too embarrassed, but I wish I had and maybe they would have saved me from making the next mistake…taking him back.
Christmas break went by, and we talked weekly. I couldn’t wait to get back to school to see him and he claimed to feel the same. That month seemed like forever. We were together all the time. By the time we got back, my birthday was rapidly approaching. He and my best friend had gone shopping and they had picked out the perfect gift to solidify our relationship. The suspense was killing me, but the day had finally come. He told me he wasn’t gonna see me at all that day until 5pm so our date could begin. I got my hair and nails done. I bought a new outfit and I hung out with his homeboy because he was supposed to escort me to surprise #1.
While I got ready his homeboy and I talked and joked around, and he kept saying, “I didn’t know you were so cool and I can’t believe he got you.” We both laughed. After I finished I noticed his homeboy staring at the floor. I said, “I’m ready.” And he looked at me, and said, “You’re a nice girl and you don’t deserve this.” I didn’t know what he meant so I asked “what do you mean?” He said, “do you know where your man is right now?” I said, “No, but I’m sure he’s getting ready for my birthday surprise.” He said, “Surprise yes, but YOU aren’t his top priority right now.”
I froze. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, “take me to him.” He walked me over to one of the other girl’s dorms and he gave me the room number. It looked so familiar but I didn’t know why. We snuck in the side door, got on the elevator. When we got to the fourth floor my feet automatically knew where to go, because I had been here before. Instead of knocking, I just pushed open the slightly cracked door. And there he was naked in bed with my friend.
Happy Birthday!
So here I sit wondering what didn't I do? What didn't I give him? What's wrong with me? AGAIN.
If the same thing happens to you twice, it must be you right?
Why I am the way I am when it comes to relationships Pt. 1
Is withholding information the same as lying? Is it dishonest? Does it make or break a relationship, friendship, or partnership of any kind?
Recently, I was talking to Pooh and he said that as an attorney he does NOT believe that withholding information is lying and my soror who is also an attorney completely agrees. What we agree on specifically is that someone with whom you have not made a verbal commitment of full disclosure should not be upset when he/she finds out things about you that they didn't know regardless of how close you are.
I honestly, do not believe that I know everything about the 5 most important people in my life whom I love dearly and would do most anything for. And I'm not mad at them for that, especially when I know they don't know everything about me even things that are of relative importance. I don't share a lot of things because I don't want to be judged. Also, some of my life choices were/are not wise. Thirdly, I'm just embarrassed.
I was analyzing this over that last couple of months and I came to the conclusion that I must have self esteem issues. (As if I haven't known this since I was in preschool)
For example, of all the girls in my family I was the one who was sexually abused by various family members. Just me, and I have to wonder what did I do wrong or what's wrong with me? When I finally found the courage to tell no one cared. My great grandmother told me never to lie, but when I was honest it always seemed to get me no where. So while lying seemed like the better alternative, I just chose to withhold or remain silent instead. (no pun intended)
I have never known my father, but he had time to raise 4 or 5 kids just not me. So you could say I have daddy issues...MAJOR ones.
I think this is where the tomboy in me comes from. I figure if males accept me they won't abuse me. They would see me as an equal and not the lesser or weaker sex. I would have some sanctuary.
I can't think of one healthy relationship I have been in or even seen for that matter. My grandfather cheated, my step-father, and my uncle by marriage. My other uncle by marriage was in the "game" and got murdered but all of that aside he was a great husband and father, but I still don't consider that healthy. My eldest uncle moved away and then got married and the few instances I've been around them, he had to tell his wife what to do and leave her notes with instructions. She was a stay at home mom and he controlled the family finances to the penny and that's not healthy to me either. Marriage is or at least should be a partnership even if one of the partners chooses to stay at home and raise the family.
Now, I can truthfully say my youngest uncle and his wife seem to have a healthy marriage, but when I say I haven't seen it; it is because they lived away while I was growing up and imprinting my ideas of relationships. So I can't really make a call on it.
Which brings me front and center. Every relationship I have ever been in has been somewhat destructive; whether it was physical or emotional it just was. From the senior I dated freshman year of high school to my "high school sweet heart" who would become my son's father. Let's not forget the jerks in between, who made me feel inferior, because I was smart. Each one of them tainted me on what men were/would be like. I was looking for something and none of them provided such.
