About Me

Friday, April 9, 2010

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?

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