I’ve shed all the tears my eyes were willing to give
They’ve swollen from how much they’ve had to bawl
You are my heart
I always expected that you and I would weather every storm
I am vulnerable and humble
Because watching you leave would see my whole world crumble
I changed and got carried away
I look at this new guy and it drives me insane
I had my hand on the pulse of what made you happy
I couldn’t believe a day I wouldn’t be able to call you baby
There is still hope
However little left
I’m willing to keep on the fight till my last breath
You might not understand what it means to have you
But understand this
Till tomorrow I haven’t found anyone like you
It’s taken me this long to realize you are the one
But I’m willing to do everything in my power to let the fire burn
I’m asking for one last chance to say yes
My pride and my fears
I’ve seen are baseless
You found me out when no one knew me
You pissed me off without warning
And it was cool to me
I don’t want to lose you
I hope you know
And if I ever failed
It was because the true love I have for you
I didn’t show
Here I am
Freezing in this cold
The only thing burning are the candles that spell your name in bold
Forgive me and let me make you happy again
Forgive me for the horrible things I said
I’m ready to be the one you truly adore
But please don’t let this fire burn out
One by one
Everything won’t be easy
If I said it would
That would be a lie
All I’m asking from you
Can you please try?
Sometimes it’s not forgetting or failing to realize how important what you have is that can be the problem but not doing enough to hold on to it when it’s slipping away.
“Try” was written by me to speak to the struggles of relationships I have that are either toxic or invaluable. We all have a variety of those but which ones can you not live without and what are you doing to keep them. I have let many “leave” my life this year because I was dealing with a significant amount of depression and the consequences of some of the mistakes I made but time passed and I held on to that which is important to me. I don’t know what you have right now in your life that needs the extra push, it’s needs a bit more effort, more dedication, it needs that “I’m sorry”. Reach out and TRY. It’s the best you can do and the only way to ensure regret doesn’t ruin you.
I had to keep the faith that I wasn’t going to be blind. It was tough to do when I was given only a 13% chance of seeing with both eyes again. It was terrifying and I could not have gotten through those days without the help of my sister. She was everything to me throughout that period. She would leave and I could always bank on her coming back to be by my side. I still can’t count how many days she spent at my bedside while I was in the hospital. She would come in the evening and work on her own stuff while she turned on audiobooks or music for me to listen to.
In a real period of literal and emotional darkness in my life, she was a beaming light.
The days got harder and harder as they passed by.
With each passing day, I would wonder if she thought about me. I still could not make sense of it all.
Why did she not come?
Nights in the hospital were the hardest. I was slowly getting better physically and gaining more strength in my limbs but my heart still hurt and I wasn’t sure how to put a stop to it.
The surgery came and I was nervous. I remember my sister being with me and holding my hand a few hours before.
“Jerome, it’s going to be fine. I promise.
I’ll be here when you get out”
Her words were reassuring but they were still only words.
Ever been in a situation where someone you loved was telling you it was going to be okay, even when they didn’t seem to believe it?
She was scared and I couldn’t see her face but I could tell that she was terrified. She was just trying to stay strong for me like I would have for her and I truly appreciated that.
She was there till they wheeled me away into the OR, letting go of my hand right before the door. I remember lying under the lights that focused on me. I could hear the sparks inside the wires connected to them buzzing as the electricity flowed through them.
I remember feeling like I was going to see again. It felt like it was just a matter of opening my eyes wide and the pictures would come in. I began to imagine the places I wanted to go and the things I wanted to see in the world should I be able to again.
I was thinking of the Great Wall of China, being on a Safari out in Malawi or skiing the Alpines in Aspen. I wanted to take in the world!
I was taking it all in and then I felt the anaesthetic hit and then sleep followed. I was out.
I woke up about 7 hours later with my eyes still covered but the doctor was there to deliver some of the best news I had received in a long time.
“Sir, the surgery went well; better than we expected. We were able to remove majority of the pieces of glass in your left eye and we expect a full recovery there. We are not sure about your right eye just yet but it seems like there might be some vision there and it might not be a full capture of things you see but you may still be able to see out of it.”
He paused to make sure I heard everything and to let my sister take it all in.
“We are still concerned about your right eye. The most delicate shard of glass is still in a very serious position but the nerve is sending signals to your brain again, so we are sure it is functioning. In the meantime till we re-evaluate, no physical or strenuous activity. No contact sports and no outrageous manly things. Just taking it easy, okay?”
“Okay doc. Thank you”
I responded and thanked him as he left the room. My sister was dancing around the room and singing. I couldn’t help but smile. It was like God decided to have mercy on me.
I was going to see the world again. But I wasn’t ready for the scars I would see.
. . . . .
My health insurance offered me different kinds of therapy to deal with recovering from the incident.
I was still very depressed and quite upset about feeling abandoned by people I considered my family. So I began seeing a therapist.
It was in therapy that I knew how much Jacques and Tasha not being there really hurt me. Talking about my feelings helped me recognize that I was more hurt than I realized. I was convinced Tasha had another man in her life. It was the only logical explanation for her behaviour.
Jacques and I had seen things together. Like the types of things we had seen and done together were the type that if one of us snitched to the authorities, we could end up in jail. We were that close. So to find out that he only came to see me in the hospital one time was a very hard pill to swallow. One particular incident surrounding that championship game and the week leading up to it, brought us so much closer than we ever were. I was truly let down by them both but I they weren’t blood so I guess that always left the possibility that they could turn on me at some point or under the “right” circumstances.
I was leaving therapy one evening when I felt this barrage of memories shared with Tasha flooding into my head. The one that stood out the most was the day I realised I was in love with her and that I was going to do right by her no matter what it took.
It was a hot Saturday evening, I arrived at the park down the street from her house 5 minutes ahead of the time I had actually told her to be ready.
I called her feeling like she might be late and of course late she was.
“Are you ready?”
I asked with a slight tone.
she responded in her baby voice she used whenever she wanted to get away with something
“I’m just putting on finishing touches. I’ll be down in a minute”
she concluded with.
I clicked the phone and hung up. A minute turned to 20 minutes and we were now running late. I was upset. Not entirely at her but myself.
How could I think she would be ready in time?
How many of you know any women that actually get ready on time? It’s always something with them from making sure they comb the nappy hairs under their weaves to ensuring their ankles aren’t ashy; they always run late.
She walked out of her house in a stunning red dress. I had to catch myself. I was trying to stay angry that she made us late but I knew it wasn’t going to work.
She got into the car and said hi with a smile on her face. She knew I was upset.
Staying quiet for a few miles as I drove, she touched my shoulder and I turned towards her. All she did was whisper,
and I was gone. I was so weak for her. Women are experts at using their “assets” spoken and silent to get men feeling some type of way.
We arrived at the club where my friend was performing his new music. It was small and intimate. We greeted him and sat in the middle of the floor with enough space between the stage and us. We could take in the performance but not be overwhelmed by the sound.
Dinner followed shortly after the show at a restaurant down the street. It was mellow and just an open conversation as we joked and laughed through our meals. I hated what I ordered continuing my trend of ordering wrong and she was willing to share her food with me. I couldn’t stop smiling at everything she did. I kept thinking to myself about how wrong people were about her. She was amazing.
Recognize ft. Drake by PartyNextDoor
We left dinner and began driving back to her place so I could drop her off when she asked if we could stop at the store to grab some wine. And I obliged.
I was under her spell as she waltzed through the aisles and we joked in the near empty 24-hour grocery store. She knew where the wine was right when we walked in but she was just enjoying spending the night with me in the silliest way.
There was no line at the checkout and we were just being nuisances as we headed to the car.
The drive was chill. She had her legs on the dashboard as I drove and music played out the windows.
We headed to our “spot”. It was by the levy overlooking the water.
The city lights lit up the water from afar and it was always a magical sight at night. I pulled up to the side with my car facing the water.
The music was playing slowly in the background as we just talked. I can’t remember what led to it but we began kissing. In the middle of it, I saw some lights headed towards my car.
I stopped as a security guard pulled up next to my car.
The cabin of the car was dark, so I turned on the inner lights so he could see.
“I’m not supposed to let anyone park here overnight”
I smiled and responded,
“We’re not parking here overnight bro. We’re just taking in the view and talking. We’ll leave soon”
he said okay and headed on his way.
Out of nowhere Tasha grabbed my shirt and pilled me in for a very hot kiss. I was taken aback.
“What was that for?”
She looked at me with a sly smile on her face and said,
“you just looked so sexy talking to him. I had to kiss those lips…”
I smiled, thanked her for the compliment and leaned back in my seat. And then she said,
“How cool would it be if we had sex right here, right now?”
I was surprised. I thought I was the freak in the relationship
I began to respond, visibly caught off guard by the question. And then she cut me off.
“Do you still have that blanket in your trunk?”
I nodded and she continued,
“Can you please get it and fuck me on the hood of your car?”
My balls shriveled up. My shaft straightened. My senses woke up. My eyes grew bigger.
“Are you sure you want to have sex here with Tommy the Security guy driving around?
“Have I ever complained about having an audience before?”
She was referring to the night we had sex in the park by her parent’s house and some folks were playing on the play structure.
I turned off the car and opened the trunk. I hopped out and she followed.
I walked to the front of the car with the blanket in my hand and laid it on the hood, using the windshield wipers as clips to hold the two top corners down.
I turned around and she kissed me. She wanted this, I could tell.
She leaned back onto the hood of the car that was very hot at the time. It must have warmed up the blanket. She climbed up as I knelt down and spread her legs. I slowly pulled her panties down and tossed them upward onto the windshield.
I kissed her inner thighs towards her pink. I softly kissed her lower lips as they kissed me back moistly. I began to work my tongue around her clit without maintaining pressure on it. She knew what I was going for. I wanted to make her beg for it as she got super wet.
I could tell she wanted more. So I parted her lips and stuck my tongue inside. The taste of her fresh wetness had me lapping up for more. I was slurping while trying to ensure I didn’t miss anything and I was failing as her juices flowed onto my beard and drenched them.
The feel of her lips on my lips and her juices on my chin were causing my shaft to stand firm. And then she stopped me and turned around. On her fours, on the hood of my car, she poked her ass in the air and slowly said,
“I want you to eat me like this”
A woman that can ask for what she needs when it comes to sex will stay winning. She got a little wetter and just like you guys, I got much harder.
I leaned in and bent my knees to come down to her level and I grabbed her ass cheeks and spread them. I shoved my tongue into the warmth of her soaked lips. She moaned as she grabbed the blanket. I was low behind with my face shoved between her cheeks that I could not see her face. Her moans sent the message clearly though.
I was struggling to breathe as her still flowing juices covered my nostrils, my lips, my chin and all over my beard but I was not going to quit. She reached back and pushed my head inwards. I took it as a license to stick my tongue deeper inside her.
I stood up and dropped my pants. Slapping the head of my shaft on her clit, I slowly slid into her. It was so hot in there.
Covering up my shaft with each stroke, she was really wet. She grabbed onto the sheets with both hands as I slid in and out. It felt amazing and I had to use all the will power I had to not bust that early one. I began to think about random things like my phone bill and Nascar while maintaining my stroke.
Her moans continued to bring me back to the present though.
I was picking up the pace and thrusting deeper while grabbing her waist. The way she moaned made it impossible for me to even think of lasting much longer. I knew it was only a matter of time before I let loose.
The breeze blew by occasionally, freezing up my ball sack as I continued to go deeper. I leaned forward and kissed her back as I picked up the pace. She knew what was about to happen and then she said,
“Fuck me harder, fuck me!”
There was something about her saying that, that always drove me insane. I knew I wanted to give her more but her juicebox was so good, I only hoped I could get seconds. The men out there know what I mean.
I was thrusting harder now and she was moaning all sorts but what stood out the most was right before I was about to cum when she said
“Do not fucking cum! Keep fucking me! Harder!!!”
Now any guy in the world knows that hearing that is just going to send him off the edge. I clenched my butt cheeks as I thrust and hoped I could ride out that wave without cumming. I failed. A few thrusts later as her ass slapped back onto my pelvis, I pulled out. A few more tugs and it was all over the floor.
She got off and gave me this super warm kiss while stroking my shaft and then she did the craziest thing. She dropped down on her knees and took my semi hard member into her mouth. The sensation was crazy!
I wanted to push her head off but she bit gently to let me know that doing that was not in my best interest. It was safe to say she sucked me dry. Then she got up. Put her panties on and then pulled her dress up. She looked at me and said,
“We have to finish part two on the my new carpet”
I pulled my pants up and smiled. I knew I had to keep this woman for good. She had me.
. . . . . .
The boredom was the hardest thing when I returned home. I was advised to not watch too much television. I couldn’t create designs for new watches on my computer because they involved sharp colors and of course a computer screen. I was forced to continue to read books and listen to music.
I also returned to walking. I would take walks down to the creek by my house to help clear my head or just get some fresh air from being cooped up in a house all day.
This particular day, I had walked over to the creek. The sun was out and beaming down on me. My back was burning in the heat as I backed the sun and my house. The weeds over the creek were dried as the summer continued to heat up the entire place. I took in the sight of some birds and a couple walking their dog before heading back home.
I was returning from the creek and the sun, which was behind me when I was there, was now in front of me. The orange and yellow texture of the sun was strong as the sun continued to rear its head from behind the houses and refusing to set. I couldn’t see down the street but I just knew the sun was setting in front of me and blinding me.