So I guess I will start with my son's father.
We started dating in 11th grade. He was so adorable to me and very under the radar something I still find enticing. He was nice and sweet and so funny. He treated me like a princess. Carrying my books, walking me to class, and taking me out every Saturday. Every summer he bought me school clothes I in turn went to all his games both football and basketball. I tutored him in English to keep him eligible.
It wasn't until the end of Senior year that everything started going haywire. Three week prior to prom, I find out he had been cheating on me with a freshman. She came to me and asked me if he and I were still together and when I said yeah. She spilled her guts about the whole situation showing me letters he'd written her ticket stubs from movies I knew he had seen with me on different days. And when I confronted him all he could say was "I'm sorry." So I ended it.
I had other options for dates, but his mom begged "on his behalf" for me to take him back and go to prom with him. She agreed to pay for all of my prom expenses from hair and nails to my dress and shoes no matter what the cost.
And I did still love him and he did seem sorry. Begging for forgiveness over the school intercom, notes, etc. And I took him back. Prom was cool and we had a lot of fun actually.
It wasn't until 2 weeks after graduation, that I became ill. So ill that I was bed ridden. When my grandparents who had already tried every home remedy in the book couldn't get me better they finally took me to the hospital only to find out that I was pregnant and the baby was killing me. I told him, and asked him what he wanted to do. I wanted an abortion he didn't. I went to the doctor and when I heard that heart beat I was done. A baby was on the way.
I decided that I would delay college for a year and have the baby. He decided he wasn't waiting and left for the school I had chosen. It hurt a lot because I only considered the motherhood option because he promised to be with me through all of this. I was depressed and my aunt invited me to come live with her and her daughter in Cali, so I moved.
By the time I was 7 1/2 months. He and I were in a relationship, though now I believe it was more because of the baby than me. I called him and he was acting strange. I mean, we talked regularly but this time he seemed evasive and distant. I pressed the issue and that's when he hit me with a jab. "I got you pregnant on purpose. I put a hole in the condom. I did this so you wouldn't break up with me again. But now I'm not sure if I even want this or you." And he hung up. I didn't process what he said for at least an hour. To say I was hurt doesn't do it justice. I mean here I am trying to deal with the physical and emotional changes, my educational sacrifices and this is the bullshit I'm hearing after all this time.
My friend Misty would write me every week and once I had told her what happened she went on to tell me everything she knew. She said she didn't want to upset me while I was pregnant, but she had seen him with the other girl. I didn't call him or vice versa. I even started seeing someone else, nothing serious just someone to hang out with from time to time.
About 1 week from my due date, I went in for my last prenatal ultrasound and they hit me with another jab. They could see a growth on the baby's abdomen and he would have to be checked right after he was born. First him, now the baby. I contemplated calling him, but I didn't. I wanted to have just cause before dialing his number for any reason.
On January 28th, he was born 10lbs 9oz 22 1/2 inches of what seemed like nothing but perfection for me. However within the hour he was diagnosed with cancer. They called in a pediatric oncologist and the surgery would have to take place soon in order to ensure that it doesn't spread. So 11 days later he would have surgery and there were no guarantees. I thought his father had the right to know and be there.
I called him and told him everything. I explained to him that his son will need a blood transfusion and since they shared a rare blood type of O, they were universal donors but can only receive from another O person so he would need to be here. My family offered to pay for his round trip flight, meals, and hotel. He said his girlfriend wouldn't approve so "good luck with that". And he hung up.
I kept asking myself what did I do and how bad of a person am I that I couldn't manage to maintain a relationship with the father of my child. It took a very long time to realize it was his loss and not mine.
There is so much more to this saga, but there is no drama. We haven't spoken since our son's 1st birthday. His son wants a relationship with him (something I will never deny him of) and he doesn't make the effort. He's married with 5 other children to someone I went to school with so he claims they're his priority. I refused child support because I don't believe a man should be forced to take care of his responsibilities.
I just teach my son to be a good man. And when he's older he can make a decision on who his father really is and I never speak ill of him. I've just become accustomed to the notion that I am mommy and daddy. And I'm good with that, but I can't say it hasn't left me slightly tainted.
Momma's baby daddy's maybe.
Depression
I was talking to someone important to me and they told me they believe they’re depressed. Now I had to take a double take when he said it because this is the same person who laughed at me when I confessed that I was depressed and I feel like I don’t know who I have become. Wow. So, I sat back and listened to him continue on about his situation and I honestly felt sympathetic, because more than he will ever understand I understood him. But I couldn’t help but periodically think to myself, why is this concept so conceivable now, but when I confided in him he blew me off? Not to mention that he told me I need to toughen up. Hmmmm...(For future reference it’s never a good idea to tell someone who is or believes they maybe depressed to “toughen up”. That confirms the feelings of uselessness and helplessness.)
He went on to say how he had looked up the symptoms of depression and realized that he identified with nearly all of the symptoms both physical and emotional. I, in turn, looked them up and I can honestly say I do see it in him. I can’t lie, I didn’t say anything 1st because he was trying to come face to face with his issues and 2nd because I didn’t know exactly what to say. But there is a 3rd reason and that’s because I was pissed by the way he now wants me to understand and accept his behavior.
So, I attempted to offer him some advice like: going to see a doctor and maybe getting on some meds temporarily and he goes on this tirade about how he doesn’t like doing that, and how he’s too strong for that. Again I got pissed because I did go and see someone and I did take meds for about a month and he knew that. I felt like he was taking another shot at me. He even went on to say well when you were (and he did the air quotations) depressed your reasons weren’t like mine. You can get over that. I felt some kind of way about it, and it hurt me. However, I didn’t react; I just got out of the car and went to work. I just didn't understand and I was angry.
As I sit here writing this, I’ve had time to think and synthesize the whole conversation. Devaluing someone else’s problems or situations is a selfish act. And focusing on his reaction to my admission was wrong, but he belittling me and my choice of treatment was no better. This drives me to believe that we are unsuitable to be in each others lives as friends or otherwise. Why? Because this is constant with us, he doesn’t sympathize with me unless he deems it worthy and every time I try to be of assistance to him, he tells me all the ways I am wrong. He no longer shows interest in the things of importance to me and I’ve started being so vengeful and acting the same way towards him. That is childish and wrong. I have even gotten to the point where I don’t even try to help or tell him anything because I don’t want to fight about it. I’m tired of going to useless war fronts when there are other things I could be doing. “You can’t fight with someone if you’re the only one in the ring.” I’m forfeiting the fight. I’m tired.
He went on to say how he had looked up the symptoms of depression and realized that he identified with nearly all of the symptoms both physical and emotional. I, in turn, looked them up and I can honestly say I do see it in him. I can’t lie, I didn’t say anything 1st because he was trying to come face to face with his issues and 2nd because I didn’t know exactly what to say. But there is a 3rd reason and that’s because I was pissed by the way he now wants me to understand and accept his behavior.
So, I attempted to offer him some advice like: going to see a doctor and maybe getting on some meds temporarily and he goes on this tirade about how he doesn’t like doing that, and how he’s too strong for that. Again I got pissed because I did go and see someone and I did take meds for about a month and he knew that. I felt like he was taking another shot at me. He even went on to say well when you were (and he did the air quotations) depressed your reasons weren’t like mine. You can get over that. I felt some kind of way about it, and it hurt me. However, I didn’t react; I just got out of the car and went to work. I just didn't understand and I was angry.
As I sit here writing this, I’ve had time to think and synthesize the whole conversation. Devaluing someone else’s problems or situations is a selfish act. And focusing on his reaction to my admission was wrong, but he belittling me and my choice of treatment was no better. This drives me to believe that we are unsuitable to be in each others lives as friends or otherwise. Why? Because this is constant with us, he doesn’t sympathize with me unless he deems it worthy and every time I try to be of assistance to him, he tells me all the ways I am wrong. He no longer shows interest in the things of importance to me and I’ve started being so vengeful and acting the same way towards him. That is childish and wrong. I have even gotten to the point where I don’t even try to help or tell him anything because I don’t want to fight about it. I’m tired of going to useless war fronts when there are other things I could be doing. “You can’t fight with someone if you’re the only one in the ring.” I’m forfeiting the fight. I’m tired.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
3312010
It’s been 350 days 5 hours and 1 minute since my heart realized it was in love with you
But it has only been 90 days 3 hours and 14 minutes since my head conceded to what my heart has known for quite some time.