I arrived at the front of the house and stopped for a second to check the mailbox. Nothing new. There were just a few coupons from local stores.
I let myself into the house and headed to the kitchen. I stood in front of the refrigerator with my cup and I pushed down on the lever and ice cubes began falling into my cup. They were making some noises and I couldn’t tell but I thought I heard a knock on the door. I continued putting the water into the cup.
I think I must have rushed the water I was drinking.
But my brain registered this sound. It was a knock at the door.
I walked to the door and assumed it was my sister returning and probably just being lazy and not wanting to use her key. I opened it without looking through the peephole. I held the door open with my right hand as the sunlight flooded my naked eyes. I was shocked.
It was Tasha.
It was dead silent for about a minute and then she asked,
“Can I please come in?”
I didn’t respond. I turned around and headed for the couch.
She walked in and shut the door behind her. She walked over to seat across from me in her heels and fitted black top. My pent up anger towards her suddenly turned to brief attraction. Like I just wanted to lay her across the coffee table and ravage her clit but I contained myself.
Her voice was still as silky as ever. I melted when she stated talking.
“Jerome, I want to start by saying I’m sorry”
I wasn’t accepting her apology, especially not a lame one.
“I won’t sit here and make excuses. I fucked up. I should have been by your side through it all. It was overwhelming for me. I didn’t know what was expected of me in that situation. I had never experienced a near death situation like that before. I panicked.”
I was now irritated. And I responded packed with attitude,
“You panicked for over 5 months?! That’s your excuse?
That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it because if it was me, you could bet your life I would have been right next to you when you woke up. So please spare me the fucking excuses and just stop!”
My breathing was shorter and I could feel myself sweating a bit. I was getting heated.
She bowed her head as she attempted to answer. She actually seemed sorry and for a woman who rarely apologized for anything, I was a bit surprised she was doing this.
“Jerome, you have every right to be mad at me. And to clarify, I was coming for a while till before the 3rd month off and on. I was there sometimes. A lot just happened in my life after and it was heavy stuff so I wasn’t sure how to deal with it all. You have every right to be mad at me and in fact never talk to me again. I just hope you can forgive me for not being by your side like you would have been by my side”
Like I said before, I had a huge weakness for this woman. I had been with quite a few women before but not a single one floored me like her. It was surprising that just her voice had gotten me already.
Frankly, I had forgiven her the moment I opened the door. I loved her. Like truly but I wasn’t about to give in easily, so I faked being mad some more and replied her,
“You were there sometimes?! I have always been there from day one for you and your brother. And your brother only came once too?! Like wtf? And you’re here looking for me to forgive you? Who does that?
You played your hand by not being there and I would appreciate it, i you just left me alone”
My fake performance seemed to be working. She seemed to feel like she was losing me. So she got up and walked towards me. She placed her phone, which was in her hand on the table inches in front of my legs.
She placed her hand on my lap while I held my breath.
It was that moment when you are trying to stay mad at your partner you clearly have a weakness for and they touch you. Wall of Jericho falleth!
She looked me in my eyes and said,
“Jerome there is so much we have to talk about and work on but I want you to know that I love you deeply and I am sorry”
I sighed and didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say. I was glad she was here and I knew there was more explaining to be done but I was willing to let it go for the moment. She leaned in and kissed my cheek very close to my ear. It tickled and I smiled.
She got up and walked to the bathroom.
A few seconds after the door closed behind her. Her phone buzzed and then it buzzed again. I was looking at it resisting the urge to check it but I also wanted to. What has kept her away that long? Another man?
I wanted to find out but I wanted to be secure in myself as a man. But it was right there?!
“She wouldn’t know”
I thought to myself.
I looked at it one more time. My hand itched.
I reached for it and tapped on the screen and opened it.
The messages that had come were from her brother, Jacques.
I could not believe my eyes. Was that why she stayed away? Jacques?!
What reason could he have for portraying me to be a bad guy to his sister? I might have been an asshole before but I had never shown any signs of hurting his sister. What The Heck Man!
Tasha walked out of the bathroom and towards me. She noticed a look on my face. She said,
I looked up at her and leaned back in my seat. I flashed a smile and said,
“Everything is great.”
“Revenge sometimes seems the sweetest but to get it, you might have to bleed some more first.”
The things and ways we remain similar will leave you speechless
I’ve met certain from which the encounter has left me breathless
But others I’ve met and realized that many people remain tasteless
See I’ve betrayed trust and I’ve let folks down
I’ve forgotten values and in many ways I’ve let doubt abound
Easily it comes in and shatters relationships
It puts them in a chokehold and slowly strangles the life out of them
Now we all lay lifeless and hurt from all the drama and bullshit
Hurt is one conversation I don’t want to revisit
The heart of man is desperately wicked the bible says
And I swear that plays out in unique situations everyday
Men stab men in their faces
Women aren’t too far behind in the races
See we can say our parents and the generation before us taught us better
But the truth is
Did anyone really bother?
From coups to stolen husbands
To deaths just to acquire more bands we are a lost few
Righteous today but we fade quickly like the morning dew
Did you ever understand how easy it is to lose your way?
How quickly the plot gets lost in the day to day
Some of us camp on Twitter all day
Looking for our next prey
We stalk the TL’s
Trying to pick fights from the latest dumb shit bae said today
The slander is endless
A new victim everyday
But the true victim most cases is you
Because it’s you who failed to stay true
The person you portray to the world
Should be the same across the board
Regardless of the location
Your true identity to should have no variations
But we change
And let our morals and ethics go
As we drift out of range
I’m not immune don’t get me wrong
I wrote this with a heavy heart
But so my name could be on your tongue
I swear if I could sing my feelings I would put them in a song
But the truth remains
You’ll only hear me for how long??
My heart has been broken from friends to friends
I said that twice because the difference is not clear
They are some people you’ll always go to bat for
But those are the ones you pray never ever hurt you at all
Sad to say but they are the ones that can hurt you where you can call
For help or even a reason to again stand tall
Never underestimate your influence before you mane a friend fall
Like me here crying my feelings while curled up into a ball
I heard someone I loved say horrible things about me
It broke my heart
But I only blame myself because I should have known from the start
This life is not a game
But someone has to lose and it’s a shame
I only ask that you never forget my name
Because broken hearted preventing your hurt will be my only aim
I plan on remaining the same
Truthful as possible and not on the losing side in this game
Now with this feelings I might rise to fame
But please be a true friend and always help me stay the same
I’ve never set out to hurt anyone
But I have been hurt a lot
Repeatedly in situations when betrayal or hurt was an afterthought
I don’t expect you to understand but I know you do
But you might relate if the same things has happened to you
I write this in the dark of my heart
Waiting for a spark
It’s hard to hold faith
When your heart is repeatedly torn apart.
#WhatTheHeckMan Written in my car.
Sometimes people without warning place their hearts in our hands. It is our job to keep it safe. Guarded from the problems and trials of life as best as we can. You are responsible for many you don’t even realize. Never betray the trust of someone, no matter how minute it might be. You don’t know what door you might close forever if you open the wrong wounds.
PART 2 OF SCARRED BELOW… Comes out on Saturday. Watch OUT!!!
Give me feedback. How did this make you feel? COMMENT!!!
It was hot too and kind of small. I was trying to fit.
I couldn’t get enough space to fit my upper body. And I tried to wiggle it in.
There were a few rays of light coming in.
There was just something about dark and tight spaces that got to me. I never felt comfortable in them. I was always trying to break free.
But this time I realized I couldn’t and so I wasn’t even trying to break free. I just let myself go. I had come this far and all I could do was let myself go.
It wasn’t about what I felt was wrong or right but more about what had to happen.
I felt this feeling in my stomach. It was the type you got when a police car’s light goes off behind you but you know you haven’t done anything wrong.
You still get a little nervous first right?
It was that same feeling you get in your stomach. You almost can’t control it. You just have to fall victim to the emotion as it courses through you.
I squeezed tighter. I couldn’t let go.
I couldn’t let the feeling slip. I didn’t want to because I didn’t know what came next. The uncertainty.
I slowly pulled back. I gasped for air, which we had used up in that tiny closet. It was then the emanating smell of musty socks hit and burned the hairs in my nostrils.
I looked down at her. She was looking up at me.
Her butt cheeks still firmly in my large hands, I smiled and leaned in.
Closing my eyes, I felt her lips on mine. Soft and smooth, something about their pouty nature had me wanting more. Her lips took my lips into hers as she sucked. I squeezed her butt tighter. She loved how I enveloped her.
And then break. I looked at her and said,
“ Tasha: How long are we going to keep hiding like this? I just want to tell him already. He’s my best friend. He deserves to know. It’s been two months and we keep sneaking behind his back. Look we are hiding out in his closet during his birthday party. It doesn’t feel right keeping this from him. He’s my best friend…”
“He’s my brother…”
she responded, squeezing my hand a little tighter and then continuing;
“We are still trying to figure this all out and I am crazy about you but what if he’s not ready. What if we’re not ready? I don’t think I’m ready yet. I’m really nervous baby.”
She bowed her head down in disappointment. I released her left ass cheek from my right hand and I lifted up her chin. With a warming smile I said,
“It’s okay sweetie. Don’t be nervous. I won’t rush. I’ll wait till you’re ready and then we can tell him. Take your time beautiful. Okay?”
She nodded and flashed a smile. I felt her lips touch mine as I gave her a kiss. She was beautiful even in the darkness.
“You go out first, I’ll be out in a second”
I said to her. She smiled again and opened the closet door and headed back into the crowded apartment condo; her older brother’s house warming and birthday party.
The light briefly rushed into the stuffy closet and the banging bass of the music followed closely behind.
I leaned back into the side of the closet and onto the wall. I let out a huge sigh.
Her brother was going to kill me. He was going to kill me.
I had to say it to myself again. I thought to myself about what I was doing. I wasn’t doing anything wrong per se but he deserved to know. He was my best friend.
I had been warned to stay away from her. But how many times have we been told to stay away from something but we don’t until it burns and scars us?
I was going to treat her different. I wasn’t going to break her heart. I just hoped she didn’t fuck with mine first.
. . . . .
There was nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for my brothers; Jules and Jacques.
Jules was from North Carolina and Jacques was from DR Congo but his family moved out to Atlanta when he was 12. We were teammates, turned best friends and turned brothers. Jules was the super muscle, Jacques was fast and I was the brain. I was always thinking steps ahead for the benefit of us all.
Somehow we all ended up in Arizona to play football for our college. Jules was on the defensive end of things while Jacques and I battled for the same tight end position. We hated each other that first summer we spent out there at camp but funny enough that was how we became close.
We were both really good players, blessed with an abundance of speed. We pushed each other. We hated each other as competing players for the same spot but we respected each other also. I wanted the spot and he wanted it just as bad.
We continued to go back and forth for the entire camp, switching on our aggression and determination on the field and being relaxed off it. It wasn’t until the coach let us know about 3 weeks into the season that he was keeping both of us for the season that we warmed up to each other.
Jacques was converted to an out wide receiver. The kid was fast and he had those long Congolese hands. He was for sure the hit of the team. Put anything in and around his wingspan and you could count on him to snatch it out of the air. With his speed, his jumping ability and his willingness to learn out, coach turned him into the most devastating wide receiver on the West Coast.
We ripped teams those two years we played together. I played my tight end position and I was glad we played on the team together. I was amazed at how he caught whatever was thrown his way. Whenever the plays weren’t run for me, I watched in awe of how good he was. It was only a matter of time before he was given the nickname “Octopus” because he caught everything and held on tight.
The name rung true because it was also the same way he was with girls. Reel them in, hold on tight to as many as he wanted at a time. Highest I counted in college was six at one time. Yeah, he was the real MVP.
I had met his younger sister Tasha one time while in college. His family had come down to watch us win our division title that year after missing out the year before. It was a bittersweet experience because it was also during that game that Jacques ruptured his Achilles on a bad fall that led to an opponent stomping on him. He was in a lot of pain but he held strong for his family. Jules and I were right by his side.
He caught me chatting up his sister when at his uncle’s house who also lived about 30 minutes from campus. It was his house Jacques stayed at while recovering through the summer when he was in AZ and then the beginning of the school year.
That fall was the end of Jacques footballing career, as the explosive speed he had was never recovered. His nous for the game never left but his biggest asset was gone.
He had a hard time but he channeled his hurt into his chemical engineering. It was one of the best decisions he ever made.
His family left that weekend of the Championship with Jacques repeatedly warning me to stay away from his sister.
Years had passed and he had moved back home but every time I came to visit his parent’s house like at Thanksgiving, he’d remind me that his sister was off limits. He did not want me to date her; although we had secretly been in contact but it was nothing serious.
Tasha and I were alike. Somewhat with reputations; I was called Captain Save-A-Hoe and she was well, sometimes referred to as one needing saving.
I had always cherished my relationship with the other J’s as we called ourselves, so I never truly wanted Tasha or at least made it obvious or pushed for it.
For years I had stayed away from her like her brother had asked but it all got really different when she began to intern with my company.
Lunches together and rides whenever she needed one, over that summer, we got close pretty fast.
And then I got to know her very well; on the inside she was this sweet, caring, confused and often-misunderstood young woman but on the outside she put on the glam for the world from her 3digit likes on Instagram to her popularity in the city. It was all a façade.
We used to play hide and seek a lot all over town while we avoided her friends and I avoided her brother. He had heard things about her like he was supposed to; he put a blinder to repel it all. After all, that was his sister.
It was about 6:30pm that evening when we finally made it to the front of their house. We had just closed off a long working day. She only had about 3 weeks left of her internship and that evening we were just talking.
She began by asking me what kind of woman I liked. I smiled and paused for a second thinking. I pushed the ignition button to turn off the car. The inner lights went on, she tried to hide like a vampire from sunlight.
I sat back in my seat and began to answer,
“Honestly, I just want a simple woman. One that likes to laugh, kick it, watch movies, independent, focused, caring, a good cook because I love my plantains, great body.
*I paused and smiled*
Well you know why and she has to have a round butt. One that can talk back.”
She had her head down with a smile on her face and then she responded,
“So you basically described me? Well without the butt at least”
I was taken aback not by the fact that she was being modest; she had an amazing butt and body in general but for the fact that she responded that was period.
I smiled and said,
“Well, I guess you can kinda say that”
she smiled back. And slowly looked up at me, it was then, it was then I knew for sure that I wanted her. I forgot everything Jacques had warned me about her.
I had grown fond of her and I really liked her.
It was quiet. A very quiet neighborhood; except for the bullfrogs making annoying noises from the creek behind their house.
I could see her face. She was so beautiful. I had a quick moment to second-guess myself while I paused and I think she thought I was about to chicken out. So she began to motion as if she was about to leave the car. I doubled back and placed my right hand on her left forearm.
Her skin was silky smooth but cold. She stopped and looked at me. Right then, I opened the door to the next series of events that would change everything.
I leaned in, placed my right hand between her neck and her falling hair and placed a soft kiss on her lips. It was short.
I quickly pulled back. She seemed displeased with me. So she leaned in. Grabbed me by my shirt and she kissed me so hard that my bottom lip bled inside. That was how I knew it was real. It felt like she had wanted to do it for a while.
If a woman you love has never kissed and sucked on your lip till it bled. Sigh… I’m sorry for you.
She got out of the car and pulled her pencil skirt down and swayed to the door. She turned around and blew me a kiss. I had caught serious feelings and I could feel my heart racing now. Shit.
She let herself into the house and a few seconds later the outside lights of the house went on. She must have flicked them on. I started my car and the inner lights went on. I pulled down the visor and looked at my bottom lip. There was a bit of blood on the inside. It hurt a bit but I smiled. Something about that turned me on.
It was weird looking at my own blood. If only I knew that I was bound to shed more.
. . . . .
Life Support by Sam Smith
Shards of glass were flying all over the place.
I closed my eyes as the darkness enveloped my world. I ducked my head down but I must have been too slow.
I could still hear the music blasting through the speakers but the sounds of shattering glass pierced through my ears.
Piece by piece, they rained over my head. They usually tell you that in near death situations your life flashes before your eyes, mine didn’t. Instead I thought about the things I hadn’t gotten to do yet and imagined myself in those places; skydiving, flying a plane, scuba-diving and such.
The “why am I here?” question briefly floated through my head as I tried to ensure that I made it out of there alive.
I felt a hard hit on the crown of my head as it was in a bent position.
Screeching, broken glass, sharp pains, and then it went silent and then black.
It felt tight.
Almost to the point of choking I would say. The voices were faint. I could feel them sailing through the air but not into my ears. It was like I was using my ears for the first time, more importantly, it seemed like it was the only thing working.
I stopped and slowly began to allow my brain to piece things together.
I remembered the glass and being in a car. Putting that together, I remembered the other car and it coming out of nowhere.
I remember putting one hand in front of my cousin because he foolishly wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and I remembered the hit on the bit of my head and upper part of my neck.
I signaled to my brain to make contact with my neck. But it was stiff.
In fact, a lot of my body was stiff and in one position; unmovable. Like making calls on the Sprint or MTN networks, my brain hopelessly failed to make contact with parts of my body.
I knew I was lying on my back and the room was brightly lit.
As I decided to give my brain a break from the overtime it was doing trying to make me feel sane, the pain kicked in. I could feel a throbbing in my legs, my left arm was numb and I was stiff.
There was so much I wanted to know. My mind began to race and very quickly it slowed down. I reckoned that because I felt pain in my legs, I wasn’t paralyzed. I feel them; I could feel the numbness in my arms. Sigh. I would be able to walk, I thought to myself.
Imagine trying to figure all this out in a completely dark room. I smacked my lips together and tried to talk. Right then, I felt someone touch me and say my name frantically
I kept slowly trying to talk while I heard my name even though faintly.
“Jerome! Can you hear me?!”
I slowly began to move my body. And then the voice grew lighter, it went farther away from me. I could still hear what was being said but not clearly.
“Please… some… in…. here!!!”
the person yelled into the hallway. A few minutes later, I could hear more people walk into the room. I figured nurses and maybe doctors.
I could not hear the voice of the original person; it was my baby sister Sonia.
Some voice that I didn’t know said,
I heard my sister say, “Thank you God”.
She was much like my mother. Even though she spoke no English, she worked her ass off to send my sister and I to America to get an education. She was our rock star. She still diligently sent “pocket money” she had been sending since my freshman year in college back in Arizona, it totaled a meager $100. I was averaging 50 times that at my current job as a marketing manager for watch company Magico but she still did it every month just as much as she complained about me going by Jerome in America and not Jibola like she named me. Interestingly, it warmed my heart.
The door opened again and someone walked in. Everyone else went silent. Now I could hear the machines as they beeped in harmony, the voices in the hallway were even more audible now. It was all very strange.
He pronounced my name with his Icelandic accent like it was some cheaply manufactured goat cheese.
“We are glad to have you back with us. How are you feeling? Do you remember anything about that day?”
I shook my head from side to side slowly to signal my answer.
The doctor then began talking,
“You were involved in a terrible accident and you have been in comatose state for a little over 5 months. Some key parts of your body were badly affected and while you have slowly made recoveries, there are still some parts that need more work and surgery…”
The doctor stopped talking as if to wait for my response. I slowly parted my lips. My mouth tasted bitter and my lips were very dry. I stretched them and then I called my sister,
I gathered myself and swallowed hard before asking,
“Where is Tasha?”
My sister sighed and said,
“Bro, let’s not worry about that right now. Let’s just focus on how you can now get back up and going”
I knew my sister. She was deflecting. She knew I was a very straightforward person and I would not ask questions I wasn’t ready for the answer to. I slowly opened my mouth and asked again
“Sonia, when was the last time Tasha was here?”
she knew she couldn’t lie now. It sound like she was sad as she said,
“she hasn’t been here since the second week you were admitted Jerome”
Her words stung. They pierced right through my soul. I just could not believe them but I knew they must have been the truth. My sister would never lie to me. It hurt but I couldn’t find the tears to cry.
How could the woman I loved have left me for months while she was living her life?
I was confused and feeling a sharp pain in my chest. I turned my head away from the voices that were to my left and presumably I was now facing the wall.
I couldn’t think. The doctor called my name a few times and tried to engage me. It didn’t work. I wasn’t having any of it. Why would Tasha abandon me? It made no sense.
I heard the doctor ask me to get some rest as he asked to see my sister in the hallway. I began to pay close attention to what was being said and I heard the doctor say,
“Miss, the latest scans are still not looking good. He has pieces of glass lodged inside his eyes. In particular he has one dangerously large piece sitting right on his optic nerve in his left eye. It is so delicate that it is barely functioning. It is sending signals to his brain but they are very weak. Also, what is more worrisome for us is that his right eye, which was not affected by the accident, is sending no signals to his brain. Essentially, he is blind in his right eye and till we operate on his left eye, he cannot see out of that too. “
I gasped and clutched my bed sheets. I could hear them clearly. My sister words sounded a bit muffled like her hands were covering her mouth and she asked,
“What are the chances after surgery he can see out of his left eye at least?”
The doctor’s tone was more depressed as he said,
“The specialist told me it was only about a 13% chance due to the extremely delicate positioning of the object but we’ll do our possible best.
I tuned out of their conversation. I could not be blind! I had so much to give. I felt like I had so much to live for. This was not fair. This was not supposed to happen this way.
The pain in my chest felt a lot like being stabbed repeatedly in the same spot. I could not contain it anymore. Lying on my side, the tears began to flow into the cloth that was covering my eyes.
It hit hard.
The woman I loved was gone and I could not look into her eyes ever again to take in her beauty or find out why she left. I could never hold my son or daughter and see their first smile or watch them ride a bicycle.
My brain and my eyes might have deserted each other but my heart was speaking to my eyes loud and clear. Its signals were overwhelming; I couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Get ready for another emotional roller-coaster. I promise I won’t leave you badly scarred though. Just wanting more.”
There was a time when looking up to God was how I solved my problems
Now friends have to camp at my house and go on in long conversations to address issues
There was a time when I wasn’t so vain
There was a time when my heart wasn’t in so much pain
I fell off
And life hasn’t let me go
It hasn’t let up
I write this at the moment with a huge headache
Realizing that I drifted too far away
And my new “loves” are causing me heartache
Sweet is the lure of the world
But in it’s heat we burn
And slowly bright futures bake
I won’t say that I’ve become fake
But I have to admit
Realizing I’ve slipped is much harder to take
It’s nice to know now before I self-destruct
Because for the longest time
It felt like a mission I couldn’t abort
Validations I seek from the wrong people
Some might even say I’m in the wrong circle
People and their minds can be so fickle
But you only give them reason to talk
When your backbone seems so brittle
I used to pray more
I used to yearn
For his word and his wisdom
Now I sit in church yawning consumed by boredom
I tithe when it’s convenient
Forgetting it is an essential ingredient
The last time I went to church was because I visited home
I can’t even ask God to abide in me
This is not his home
I used to be humble
Now it seems my pride has caused me to stumble
I learn new things about me everyday that I never expect
I just want God to speak to me again
Live and direct
This journey is not for the weary
And I’ve grown faint
Forgetting the intensity needed to score points in the paint
I realized a while back that I let him down
And now I’m hoping he can take me back
And turn my life around
I cannot predict the future
But I remember his promises for sure
I have fallen off
But I know he never wrote me off
Humbly I come back to you
Cleanse me and start me anew
It doesn’t matter how far you think you’ve fallen
He’ll still hold your hand and take your burden
Will I sin again after this?
But this was my cry for help to him
I had to get this off my chest
Have your way with me Lord
You know what’s best
Give me the grace to follow whole-heartedly
I know you’ll handle all the rest.
Recently, I was touched by the amazing story of a friend. The things said person had gone through, made me appreciate my life and the way things have panned out for me. I did not write this latter piece to mock their struggles but to empower them and anyone else out there. No matter what your situation or story is, you are Beautiful.
Beautiful by Mali Music
The days get harder
Plans get cloudy
The future seems father
And you’re more doubtful than when you first planned it
You start to panic
And end up looking manic
Don’t forget the backbone
And cling on tighter to your cornerstone
Cry to him louder
Your time is now
Your frown is about to turn upside down
I’m urging you to key into it
We spend so much time trying to strategize
Did factor in how much time God took to analyze
All those plans might never come to pass if your faith dies
So stoke that fire
I bet you
He hears your cry
I’ve see your drive
In any situation
I know you’ll thrive
Forget not your humble beginnings
Let them remind you of what all of this truly means
I’m not a preacher
I’m a sinner
With self doubt
But I know this struggle
And I know what it’s about
His mercies endless about
And your strength and sheer will
Will you pull you through?
The days might get gloomy and wet
But the sun in your life will never set
His eyes are on you
You’re a superstar
Believe it with me
He’ll show you how great you are
Stand strong and have faith
On him alone
Should you wait
Your time is now
His blessings, favor, grace and divine direction
On your life
Will always abound
Time and time again you surprise me
Your dedication to who you are is phenomenal
The pureness of your heart makes you the envy of many
The fact that in the middle of adversity
You let the good in you shine through
Over time I have come to know you
The real you
The one that seeks the best out of every situation
Always optimistic and full of belief
That attitude has propelled you to where you are today
On the cuff of greatness
Inside and out
You have captivated me
You know exactly when to evolve
Taking your all around beauty to the next level
You are the true meaning of beautiful
Because like fine wine
You get better with time
And you remain beautiful inside out.
Without a shadow of doubt
Give me feedback. How did this make you feel? COMMENT!!!
I stood there and she cried. I didn’t know what to say and I knew apologizing was not going to be the same. It wouldn’t have felt genuine and she hated half apologies. The only source of light still in the room was that which was coming out of my laptop. The light dimmed and then after a few minutes it went dark.
The traffic lights and the beams from the neighbouring buildings now lighted the room. We were both still sobbing but standing at opposite ends of the room. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was crying. I wasn’t sure if it was because she had stumbled on my diaries or if it’s because she had now seen the depths of my pain and it had to be addressed and that scared me. It left me feeling exposed and vulnerable.
I had spent so many years building up a wall to protect me from a day like this where the pain would be visited. I couldn’t be seen as weak, I wouldn’t let anyone or any situation make me feel vulnerable again.
Her sobbing stopped briefly and I could feel her staring at me. My eyes had now adjusted to the darkness and I felt her eyes on my skin. I wasn’t sure how to approach the situation; I didn’t know what to say. I had never prepped for a situation like this and I didn’t know the right way to approach talking.