Yet I have spent the last 252 days 8 hours and 16 minutes trying to get rid of you
I have made love to another man
I have told him I love him
But it’s your face I’m seeing
It’s to you I’m confessing
Because I can never find the nerve to say it to you
I don’t feel worthy
To have you
To love you
To have you love me
I belong to someone else
But I want to belong to you
I have never wanted and needed someone
I’ve wanted someone
I’ve thought I needed someone
But never both simultaneously
Until I met you
You’re like air to me
Without you I would cease to exist
I would trade all of my possessions to have a lifetime of love with you
209 days 16 hours 33 minutes ago you shattered my world
When you told me you met someone else
And she was a “good girl”
I shared in your joy on the outside
While my insides resembled a nuclear warfare playground
I had never felt so much pain in my life
But it confirmed what I always knew
The way I felt for you was not healthy
So I threw myself into him
Yet 166days 23 hours 45 minutes ago I found myself in your arms
I never gave a second thought about “her”
Whether “she” was still in your life
I just knew that there was no other place in the world for me
I don’t like having no control of my feelings
I haven’t sincerely smiled since the last time I saw you
165 days 10 hours and 44 minutes ago
I decided I would put you out of my life forever
Because I realized I would never be happy without you
And I no longer existed for myself, but for you
And that’s not fair
I only lasted 14 days 22 hours 19 minutes
Before I had to hear from you,
Because I felt like I was smothering.
I cried everyday and every night,
I didn’t eat or sleep
I made my self so sick my fever was 102
13 hours and 30 minutes ago I lay awake in my bed
Missing you like water in the desert
Needing you like a car needs an engine
Feeling for you like a baby for his mother
I’m imprisoned to my feelings for you
And I don’t know how to break free.
Maybe I can start from today and rid my life of you
1 minute ago you texted me
Here we go again.
But it has only been 90 days 3 hours and 14 minutes since my head conceded to what my heart has known for quite some time.
Yet I have spent the last 252 days 8 hours and 16 minutes trying to get rid of you
I have made love to another man
I have told him I love him
But it’s your face I’m seeing
It’s to you I’m confessing
Because I can never find the nerve to say it to you
Infinite times I’ve imagined the possibilities
Infinite times I’ve denied the possibilitiesI don’t feel worthy
To have you
To love you
To have you love me
I belong to someone else
But I want to belong to you
I have never wanted and needed someone
I’ve wanted someone
I’ve thought I needed someone
But never both simultaneously
Until I met you
You’re like air to me
Without you I would cease to exist
I would trade all of my possessions to have a lifetime of love with you
209 days 16 hours 33 minutes ago you shattered my world
When you told me you met someone else
And she was a “good girl”
I shared in your joy on the outside
While my insides resembled a nuclear warfare playground
I had never felt so much pain in my life
But it confirmed what I always knew
The way I felt for you was not healthy
So I threw myself into him
Yet 166days 23 hours 45 minutes ago I found myself in your arms
I never gave a second thought about “her”
Whether “she” was still in your life
I just knew that there was no other place in the world for me
I don’t like having no control of my feelings
I haven’t sincerely smiled since the last time I saw you
165 days 10 hours and 44 minutes ago
I decided I would put you out of my life forever
Because I realized I would never be happy without you
And I no longer existed for myself, but for you
And that’s not fair
I only lasted 14 days 22 hours 19 minutes
Before I had to hear from you,
Because I felt like I was smothering.
I cried everyday and every night,
I didn’t eat or sleep
I made my self so sick my fever was 102
13 hours and 30 minutes ago I lay awake in my bed
Missing you like water in the desert
Needing you like a car needs an engine
Feeling for you like a baby for his mother
I’m imprisoned to my feelings for you
And I don’t know how to break free.
Maybe I can start from today and rid my life of you
1 minute ago you texted me
Here we go again.
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