Then it happened and she started sobbing again. She got off her seat, bent down and picked up her phone and bag. She began walking towards her room door. She stopped in the middle of the living room, now she was more visible to the eye and she said amidst her sobs;
“Efia, I get it. I really do. I just never knew it was that bad. The hate inside you is crippling. I’m not even sure how you bare to look at me.”
And then she walked into her room.
I just stood there and watched her walk away. After a few minutes, I headed to the couch. Sitting down, I ran my finger over the touchpad and the laptop lit up. I clicked on one of the first videos I made. It was during my identity crisis phase. I had nappy natural hair and I tried to desperately believe that I was Jamaican, listening to a whole lot of Bob Marley and co. I was so young and broken. I still was.
I watched a few more videos before I knocked out for the night on the couch.
. . . . . . .
My whole apartment had this empty feel about it. I could feel the silence around the room. The hallways carried this empty feel in the walls. I slowly sat up and stretched out my arms in the air as I woke up the rest of my body.
I looked around the room and the headache I had reminded me of the night before. I let out a deep sigh. Scanning myself, I noticed my makeup smeared all over my arm I slept on and the couch. I got up and patted my hair down. I headed for my mom’s room.
She was religiously always awake before everyone else was and praying. Today, there were no voices coming out of the room.
I came close and leaned my ear into the door; nothing. I knocked and heard nothing so I opened the door.
The room was neat and tidy. The bed made, the tables dusted and all her stuff gone. There was a note on the table and it indicated that she was leaving to stay at a hotel and was fine with being left alone.
I was sad that she left but I was more irritated that my dad had called me a few times. I just wanted to avoid the situation like I had done majority of the time.
I decided to shelve it and put it in the back of my mind. I had other things to worry about. I walked into my kitchen and I sat there on the island of the kitchen with a concerned look on my face. I had a decision to make. Would I be able to move on from Damien or was I going to be stuck and lose a good man in Lovell?
It had been one hell of a rollercoaster ride of emotions and I just wanted stability. Damien had showed me how important he was to me by being able to stay away but in the same breath, he scared the crap out of me because of how important he was to me. Lovell seemed like the safe bet.
He was local and was proving himself to me as the days went by. I picked up my phone and dialled Lovell’s number and asked him to come over.
If we were ever going to become something, I needed to be upfront with him.
He arrived at my place about 30 minutes later. And I explained the night before and my leaving. I told him about Damien and how much I cared about him. I let him in on some of the difficulties with my mom. He just listened. And then when I was done. He sighed deeply.
He got up from where he was sitting on the couch away from me and then he sat down next to me. He held my hand and looked at my face. He said,
“Efia, you know how much I care about you. You have captivated me and I have wanted you for myself the whole time. I understand that there are things you might have experienced before I came into the picture but I arrived wanting to be everything to you. The sad thing is I was once in a similar situation where I gave myself to someone else when I was still madly in love with another and I was stuck for many years while I wanted to be with someone else. Many of us think we can replace the one we love with a good enough replica. It might work for a while but after, the heart wants what it wants. I would be fighting a lost cause if I asked you to pick me over him when you’re not ready yet. You have to make that decision by yourself. Besides from what I have seen and how he made you feel before you returned from Sydney; nobody can love you like he can. And in regards to your mom, forgive her Efia, you’ve both been through way too much already.”
I clutched his hand tighter as I fought back tears. He was such a good man with a good heart. But he was right, my heart belonged to someone else and I had to wake up to that realization.
I gave him a long hug and a peck on the cheek and sent him on his way. He asked us to be friends and I knew we’d become great friends but I had to save some relationships first.
. . . . .
I was standing in front of my mirror in my bathroom, I was thinking of everything that happened from Damien to Lovell to my mother. I needed calm in my life. I was constantly in this heightened state and it was weighing heavy on my heart. I was replaying what Lovell said about Damien and my mother. I knew he was the one. I had known it since Sydney but I tried to down play it and now here I was, wanting this man that I knew was the piece I was missing but too stubborn to fight for him.
Who cared what he had seen at dinner?
I might have been wrong but wrong on whose account?
He had been gone for months and I was supposed to not do anything with my life. It wasn’t fair.
But playing the blame game wasn’t going to help anyone. I looked over to my right on my bathroom sink and stretched for my cell phone. I picked it up and dialled *67 before dealing his number to hide my number.
It worked and he picked up.
I stayed silent for a short minute before I started talking,
“Damien, how much longer are you going to punish me for?”
I started with. He sighed because he knew I had gotten him by blocking my number. I continued,
“It’s been months and then you just show up?! And then you hide from me. You know what I’ve been through and putting me through all this is just not fair. Why are you doing this to me?”
He gathered himself and prepared his response;
“Efia, the main reason I have stayed away is for both our benefits. You are still hurt and holding on to a lot of pain from what happened years ago. I’m not saying it’s not justified but it’s hindering you from loving me the way you should. You might be fine for a while and then it creeps in again. You’re so guarded that you can’t let anyone in and you’re so hurt that you don’t see when you’re now the one hurting people you love because you’re trying to not be hurt again. Efia, I love you and I’m scheduled to leave in 2days…”
My heart melted as he said that but then he continued,
“…but I will not agree to start a serious life with you, if you haven’t at least addressed the topic with your mother. I will not allow the cycle of hurt to go into my family. It ends here. Bye Efia”
I heard the phone click. He had hung up. I hated being hung up on with a passion but this was an exception.
That was how he got when he became really emotional. I dropped the phone and looked into the mirror at myself. Something had to give.
. . . . .
I was up all night thinking about Damien and the things he said. I was battling with his ultimatum. I hated ultimatums and being asked to do things I felt I wasn’t ready to do but when was I ever going to be ready?
All night, I gathered all the letters and notes I had written about the feelings of betrayal, hurt and pain I had felt growing up and hating my mother. It took me the whole day to realize it but I knew I had to do something. I gathered all the items and put them in a box. I was taking charge of the situation for the first time.
I texted my mother the address and asked her very nicely to join me. It was late and I didn’t expect her to show up but I also felt if she was awake, she would.
I was standing on the sand around a little campfire I had made. Next to me was a box of papers and big empty bottles.
The fire was burning high and my mother arrived next to me. We didn’t exchange pleasantries. I just started talking,
“to say I was hurt by what happened years ago would be an understatement. The feelings of betrayal and pain, defined my life and relationships. I did things. I hated myself and I hated you. I experimented with my body from men to women. I searched for something to fill that void. I searched for love. I pushed people away that got too close and I broke hearts because I could. I became engrained and accustomed to being one with hurt and it consumed me. But I am tired. I need to let this go…”
I started to cry
“I need to let this all go. So here we are…”
My tears now hindering my clear communication;
“You are going to help me put all these letters and items inside these glass bottles and together we will smash them on the rocks in the fire and let them burn. I want to let go once and for all. “
My mother and I took letter after letter, I had written way too many over the years and I stuffed them inside the jars. At the end we took a safe position like 10 ft away and began to throw the jars into the fire. It would hit the rocks and spark. And the papers would catch fire and burn. It was a significant therapeutic process.
I just needed her there with me to let go of all the hurt and pain. After the last jar, I turned awkwardly to leave not knowing what to say next. My mother quickly moved next to me and held me.
“I forgive you mama”
She rubbed my back and said
“I know baby. I know.
You are beautiful, brave and already a better woman than I ever was. I love you Efia. Thank you taking charge of your future. I wish I did.”
We stood there for a while and just listened to the waves as they hit the rocks. It was great to be there with her. I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.
. . . . . .
Like I Can by Sam Smith
The whole next day, I was physically tired from all the emotions from the weekend but more still had to be done. I had to get Damien back.
He wasn’t answering his phone again. He must have thought I was trying to convince him to stay without talking to my mother.
I knew I had to go and get him. I figured his favourite hotel, the Hilton, was where he was staying. Thankfully his hotel was not too far away; only a 17-minute drive. I got into my car and drove down there.
I walked into the lobby and told them my name. I asked the lady if he was staying there. She knew who he was;
“Ma’am, he just checked out about an hour ago. He said he had a flight to catch”
she told me.
I muttered under my breath.
I stepped outside the hotel and felt the heat slap me in the face again. It was really hot.
I looked down at my Google maps to see the directions loading up. Then I glanced at the corner of my phone screen; 17% battery life.
It was the mid-afternoon and rush hour traffic was building up. I knew I had to stop and buy gas but also rush down to the airport.
45 miles away with 17% battery during rush hour, I knew I needed a miracle. There was no way that phone was going to last that long. I began driving and then I hit the freeway and the curse of the road hit; traffic.
Damien had to return his car at 5pm, and catch his flight at 7pm. And I was stuck in traffic 38 miles away with an hour plus to drive. It was 4:30pm. I was all kinds of screwed.
I tried to remember the name directions off the top of my head but it was hard, too many new roads I had never taken before. I continued to drive as I dimmed the lights on my phone and closed all the unused apps. I had been driving for about 10mins now and even without touching the phone, the battery was down to 8%.
Now I was panicking. I didn’t know where the car rental place was nor did I know what gate he was flying out of. I didn’t know how to get to the airport to begin with!
I saw a gas station over the right side of the freeway, so I exited. I ran inside the shop mart and asked out loud,
“Do you guys have any car chargers for Android phones?”
IPhone users be quiet please. Thank you.
The guy looked at me in my pensive state and pointed at the rack with all the chargers on it.
I furiously combed through them and pulled the one I needed out. I headed to the counter and threw it down. The man looked at me like I was crazy.
“Is that it?”
he asked. I nodded back.
“Debit or credit?”
he followed up. Stupid question I thought to myself.
“It doesn’t matter.”
I snapped back slightly irritated. I rushed to my car, which also needed gas. I pulled up next to the pump. I was about to get out of the car when I noticed that there was a message on the button for regular gas that said,
“Out of regular gas”
Who the fuck was ever out of regular gas?!!!
I jumped into my car and tried to find another pump. Same message on the next one, I was beginning to feel cursed. The next pump had the same message. Every fucking pump was out of regular gas!
I hopped in the car and looked at my phone, 5% battery. I was truly scared now. I could not lose Damien for good. I just needed him. I knew it.
There was no man to love me the way he loved me. I just had to let him know that I was ready to let him in the way I should have this whole time.
As I stopped at the traffic light right before the ramp onto the freeway, I opened up the charger I just bought and plugged it in. Dead.
It didn’t work!
I just paid $7.99 for this freaking charger and it didn’t work?!
I knew I was cursed. I guess I wasn’t meant to meet up with Damien.
I was not sure about what I suppose to do. I wanted to get there as fast I could. I was weaving in and out of traffic and then I noticed another gas station further down the side of the free. I exited and bolted in.
There was a guy standing in line and just chatting up the attendant. I gave him this dirty look and then he moved out of my way.
I bought the charger and got into the car. I wasn’t sure why my battery life was going so fast but it was now down to 4%. I was now scared and ready to lose it. I opened the second charger I had bought and plugged it in. My phone buzzed to acknowledge the boost of power but then it didn’t charge. Fuck!
I got back on the road and got stuck in traffic. I was on the brink. I kept thinking about Damien. His touch, his smile, his voice, the way he walked, I kept thinking about the way he snored and denied it when he was awake or left his mouth open when he slept. I was in love with that man and I had to get him back.
The battery was at 3% when I pulled into the third gas station. Another charger bought, same effect. I guess something was wrong with the phone. But I had bought three different brands of chargers and not a single one had worked. I was losing all hope. It was now 4:52pm. There was no way; I was going to make it in time I thought.
In a brief moment of clarity, I thought to ask the attendant inside the gas station for verbal directions in case my phone finally died. In hindsight, I probably should have just written out the Google directions but who really thinks about that under pressure?
The man was kind enough to give me directions
“….when you get to the Galleria exit, there will be 3 roads. One to the left 610 N, one to the right 610 S and then one curved road that goes under the ramp. Make sure you take that one and go for about 12 lights and then make a right on to Telephone road. It will lead you to the car rental place”
I thanked the man as I bolted out of the store as I heard him yell out,
The phone was now at 2%. I was following his directions and marvelling at the craze all this had put me through. I was carefully watching my route and trying to not forget the directions the man had given me. I was now staring the Galleria exit in front of me. I remember him repeating that I not turn a certain way, I was trying to pay attention and I got closer and began to prepare to make that turn but I saw no one going down that road. There was also an airport sign, to the right. I had to make a split second decision, go with the man or the city planners that knew to put that sign there.
Like many, I ignored the great directions I had gotten so far and turned right. And turned straight onto the ramp. A large truck obstructed the view of the freeway and then the truck moved out of my way. I looked down the backed up freeway and right there, the tears began to flow. It was already 5:04pm.
I was never going to make it, I thought to myself. Damien was always on time. He always planned ahead. There was no way he was going to be late. And one of the traits that attracted me to me him initially was now something that was making me sad.
I was now crying hard. I pulled over to the side of the freeway and began to think. How could I get to the airport and at least try to stop him from leaving?
My mind was racing, my battery was dying and my friend Vicki wasn’t answering. I wanted to call Lovell but how would I call the man I was turning down to drive me to win the man I was leaving him for. It would be cruel.
And then, it clicked!
I knew someone staying in the area.
I dialled the number and it began to ring and I swear it felt like it was ringing forever. I was now thinking to myself I was sure I was never meant to see happiness. I just couldn’t explain it. The one place I had found happiness, I had managed to push away. My fears of loneliness and emptiness seemed to be actualizing. I just couldn’t catch a break and then I heard a voice,
I sat up and looked focused and said,
She stopped. She sounded taken aback by what I had just called her. I had not called her that in a long time. Years even.
“Efia baby, what’s wrong?”
I could hear the concern in her. I would normally have played tough but I couldn’t. I just let it all out,
“Maa. I’ve lost him. I’ve lost the man I love because I couldn’t forgive. I couldn’t see the great benefits of the love he showed me because I was so blinded by the hate that consumed my heart. Now he is gone mom. He is gone. Damien is gone mother. I lost him. I tried to make it down to the airport but I couldn’t. He’s gone mom. He’s….”
I started sobbing as I heard the phone beep to remind me I had critically low battery.
“It’s okay my love, where are you now? Let me come and meet you”
I told her where I was right before the phone disconnected. And then all I had to do was wait. Wait patiently while the man I loved was about to hop on a plane to the other end of the world. The thought of not seeing him gave me shivers.
It was just crazy how my mother was the only one to answer.
She showed up like 10 minutes later and I left my car on the side of the road and jumped into hers. I directed her to head for the airport. I couldn’t contain her driving. I just felt nobody except myself could go as fast as I wanted to.
My mother was driving really fast. Weaving through the now slowly moving traffic. It was now past six. I was worried he would go beyond security and that would be the end of it.
Funny how life works that my mother who I hated the most was now the one driving me to keep hold of the happiest thing in my life.
She got us there and it was 6:27pm.
I jumped out of the car and ran to the security checkpoint by the airline he was flying with. I scanned the lines and I couldn’t find him.
I couldn’t believe that I had gotten this close after everything; it truly wasn’t meant to be. And then I looked up one more time and there he was!
He had been taking off his shoes to go through the airport scanner.
My heart jumped!
I yelled out loud.
He looked backwards as if he looked in my direction but I wasn’t tall enough and even if he was looking for the voice, my 5’5 frame would have made it impossible for him to see me through the crowd.
He heard that one and stopped. Everyone in the line stopped and looked at me. I looked crazy but my brother always said,
“Love would make people do irrational and illogical things for its sake.”
Here I was in the airport making a nuisance out of myself. I could see him now facing my direction with me still hidden.
“I let hate, pain and fear, consume me. It dictated my life for the longest time. I wanted to love but I didn’t know how. And then you came along and showed me what love was about. Patient when you needed to be firm when I need a strong hand. You are everything to me Damien Brown. I would not be here embarrassing myself in front of all these people if I didn’t think it was you that I wanted and needed. Please don’t get on that plane. I need you here with me.”
I was crying and I bowed my head as I finished talking. Everyone seemed to turn and now look at him. It was like they were telling him to make his move. He took off his jewellery and placed it in the bin and he did the craziest thing. He walked through the scanner, got scanned and put all his items on! And just like that, he disappeared towards the gates for the flights.
I was so confused. I was broken.
Why would he leave?
How could he leave me?
I came here for him. I came to get him. After all I went through to get here. He still left?!
I was for sure crushed.
I turned around and headed towards the waiting arms of my mother. It had taken over a decade to arrive here but she was here. I needed her and she was right here.
I could not have believed she would be the one to hold me now. I slumped into her arms and began sobbing. She was tearing up too.
She held me close and ran her hand down the back of my head and neck. It was soothing and it was what I needed as people thought we were a mother and daughter weeping the departure of a loved one.
She was holding me close and then her crying began to stop. I could feel a change in her hold on me.
And she slowly let me go… I didn’t want to be let go off.
She pulled back and I looked at her with confusion. I was about to speak when I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I didn’t turn around,
“The power of forgiveness and newness can never be quantified. You let go of hurt and pain. You faced your fear and conquered it. Will there be days when those feelings will come back? Yes.
But you are one tough cookie and I know you’ll be strong. You are brave, beautiful and you have a good heart. I am sorry for leaving. I should have stayed and held your hand but I am here now and I want you to know I love you and I want to be with you. You truly deserve all the love and happiness this world can give.”
Damien’s voice closed out. I turned around and looked up to his eyes. I smacked on his chest as he pulled me closer. He held me tight. This man was the one I loved. He saw me when I was weak and broken. He stood for me.
“You came back Damien”
“Leaving would have been my greatest regret ever. I promise to never leave again”
I looked at my mom now standing to my side. She nodded. I smiled.
He squeezed me tighter. It felt right.
It was perfect.
“We go through various emotions in life. Some leave glowing impacts on our lives and some cut deep and scar badly. The stories are different. Our methods are different. The pain is different but our end goal should be the same; forgiveness and peace. Even though I created this story from head to toe, there are relatable lessons I hope people picked up. You might be in a cycle of hurt right now; hurting others for the way others hurt you. Break the cycle and aim for peace.
You might know someone who is broken and recovering from hurt, if you love them, never rush them. You can never quantify their pain. Just love as hard as you can and be patient. Let your unconditional love do the talking.
You might have that one call or text you need to send. DO IT!
You deserve to be happy, to be free. You deserve peace. Take the wheel on your feelings. Control your own cycle of emotions. Don’t remain a victim to hurt and hate.
Give me feedback. How did this make you feel? Talk to me about Imperfect 4 or the series. COMMENT!!!
I smacked my lips together. I circled back my thoughts and kept my eyes closed.
The hand was firm but the touch was gentle. It was a man’s hand. I wanted so badly for it to be Damien. How romantic would it be I thought to myself.
My heart was now in my stomach doing jumping jacks and pushups; nerve wrecking and then I slowly opened my eyes.
I turned my head to the left from my aisle seat to look up at the person. The pants were tailored and freshly pressed; I lifted my eyes and scanned upwards. Making contact with his smile as he grinned at me, I smiled back.
It was the flight attendant.
He politely asked me to put my seatbelt on. I looked down and noticed my unbuckled seat belt. I tried to force a smile.
My heart sunk further as he walked away and I clicked my seatbelt into the buckle. I looked down the aisle once more and realized it.
Damien was gone.
. . . . .
It was great being back stateside. As much as I loved Australia, there was no place like home.
Going back to work felt better too. But I was badly missing Damien and being home with my mother daily was just making me crazy.
My arrival was welcomed at the company and I was given a promotion when I returned and a new office. I even physically moved up one floor in the building.
I was feeling very good about it all. Work was now my source of joy.
My relationships and my health were bleeding at the time but I was holding on.
One particular evening, I came home to my mother. Usually, I would get off work and take the train getting off at the exit where my gym was located. I would work out and then run home which was about 2 miles away.
This evening, I had a long day at work and I wasn’t feeling up for a workout, so I headed home straight from the office. I could feel something coming over me like I was going to explode if I was even spoken to in the wrong tone.
I walked into the house and heard my mother talking on the phone. She must have been talking to a friend or something. I greeted her as was customary and walked into the kitchen. I was attempting to ignore her conversation that almost always consisted of her bad talking me or saying inaccurate things about my brother and I.
She was talking about my eating habits and how I was the reason my condition wasn’t getting better. She was making it seem to the lady on the phone, that I came home daily and neglected to eat. Neglecting the fact that I was working long hours and on a strict diet and workout routine. I was pissed.
Already amped up, she wasn’t discerning enough to register my anger. She kept talking and I kept getting heated. I threw my vegetables into the microwave and walked into the living room.
I stopped right in front of her and said,
“Mummy, I would appreciate if you stopped talking about me to your friend, especially because majority of it is not accurate. Thank you…”
She looked up at me from her seating position and proceeds to lie to my face,
“Efia, I’m not talking about you. You should stay out of my conversation”
I was now heated to the max. Why was she lying?
Every time she did something to me to piss me off, it opened the floodgates of hurt and betrayal. All those unprocessed emotions always seemed to fill me up and I wanted to reach for her and strangle her. But I couldn’t, many things wouldn’t let me.
This was becoming a regular occurrence and I was just tired of having her in my home. I turned around and headed to my room, I slumped onto my bed and picked up my phone.
I started dialing his number; it began ringing as I heard the microwave beeping in the kitchen with the customary three beeps as the timer run out. My mother’s voice still echoed as she continued her conversation before Damien’s voice interrupted me. I got so excited and said “hello”
My ears welcomed the sound of his voice over his voicemail recording. I sighed.
“This is Damien Brown, I am not able to receive your call at the moment…”
The recording went on. It was soothing to hear but I needed him. I needed his calming voice or the husk in his tone that made me feel secure when I was alone or down.
Why did he do this to me?
I started to play back the last argument we had in my head. There were things that I could have done differently.
But was I that horrible?
Did I really scare him away?
I hadn’t even recognized how much I loved the man until he was gone. I was so close to tears. I felt alone and powerless. My support was nowhere to be found.
I was still lying in bed with my face planted in the pillow while I continued to think, my heart was heavy and I wanted to scream. I could feel the heat from my own nostrils hit me on my cheeks as I continued to breathe into the pillow.
I was lost in some train of thought and about 30 minutes had passed when my phone buzzed.
I raised my head up and scanned the bed looking for my phone; I hoped it was Damien. I picked up my phone. Highly expectant, I punched in my unlock code and it opened up. The bright light from the screen slapping me in the face of all the darkness that covered the room, I opened my messages by pulling the notification tab down.
The message was from Lovell. He was an old friend and we had dated briefly for a few months and my trip to Australia interrupted the likelihood of anything happening.
“Hey Effy, I heard you’re back from down under from Lucia and I just wanted to say hi and check on you. We should catch up sometime soon, if you’re down. Hope you’re good”
I wasn’t good. I wasn’t okay. I needed to talk to someone. I wanted to be with someone right now.
I contemplated exploring the night with him. I tried to convince myself not to by thinking about Damien but where was he when I needed him?
Where was he during my last appointment?
When I got my promotion?
He was gone. I looked at my phone and unlocked it again. My message read,
“There’s a late night diner down the street from my place. Get me pancakes?”
A few minutes later, I was in my sweats and ugs as I grabbed my car keys off my dining table and headed for the door. I noticed my mom look at me as I walked, I didn’t make eye contact. She didn’t deserve my words.
. . . . . .
Lovell was nice. I had forgotten about how much he made me laugh.
Since the night we had coffee, he had been a constant. It felt like meeting someone new all over again. The conversations were good to have and he was a true gentleman as always. I remember one night when we went out to a comedy show, somewhat informally. They had a two-drink minimum at the comedy club.
Let’s just say that I had more than two drinks and I was quite drunk that Friday night when the show was over. I had laughed so hard all night that I couldn’t even remember when I passed out.
I woke up the next morning in my bed fully clothed and slightly hung over.
I stumbled out of bed and headed for the kitchen to get some water to drink. It was about 11:30am in the morning, I opened my bedroom door and noticed my mother on the couch.
I so badly couldn’t wait for her to be gone. Waking up to her there was very aggravating for me.
I got to the refrigerator and placed my cup into the space and pressed the button for water. I was heading back to my room when my mom called out to me.
“Efia, come here please. I want to talk to you”
Was the first thought that went through my head. My head was throbbing and I wanted more sleep.
She just knew how to frustrate me. I sluggishly walked towards her pulling my blouse down. I sat down on the couch across from her.
She started by saying
“I am very aware that there is very little hope for the resurrection of our relationship. Frankly because we never really had one to begin with. I realize in hindsight now that I should have done more for you. I should have been your protector. I should have been the terrier that fought to keep you safe but I didn’t know what to do then. It wasn’t until I went to therapy myself that I was shown my lapses as a parent. The hurt I had gone through made it difficult for me to be there for you as you hurt. Hurt people apparently hurt others.”
She paused for a breath and continued;
“Also, my hands were severely tied. The money that we used to start your father’s business was from Comfort’s mother. It was a huge sum of money. At the time, we hadn’t even begun the repayment of the loans yet and that was part of why I went back to working, so that I could support the household.”
I began to get irritated and very angry, as my hangover seemed to instantly fade.
Was she really blaming not taking action on a loan?
Did she realize that I was her daughter? Her blood?
She continued before I could speak,
“I am truly sorry for everything that happened. I wish at the time, I had the strength to do more. I thought I was protecting the livelihood of the family and particularly your father. I was wrong. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Please Efia”
I looked at her and began to tear up. It was my go to emotion when I felt overwhelmed or angry to the point of not being able to speak anymore.
This was too much; too much all at once.
I had waited for many years to hear her own up to her mistakes and apologize. It was finally here and I didn’t know how to forgive her.
I got up and I headed for my room without saying a word and then I heard my mother’s voice. It was coaxed with frustration and sadness.
“Efia, where are you going? Efia! Efia!
Efia, when are you going to forgive me?!!!”
She seemed to yell out. The rage in me was to the brim. I stopped in my tracks and turned abruptly, with piercing focus and deep emotion, I yelled back at her,
“Never!!! You don’t deserve my forgiveness!
You think one apology more than 15 years later will solve it?
NO… So leave me alone!!”
I stormed out of the room and slammed the door to my bedroom.
I ran into my bathroom and closed the door. I sat on the floor of the toilet and began to cry. I just cried.
I was ashamed of myself just as much as I was sad. I had forgotten what it felt like to forgive. I was so used to the emotion of hate that it clouded my view on the possibility of ever forgiving my mother.
I had let hate consume me that even when I felt the apology was sincere, I couldn’t bring myself to validate it.
I spent hours in that bathroom just crying, thinking of my failed relationships. My attempt to identify and my phase with women because I felt that was who I am. The lack of guidance from my mother through navigating new emotions as I grew up, it all just continued to break me.
How much I would have paid to have someone hold me at that time? Even a hug from my father would have been great but he was off somewhere making money.
I slowly lay down on the bathroom floor and passed out. Waking up over 5 hours later, I had missed my friend’s birthday dinner and I had a separate kind of throbbing in my head. Tears induced hangover.
. . . . .
A month had now passed and there was still no contact from Damien.
I was beginning to forget him more and more as the days went by.
At home, my mother and I were getting along better. Small talk here and there but we managed to ignore speaking about the incident. She was nearing the end of her visit also, so we tried to keep things light. I hadn’t forgiven her but I wasn’t as angry as I was before anymore.
We were watching a Lifetime movie together before Lovell arrived to pick me up for our date. I told her goodbye as I headed out of my apartment. Lovell was waiting next to his car when I arrived down stairs; he held the door open for me as I gave him a hug before I entered the car.
I was hungry but all I could think about was how good he smelled. You ladies know how we get when a man smells good. He was confident, driven and super family oriented. An occupational therapist by day, a mentor on the weekends to foster youth and just an all round stand up guy.
Sitting across from him as he finished up a thought, I began to wonder why I hadn’t given him a proper chance before. He was a great guy. It was probably a case of using the curve too early.
My mind briefly flashed towards Damien but he was not here. He was not caring enough to have gone a month without any form of contact. Lovell, smiling at me would probably have turned out to be the same kind of guy but for now, he was mindful of my feelings and respectful of my views. I was laughing my ass off and we had so much in common. I even remember me burning his tongue as I tried to feed him a spoon of my clam chowder. He took it like a champ and we laughed it off. I was having a great time.
My phone began to buzz and I excused myself and reached for my purse, it was my mom.
I kind of rolled my eyes a bit as I answered, Lovell smiled and I responded to her. Lovell motioned at me as he excused himself to use the bathroom. I smiled back.
“Mom, what do you want and why are you still up?”
I asked as I glanced at the time on the phone.
“I slept in the afternoon my dear, I’m not sleepy. Please what is the password for your other computer? I’m trying to watch a dvd and I cannot understand the one under the television”
Not trying to explain how the blu-ray player worked, I gave her the password to my old computer and she set about watching her movie while I got back to my date. I had barely placed the phone down when a waiter brought me my favorite dessert; a Cookies ‘n’ Cream Pizookie and a single purple tulip.
I smiled but confused I said to the waiter
“I didn’t order this”
For a brief second, I thought Lovell had planned it but I was sure I had never told him what my favorite flowers were even if I had mentioned my favorite dessert.
“Oh miss, the gentleman at the table over there specifically ordered it for you”
he said pointing towards a table in the opposite end of the restaurant floor. I turned around in my seat to look with him but I caught the look of surprise on his face, as the man was nowhere to be seen. This odd thought began to come into my head and I tried to shake it off.
I asked the waiter,
“Can you please describe the person to me?”
“He was about 6’1 with medium athletic build. Dark hair. He had a golden ring on his middle right finger. He spoke with a British accent”
My mouth was ajar as I turned around and scanned the room again. Only one name came to mind; Damien.
I began to panic as the waiter excused himself.
Was it really Damien?
What had he seen?
Did he see me feed Lovell or hold his hand?
I picked up my phone and dialed Damien’s friend who I knew, Lucia.
I must have woken her up from her sleep.
“Hey Lucia, sorry to wake you up but I had a quick question. When was the last time you spoke to Damien?”
She cleared her throat as I heard her moving in her bed.
“Hey Effy, umm… the last time I spoke to him was probably a week ago. He was looking for someone to drop him off at the airport”
I was now really worried.
“Where did he say he was going?”
“America. He sold all his property and I think he got a job out there. Yeah, he’s gone”
I thanked her and hung up. Tears as you suspected were streaming down my face.
Lovell returned and with a confused look on his face asked me what was going on.
I swallowed hard and lied that a family emergency had come up and I had to leave.
He looked at the food on the table and then back at me really confused. Then said;
“Okay, can I drop you off at home at least?”
I responded with a “no”. And I proceeded to walk out. He followed me as I hailed a cab and got in. He stood there mad confused like it was his fault or something.
I felt bad for him but I felt horrible for myself. I was crying as the cab driver navigated downtown and headed for my apartment in the midlands. I was regretting everything on the cab ride home.
I blamed myself for opening up to someone else so quickly. I could not fathom if I had blown it with Damien again. I was looking for ways to convince myself that it was okay by telling myself that Damien didn’t see me kiss Lovell, I hadn’t had sex with him or slept at his place but none of it worked. I still felt terrible.
I didn’t understand why he left. Was he mad at me? Did he not want to see me?
I needed answers. On one end, I was just tired and sad but on the other, I was glad that he came back. At least I thought he came back for me. It was just too much to deal with in one night and I just wanted to curl up in a ball in my bed and worry about it all later.
I got home and the walk up the stairs felt like the scene out of the Rocky movie. It just felt like the stairs went on forever. I was still sobbing lightly when I finally arrived at the door. That must have been the reason why I didn’t initially hear the voice of someone else sobbing inside the apartment.
I pushed the door open and froze at the sight of my mother sitting in the dimly lit living room as the light of my computer illuminated her face. She was crying and she was crying hard!
It didn’t take very long while glued in that spot to figure out that my mother had stumbled on my video logs where I had talked about hating her and all the pain trying to love and forgive her had caused.
I felt weak. I wanted to die. As much as I was angry at my mother, I never truly showed how angry I was. I always kept it in and poured it out in my writing and in my video logs. And on those video logs, I held nothing back. I had called her all sorts of horrible things because I thought she would never see them. That no one would ever see them. She must have watched most of them and one was still playing right then.
I just stood there motionless and stared at her.
We both had tears in our eyes now. I stood still with the door opened contemplating closing it and staying in or leaving. She looked broken, I heard each word sail into the open room, floating in the air but like a knife to her heart it stabbed further. This was a cycle of hurt and I could run like she did but what would that do for us?
Someone had to stop the trend of hurting women and creating these dark holes in our hearts that we then expected lovers, friends, jobs, money, and life to fill up. I looked at my keys unsure if I could do this or if I had the strength to do it. I began to doubt myself; I was just as imperfect as she was in many ways, who was I to talk to her? I moved and I closed the door.
20 Comments and Part 4 drops early on Wednesday… You can do it.
I believe I must have said What The Heck Man in my head like twenty times before the person emerged.
I was regretting this. I was regretting having him come over. I was just scared to my bones.
The door opened completely and she poked her head in.
It was Comfort.
Comfort was a family friend’s daughter that was living with us at the time. She was going to school and working for my father at his fish farm.
I was a bit relieved it was her. She was a girl like me and she would understand. She was 19 at the time but she was obviously 11 once.
“What’s going on here?”
she said with a smile on her face while we both rushed to try and cover up. The buttons on my blouse were loosened. He had been fondling my newly acquired breasts that had just come in that summer.
“Nothing. We were just…”
I stuttered to respond.
She snapped back.
“Your mom wants you in her room.”
My mom was home?! I didn’t even know!
“Thank you, Aunty Comfort!”
I dashed out of there, knowing that she had done me a solid favour. David and I would eventually have sex a few weeks later. He was just great with words like that and watching Emmanuelle in Space that night while his parents and mine happened to be out of town didn’t help my resistance. I can’t really explain how my first time was but it was sort of a bland experience. He like many guys after him began to act weird after the first time and we never had sex again. I don’t regret it because it was eye opening in many ways but what I regret was how that incident in my house played out.
There was a 13-year age difference between my older brother and I. My mother had always frowned against boys because she herself got pregnant at the very young age of 15. In many ways, she feels like the man who got her pregnant, though 17 and also a minor at the time knew better but still took advantage of her.
Dealing with the stigma of having my brother and going back to school to get a degree was a huge struggle for her and she never wanted any of us to experience that. I understood it but in many ways, it felt to me like my social life was being punished for her mistakes. She wouldn’t let me go to parties. Sleepovers were off the table and like I previously stated boys were not allowed over. I was able to bend that last rule a bit when it came to friends of the family.
Comfort so far had kept my secret safe. It might seem like an exaggeration but the only male my mother seemed to bring herself to like was her son, my older brother. I strongly believed growing up that my mother hated every single guy on Earth and her father was dead at the time of her pregnancy, so I guess he was exempted.
This particular evening, my parents had gone to visit my aunt out of town. It was just Comfort in the house with me. I had stayed up way past my bedtime. It was a Friday night and my parents weren’t home. Hell yes, I was going to run the house.
It was a little past midnight and I had fallen asleep on the couch watching television. I felt someone waking me up. I must have eaten too much or something but I was in deep sleep. I felt me getting smacked all over to wake up but I didn’t and then I was helped to my room. I remember my body touching the bed.
Slowly, I felt someone’s hands all over my body; running on my skin. It was fine because it wasn’t in the intrusive areas until I felt the hand go up my skirt. I began to move uncomfortably in the bed. The person was very patient because whenever I moved, they would stop and wait for me to fall asleep again. I felt their fingers move my panties aside and one finger went inside me. I jumped up!
“Aunty Comfort, what are you doing?
I asked confused, shocked and surprised. She responded
“Don’t act like you don’t know what this is. Just relax. I won’t tell anyone and if you tell anyone, I will tell your mom about that boy”
I was young but I knew what blackmail felt like. I was scared of what my mother would do to me knowing I had sex with David. I lay back down in the bed and I felt her hand come up inside me while her mouth was all over my privates. I lay there and felt a little bit more of my honesty drift out of me. I couldn’t believe it.
The next few days were hard. I couldn’t look at myself the same way.
I believe I avoided a mirror at all costs during that period. I wasn’t a virgin but it just felt different to be violated. It felt like something was stolen from you. Like you worked for something, even if it wasn’t your hardest effort, and then someone comes and takes it away.
Aunty Comfort was super nice to me over the next few days. Trying to show me how to put makeup on and letting me get extra food when I was hungry. It was all a bribe but all it taught me was how to understand deception and be more deceptive myself.
I played dumb for the most part; acting like whatever had happened didn’t faze me or reflect in my behavior. The only difference was that I couldn’t look at myself and I stayed in my room.
In a way, I felt like a veil was lifted off my eyes. I watched Comfort smile in the eyes of my parents and pretend that she had not done despicable things to me. I felt a little bit more of darkness surround the positive light I saw life in. People are just evil.
You hear stories daily of children that got violated and kept it a secret from their parents because they didn’t want to deal with it or they didn’t know how to, I was the opposite.
About a week had passed since the incident and I could not contain it inside me anymore.
It was a Saturday afternoon and Comfort was at the mall with her friends. Both my parents were sitting in the living room. My dad was reading a newspaper and my mother was working on work stuff like she always did at home. I walked into the living room and asked my mother to come to my room that I wanted to show her something.
The way I asked was awkward. My dad looked up at me briefly and then back to his papers like I was a fly that buzzed by his ear. My mother followed me to my room.
Closing the door behind her, she pulled up the chair in the corner next to my dresser and sat down. I sat on my bed with my head down.
“Is your period heavy again?”
she asked. I looked up at her and then bowed my head again. I shook my head in disapproval.
“Okay, so what is it dear?”
She asked looking around my room at the state of it’s cleanliness.
I wanted to talk but I found it hard to put the words together. I was scared. I just wasn’t sure how it would all play out.
Slowly, I noticed my mom’s face start to become covered in concern. I wanted to bail then. I should have just lied. I shouldn’t have told her the truth. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have trusted her.
“Did a boy touch you?”
Interesting how that was her first question, I shook my head. I still couldn’t say it out loud.
“ Efia, did someone touch you?”
I nodded slowly. Tears were beginning to fill my eyes. I didn’t feel safe talking to my mother about this. I wanted to run but I was glued in place.
My mother sat up straight. Something about her stance wasn’t comforting. Thinking about it now, it must have felt like she was being traumatized all over again. But it was still her duty to protect me, especially from whatever hurt she might have faced before.
“Who was it? Did they beat you?
The last question coming out as she pointed towards my body. I shook again.
Now I could tell she was angry and ready to kill. Her eyes were bigger. Her voice was louder. I could feel her breath on my thighs below my shorts and her anger choked the room.
she asked with her voice raised and leaning in towards me. I backed up and seemed to cower and then I answered
Boom. I dropped it. Right there. I felt scared at the time but mostly glad I had said it but I started to cry.
Tears streaming down my eyes, I looked up at my mother and she looked defeated. She looked like the stuffing was knocked out of her but somewhat relieved. Why? I wasn’t sure. I sensed it might have been because a boy did not violate me. She knew what I was saying. She knew what had been done to me.
I was now crying full tears and my mother was sitting down across from me with her head down. She was not comforting me in anyway and I didn’t know how it was all supposed to work so I just sat there and cried.
It wasn’t up to two minutes later when the door opened. It was my dad. He saw me crying and immediately came over to me and sat next to me.
He had a look of surprise on his face while directed his question at my mom.
“What is going on sweetie? Efia, why are you crying?”
He had his arm around me pulling me close and cuddling me. I felt safe as I sobbed. I didn’t answer his question. I looked up at my mother to answer. I wanted her to explain it but in that moment, she broke my heart forever.
“Nothing honey, she’s just having a really painful flow”
my mom lied to my dad.
“Aww, sorry my baby. It will be alright okay. Maybe you should get dressed and we can go and get some pizza?”
he responded trying to make me feel better. I didn’t move but I looked up at my mother. Our eyes met. My heart shattered.
She was embarrassed by my hurt and she covered it up.
I remember returning from a friend’s house after church the next day to Comfort’s empty room. She was gone. I would find out many years later that my mother never told Comfort’s mother. It was just swept under the rug.
My mother and Comfort’s mother were still friends when I last checked because she never knew about it and my father never did either.
I was even more confused as to why my mother did not fight for me. Why didn’t she do more?We never talked about that day or the incident again but you bet your life, it left its mark on me.
. . . . . .
Ride Out ft. Iyanya by Angel
“Damien, I don’t fucking care!!!! I’m over this shit. It’s always one thing or the other with you. I agree I’m not open enough and I keep things close to my chest but that’s me! That’s how I’ve always been. Deal with it!”
I could see confusion in his eyes. I was overreacting and I had been yelling at him for almost 10 minutes inside my car while parked in front of his apartment. He had followed me from inside where the argument had started.
I had been having a bad day when I got to his house. My mother had told me that she was coming from her base in London to spend 2 weeks in the US and she wanted to stay at my house for a few days to spend quality time. Now I love my mother don’t get me wrong, but I could not stand the idea of being in a space with her. That was the first thing to annoy me that day.
Damien and I were having a conversation about taking our situation to the next level. We had been exclusive for about two months and I wanted more but Damien was hesitant because of my irrationality and my go-to reaction of always leaving whenever I was upset.
“I don’t know if a relationship is the best thing right now Efia. You’re supposed to be going back to the States in 3 days. We are on two separate ends of the world. It will be too hard”
He explained to me and it made sense but I responded with,
“I get that but I can go to the US and work on getting transferred back to our office out here. We just have to be on the same page”
“That still doesn’t address your sometimes erratic behavior though, your sometimes hot and cold demeanor. It’s hard to give you all of me if you can easily throw it all away”
he chimed back and I lost it. I yelled back,
“You don’t love me. You never have. It has always been about the sex and the time for you. Now I want more and you have excuses! Fuck this, I’m out!”
I ran out to my car and he followed me. He got into the car and kept trying to explain himself. He told me he loved me and saw a future with me but the uncertainties made him uncomfortable and he wanted us to carefully make a decision. All smart points but I wasn’t having it. Today was not my day. I kept yelling at him and then he made the biggest mistake ever.
While I was yelling and motioning in the car, he asked me to calm down and then he placed his hands on me.
“Calm down Efia, you look crazy right now and you know I live here”
All I heard was “Calm down and you look crazy”. Two phrases no woman wants to hear when she’s heated.
I just went into overdrive. I hopped out of the car and slammed the door shut. I headed for his apartment complex that was gated. I pulled up my dress from my ankles and began to climb the gate. I briefly turned and noticed Damien in the passenger seat of my car, his face had one look on it; STUNNED.
I hopped down on the other side and headed into his apartment. I went straight to his room and picked up my bags. I had 3 of them and I was only staying for a night, I was horrible at packing. I was struggling to carry all the bags out of the room when Damien barged into the room.
I had never seen him that angry before but it was different. It was channelled and controlled.
He snatched the bags out of my hands and threw them to the floor. In one move, he swept me and pinned me to the wall. He kissed me hard. His lips and the heat from his nostrils burned my neck as he kissed his way down. In certain places he bit, hard enough to not give me a hickey but I felt the pain. I was beginning to get wet. He was reacting and in a weird way, it validated that he cared. Some of you ladies know what I mean.
I was getting wetter down there and I knew he was going to make his way there soon. He had his right hand around my neck, slightly choking me. He bit gently on my nipples as he sucked on them. I wanted him inside of me
He lifted me up and slammed me onto the bed. He placed his hands on my knees then he slid them upwards, lifting my dress and then downward with my panties in his hands.
He could see my wetness now and he licked his lips. He still made no eye contact with me. He pushed my legs up and back as far as they could go and he stuck his tongue inside my pink. He was rough today with just the right amount of aggression. My body was shaking now.
He continued to patrol my pink while his face became soaked in all my wetness. I could feel more and more drops seep out of me as he went for more. I was nearing cumming hard on his face when I snapped my hips together and I might have hurt his head but he backed up for a minute while I got up and ran for the bathroom. I didn’t want him to make me cum yet. I was turned on, scared of his anger and already shaking.
He got up and growled while following me into the bathroom, he turned me around as he closed the seat to the toilet bowl.
“Kneel on top of it”
he said in the most commanding tone he had. I obeyed and knelt down.
He spread my cheeks and slowly slid his throbbing member inside me. I don’t know if it was because it was the angry sex but it was hard and felt bigger than usual. He didn’t begin slow or go gently like he normally would. He went for the jugular. He squeezed my cheeks apart as he slid in and out. He grabbed my waist and began pounding; each thrust going deeper than the last one. I could feel it in my gut but I couldn’t feel my legs. He moved his left hand and grabbed a handful of my braids. He began to pull as he fucked me. My breasts settling on the cold of the toilet, he continued to ram into me. I was moaning loudly.
“What’s my name? Who’s pussy is this?”
Were the questions he asked as he worked his throbbing dick into me.
“Say my fucking name!”
“Damie…. Dam…. Damien…”
I moaned out with my head kicked back due to his hold. It was only a matter of time before he exploded. He let go of my hair and grabbed my waist tighter and had 5 really hard thrusts before pulling out and spraying all his seed on my left ass check.
We both ended up in bed next to each other, no words said. Before I knew it, it was morning. Damien was gone and I had to leave too. I didn’t hear from Damien again that weekend.
It was now Monday morning and I was scheduled to fly back to the US that morning, I had called Damien again that morning but there no answer. I was sad. I think I might have blown it. I had stopped by his house the day before and he was not there. He was gone and I was about to fly to the other side of the world without saying goodbye to the man I had fallen in love with.
The cab driver helped me put all my bags in the car and I left my keys in the mailbox for the landlord, I was headed home; my real home.
On the car ride to the airport, I kept asking myself about how I lost it all. I knew I needed to work on my anger, short fuse, and erratic behaviour. I needed to be a better woman for me and for the future I wanted to have.
I arrived at the airport and checked in. I was doing everything slowly to give Damien enough time to show up. Nothing.
I could hear them now calling my name as the boarding for my flight was almost done. Sadness covered me. I truly loved that man and he wasn’t there to see me off. It brought tears to my eyes.
I kept on hoping that he would show up like in the movies and I got nothing. I’d fucked up.
I knew I was imperfect, I knew I needed work and I knew he had been patient and understanding. It was a blessing to have him, at least before I lost him. I placed my headphones in my ears trying to navigate my emotions.
I was drifting into my thoughts and thinking about sleeping in my bed in Detroit, pizza and watching Basketball when I felt a hand on my shoulder. My heart skipped a beat. I slowly opened my eyes….
I slowly realized that if I don’t comment at the bottom of this post, @adewus4real will find me and not give me plantain. And na only me go waka come but it will be a deadly day. Make we no die on the line abeg! COMMENT!!!!
The sun made the effort to stay around as we all slowly ignored the presence of nightfall as the day pulled to a tired close.
The wide-open window pulled in the after rays of the sun as my room faced the departing light. It was reminiscent of my life at the moment. I was lying on my back while staring at the ceiling. The passing sounds of kids making their way home before nightfall, battled for short attention in my ears while competing with the sound of the creaky ceiling fan that rolled in circular motions. It was blowing hot air and didn’t seem properly hinged into the ceiling. It looked like it could fall apart at any moment. Dangerously being effective. Now that… That was my life at that moment. Period.
I turned over and looked at the man lying next to me. I couldn’t remember his name, Damur, Dapur or something like that. He was snoring face down on the bed, passed out after a vigorous workout; at least for him. I looked off into the corner of the room, to the side table and noticed my three cell phones charging at the same time. One had a full red light that signified a full charge and the other two slowly playing catch up. The batteries in all the phones were fucked. I was just too lazy to get one new phone, so I rotated the batteries between each one like a fraudulent dealer using a burner phone.
Sweat was dripping down my chest and through my breasts as my breathing slowed down. My mind was alert and I could feel my heart beat from between my legs.
It was nothing of his doing but all mine. The initial round of sex with him was average at best. I hadn’t gotten better many times before. I couldn’t understand why he was so average.
Maybe it was the food we had at lunch but I have to say that I expected more from him whether he lived up to that or not. My flat mate rumored it at the time that men out there had healthy packages. The first one I had come in contact with there was up to the billing but this one, well this one was better at snoring than at fucking me.
It had been a little over 2 weeks since I arrived in Sydney. The company I worked for had paid for my graduate school program and I had been with them for over two years. They chose me along with some other young employees to go and study our global markets. We got Australia.
I absolutely loved everything about Sydney, the people, the weather, the sights, the men. Everything!
There was something about the way the men spoke to their women, their accents modelling that of the British but the level of respect they seemed to have for their women was a breath of fresh air. So much better than what I was used to in certain places down in Detroit.
It was now 8:02pm.
Still sunny but a cool breeze was starting to drift into the room to support the ever failing ceiling fan that still worked tirelessly but dangerously to keep me cool.
I wondered why I was even in this bed and not mine all the way in Sydney and in a fully furnished apartment. I was just tired and sweaty. I had just met this man yesterday and we had driven down to Wollongong from Sydney, about 42 miles. He was a cool guy and he seemed well put together. He made me laugh and that was a huge selling point for any guy but then again, I just met him yesterday. We had spent the day together at his place here, which was barely hanging together.
It was not my nature to mess with guys I just met the night before but I don’t know why I had been living much closer to the edge lately.
This trip down under was so helpful in helping me refocus because I was so close to the brink during my last incident while I was visiting Washington, DC a few weeks prior to leaving the states. Let’s just say that night involved heavy drinking, unsafe sex, drugs and luckily only a parking ticket. It could have been much worse that night.
I was still in my head when Damur, I confirmed his name, touched me on my right breast. I was still sweating and had barely moved while he had taken an apparent nap.
“Hey, how did you sleep?”
I asked trying to be polite.
“It was a good power nap”
He responded with a smile on his face.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
I asked now with a smile covering my face,
“Because I want to do things again”
“I have to go though. I’m sorry”
was my response. His face changed and he looked kind of sad and he said,
“Don’t go. We still have tonight and Sunday before you can go back to work”
“It’s not because of work, Damur. I have other plans”
He seemed to understand and didn’t respond, he just started sucking on my right breast. Running his fingers all over my chest, he covered them in my sweat. He began to kiss me all over my neck and I was starting to get turned on. That’s how these men get us. Fuck!
My nipples began to harden in between his fingers. He was running his hands all over my body and I loved it. The room was hotter again and I was starting to sweat more.
Damur was Australian but from Malaysian parents, he was a bit darker than most. He was very well primed and clean cut with an amazing body. His package was great too but he just didn’t know how to use it. If only I had more time to blow his mind and teach him things.
He got on top on top of me and wanted to head back down south. Trust me, I’m not one to turn down the free opportunity to receive brain from a good looking and willing man but I wanted to show him something he hadn’t gotten before.
I closed my legs as he got closer and he got this confused look on his face and I motioned to him asking him to get on his back. He smiled and did.
I got on top of him and slowly began kissing him along his neck and behind his ears. He was extremely sensitive and ticklish. He began to squirm. I loved it!
I worked my way down kissing his chiseled abs as I arrived at the rock. I softly kissed around it and then took it into my mouth. It was warm and hard. My tongue began to get acquainted. Caressing every inch and over every vein, I could feel him pulse inside my mouth. My spit slurped down his shaft as I worked my mouth to keep it “clean”. He was moaning and clutching the sheets when I squeezed my lips tighter and began to suck on the tip of his pulsing head. I placed my right hand on his ball sack and rolled them in my hands like they were dii. He was now nearing it. Fighting back the moans; he didn’t want to sound like anything less of a “man” but there was something more attractive to me about a man that could moan while I pleasured him.
I could hear myself slurping up and down his shaft; I moved my mouth and took his balls into my mouth. It sent him to the very edge. He wanted to lose it. I was having the time of my life. A few minutes later, I moved back to his shaft and began to work my head and my lips up and down. Sweat was dripping down my face. My makeup was obviously shit at that point but my only reward came as he came and exploded his warm nut into the back walls of my mouth. He panted as I sucked the very last drops out of it, his dick still throbbed and remained fairly hard. I looked up at him with a thankful grin while I climbed on top of him.
With my hand behind my back, I stroked his member into full erection and slowly slid it into me. I could feel it consume the space inside me. It was hard. I gently twisted my waist on his shaft as my juices began to soak him up. I was going to enjoy this for sure.
I placed my hands on his chest and arched my back ready to twerk my ass on his throbbing dick. I turned to the right and looked out the window, it was now dark with the room, which was on the second floor, being lit by the streetlights. I was going to leave an impression on this man. I pulled back and leaned backwards. I realized I still had plans and a 45-minute drive home. Shit!
I had to get to work. I leaned backwards as I bounced up and down his dick while he held onto my waist. I could hear myself panting as my sagging breasts slapped my wet chest. I knocked my head back and looked up to the ceiling. I zoned my voice out and his out, now all I could hear was the fan again.
And then I heard another loud moan from him, I looked down and read his face. I asked him,
“Did you cum already?”
With a shy look on his face, he answered,
“Yes, your pussy is so good”
Hiding disappointment, I smiled as I got off him. I gave him a kiss while he lay somewhat lifeless again on the bed. I began to put my clothes on. I looked out the window and noticed another couple in the apartment complex across from us having sex. He was pulling her hair and slapping her ass while she moaned loudly and begged. I could almost make out the pleas as he drove his rod inside her.
“Only a matter of time”
I thought to myself. I got up, dressed and said bye to Damur, promising to call him. I closed the door behind me and thought to myself as I walked down the stairs. What The Heck Man!
It was all good though, I felt the night would get better. Damien was waiting for me and he had a package that needed to deliver.
. . . . .
Nina by Ed Sheeran
I had just gotten out of school when I knew I wanted to go big in terms of how I pictured my future and my career. At the time I was working as a HR assistant making $11/hr working 50hrs a week but essentially inky getting paid for 35 of them. The only thing was that I was comfortable where I was. They liked me there and I liked the company, so I had really no qualms being there.
One of my classmates back then felt I was underachieving and so he sent my resume in to my current company. They liked me and gave me a call. The chase to get me took another 6 months before I finally decided to quit my job at the time and jump ship to a higher pay and more stability.
The ride was amazing. And so far the opportunities my current job has given me have been unique and eye opening.
I immediately jumped at the chance to come to Australia and learn new things and that was when I met Damien. He was a really good guy that seemed to always want to make me laugh. It was much needed on those difficult days.
Man like today, I looked down at my phone and speak of the angel, it was Damien.
“Where you at sweetie?”
He always called me sweetie for some reason. He said it was because I tasted like sugar.
Sigh. The thing that man’s tongue could do to a woman’s body.
I smiled and took a deep breath in before responding,
“Just about to leave the hospital”
Surprised, he responded,
“Yea, I’ve been here since about 3pm and it’s now 9:30pm.”
I gently replied.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is everything okay?”
I could now hear the concern in his voice.
“I’m fine now. It’s the Acute Chest Syndrome thing again. I woke up this morning with a lot of pain and my hands and feet were really cold. So when it didn’t go away by the afternoon time, I came out to the hospital and I’ve been here since.
Can you come and get me? I didn’t drive here.”
The conversation wrapped up as he got off the phone and he headed down to get me. I hated this situation, I hated being Anaemic, it was always one issue or the other since I was a kid. Scary nights when I thought I was going to die but somehow I’ve made it this far. The episodes varied and came without warning, sometimes mild and often severe. I was just glad I had people that cared about me around to take care of me.
Damien pulled up and I hopped into the car. He knew I didn’t want to talk about it. I was weak and I just didn’t want to delve into my life at that moment. I looked and felt vulnerable, I just wanted him to drive me home. I wanted to curl up under my sheets and catch up on a show or two before knocking out. With how I felt, I wasn’t going to work the next day… I just wanted to rest.
I noticed about 10 minutes into the drive that Damien wasn’t taking me towards my apartment which he knew very well. I began to wonder what was going on and then he pulled up in front of the movie theatre. He turned over to me and said,
“I’m going to cheer you up. There’s a great comedy out right now and you’ll get a good laugh from it while forgetting everything else.”
He was actually right. I loved my comedies and this was a great time to catch one. He helped me out of the car and asked to quickly use the ATM machine. For some reason, it wasn’t accepting one of the bills he wanted to deposit in there. While he was doing that, a bunch of young Asian boys, clearly high or drunk walked in front of us. I clutched my purse tighter and moved a bit closer to Damien who I had given space to for privacy while using the machine. I wasn’t sure why I did that; it just seemed to speak to my vulnerability.
The movie was a blast. It was funny and it made my ribs hurt but in a good way. I walked out of the theatre feeling a bit energized and definitely in a good mood but that wouldn’t last long. I asked Damien to please take me to the store because I wanted some ice cream. I was on a diet at the time, one of my many but I was just craving some ice cream.
We headed back to my place when we left the store and I balanced on the couch and dug into my tub of ice cream. It was a small tub to be fair but it was some good shit. I was enjoying my ice cream when my phone began to buzz. I placed my tub next to the huge bottle of Grey Goose that Damien was drinking from and looked at my phone.
Ugh! It was my mother.
I had texted her more than 6hours prior and she was just getting back to me. That highlighted our relationship. Most daughters are best friends with their mothers or at least close on some level but us two, we just co-existed in each other’s lives and blamed each other for many things. She barely asked how I was doing and then she heard Damien’s voice.
“Who is there with you?”
she asked being her usual nosy self.
I responded and she continued,
“What kind of friend? I hope you’re looking and praying for a husband o. Because you’re not getting any younger and you need to bring someone home. It will be nice if you find a man so he can be there for you on days like this one”
I said to subtly highlight my irritation but also shut her up.
And the call soon ended and with it, my good mood disappeared too.
THERE IS A PROJECT TO GET “WhatTheHeckMan” to the next level 🙂 but your help is NEEDED. Your comments (Good/bad or in pidgin English) is SUPER IMPORTANT. PLEASE leave me a response to the story and the surprise below. Thank you sooooo much!!!
Growing up, I was a tom boy. I played with the boys and my older brother’s friends. Girly stuff and even the colour pink made me uncomfortable. I think back then, I was just very active and my personality meshed with that of the boys better.
For a long time, my mother was a stay at home mom. She watched our every move and kept on top of things with us.
My mother was the type to forget that you were her child and not a project. She was beyond guarded with us and our future was her only priority. She was the typical parent that wanted you to be the best at everything education related. Personally, it seemed like she wanted me to be as successful as possible in life, so I could forget all the horrible things that were ever done to me the summer before my 12th birthday.
One afternoon, I must have been about 11. My mother had now begun to work as assistant to the school superintendent for the district. It meant long hours and tired evenings for her. Our relationship had truly began to wane. That afternoon, I was in my room with my friend David. We were playing house, I was the mom and he was the dad when the conversation turned to kissing. And how that should be done. In hindsight I should have realized that the then 13yr old David, was just trying to explore his sexuality and he liked me.
Somehow he coerced me into kissing him. I won’t sit here and say I didn’t play a part in it too. I liked him. Matter of fact, I really liked him. He played the flute, the drums, he could sing and he was good at math. I was terrible at math and he always helped me out in school.
Our lips were locked. The kissing was horrible. His tongue was doing embarrassing things and I didn’t know what it should feel like, so I went with the flow and then it happened. The door opened…
Part two next week… COMMENT BELOW!!!!!!
Bonus for all your AWESOMENESS and for COMMENTING!!!
Nia left and Jae packed her things and left a few hours later. I sat on the couch as she packed up and walked out. She did not say a single word to me and I was sure I wouldn’t be able to handle her saying another word to me. It would have broken whatever was left of my heart.
I was replaying what had just happened in my head and how it came about. Apparently, Jae had picked up on the exchange at the hospital. Suspecting that Nia had maybe told me something in private about a condition, she tried to find out herself by requesting a home visit and then manipulating an already fragile Nia into telling her everything that happened between us.
Nia held nothing back and once she started talking, it was all out there.
It crumbled my home. To dust.
The days began to add up and my home was just as empty as my heart. Jae did not pick up any of my calls and a now married Nia did not want me contacting her. I was stuck but I knew I had to do something. And I had to do it soon.
It took a lot of self building up to realize that I had to start with Nia. From what I gathered, Jae was completely off the grid.
I summoned courage one evening and headed for Nia’s home. It was beautiful. It had a picket fence in a cul de sac which she loved and always dreamt about raising her kids there. I parked on the street and walked up to the front door. I knocked and a little dog began to bark. About a minute later, someone opened the door. There were toddler soccer shoes to the right side of the door and Nia stood in the doorway.
“What are you doing here? What do you want?”
“I just wanted to talk to you and ask for your forgiveness for everything that happened to you back then. I am sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry? You want to stand here and say you’re sorry. Not only did you let your friends rape me, I got pregnant from that horrible encounter. I would eventually have two boys and if you’re still the man that would do that to a woman, I pray that my boys never end up anything like you. You are a disgrace to men. I lay there and you watched me get violated and you did nothing. I cried and pleaded with you to help me. I needed you and you were too concerned with vanities. You broke me that night and I don’t think I ever healed since that night. I went to your father to tell him about it and he blew me off. Me? I was the victim here and I was expected to be shoved away?”
The words flied out her mouth and hit me like flames, I was starting to sweat and I felt my knees and ankles begin to give way. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
I wanted to explain myself but I didn’t have the words. They just wouldn’t come out. I stood there in shock and flooded with regret. I remembered that night, I hated that night. I was a coward back then, eager to be accepted and feel among. Fitting in with the guys was all I thought of, I needed an identity and I went about it the worst way because I hurt the woman I loved.
“Your father manipulated my poor parents into accepting money and we did leave town but I had unfinished business here, so I returned. The money was good but having you was priceless. I ended up losing that pregnancy and I spiraled into depression. One evening whilst mourning, I cursed your existence that you would not see the joys of having a child of your own. I never knew it would come true. I feel for your wife but I don’t know what you expect me to do”
Before I could respond, Jae’s husband came out of the house and stood behind her in a protective stance. It all seemed to get awkward. I was angry. My father never told me that she was pregnant and I thought she just disappeared. Why wasn’t he honest with me?
“Everything okay, here?”
He asked as he scanned me up and down.
“Everything is fine, baby. This is NU.”
She replied with NU standing for the name of our university; Northwestern University. I acknowledged his presence and began to speak
“Nia, I am sorry. I was young and naïve. I made many mistakes and I am sorry. I hurt you bad and I wish I could fix it all but we both have families now. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Also remember that this is also affecting someone who had no hand in this being my wife. Please forgive me.”
Nia broke down and began to sob. I apologized for my presence as her husband led her back into the home. There was so much hurt in her and I think finally listening to me apologize lifted a huge burden off her shoulders and she could finally move on from it.
I didn’t hear from Nia for another couple of weeks. I second guessed myself and wondered if my going over to her home was a bad idea. She would eventually call me and with the help of her husband, she forgave me. The evening she broke down at her house, I dashed out of there and headed straight for my father’s. I was furious, how could he hide such huge things from me?
I remember leaving Nia’s home and driving at about 100mph. I just wanted to get into his face and punch him with all due respect.
I arrived there.
I stormed into my father’s house searching for blood. Maria the cleaning lady was doing her things as usual.
“Welcome Mr Murcel”
She said with her heavy Chilean accent. I waved her off and headed for my father’s study.
Up the stairs and around the corner I headed. My father’s study was at the front of the house with a balcony. He had a full view of the premises from the gate to the front door. He must have seen me from the proverbial a mile away.
I didn’t knock, I barged in. I began in a heightened angry tone,
“Why didn’t you tell me that she was pregnant?! They came to you with my child and you paid them off?!
Do you know what happened to that child?!”
With a stern but calm look on his face, he pointed at me barely looking up from the paper on his desk.
“Sit down, son”
“No! I’m not sitting down”
I yelled back. He stood up sharply and said with a now angry voice,
“Now listen to me, I did this for you but not only you, I did this for us. That girl and her family came to me with a baby. You were still in school, you needed to focus on that and our family was facing an election, we could not afford to face that.
Besides, what kind of story would it be if it came out that the son of a top executive was a witness to a rape of his girlfriend which resulted in a pregnancy but he didn’t do anything. So I paid them some money, enough money to take care of them fully and then send her back to school once the baby was born. You could have also gone to jail for a long long time. I handled it.”
I paused for a second and gathered my anger again and said,
“You should have told me something! Anything! I would have let her know I did not abandon her and the baby. You hid that away from me because of your own selfish needs. You run for office. How much did you pay her?! Paying her to stay quiet.
Well congrats; you gave her money while I have lost everything. From a potential child to a barren home, all lost thanks to you. For all the money you gave her, that boy still died and she cursed my future for that. Thank you, father. You always found a way to control everything!”
I didn’t wait for a response; I just turned around and headed out of the room.
It was like my legs could not carry me fast enough. I just wanted to be far away from him and my current life. It all felt hopeless. The woman I love had already left me, I put a child in another woman and that was also taken away from me somehow.
What was there to live for?
Why even bother trying?
I got into my car with tears streaming down my face.
Why was this happening to me? I knew I had made mistakes but why was I being punished like this?
I felt like I was stripped of my dignity, integrity and even happiness as a man. I didn’t know how to find myself. I was lost.
. . . . .
I’m a Mess by Ed Sheeran
From the top of my mouth, through my nostrils and onto my huge forehead, I felt heavy pressure.
I slowly opened up my eyes as I sat up in my bed. There was a ringing sound in my ears. And the light in the room was making my headache worse.
I got up and stumbled across my room towards the door. I slipped on my house slippers and realized I had left my phone on the bed. I turned around and went back to get it.
Pausing before I started walking back, I realized my room was a mess.
It was a clear representation of my life at the time. Dirty clothes all over the floor, used empty plates by the bedsides, take out meal packets beginning to mould and unfolded laundry falling out of the basket; just one big mess.
Grabbing my phone, I stood still and stared at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t shaved in almost a month, full beard and I looked unkempt. I just felt like there was no need to look presentable to the world.
For some reason I changed my mind about heading downstairs and I headed for the shower instead. I turned the water on, it usually took a few minutes to get hot. I sat down on the toilet seat and handled two pieces of business while I responded to my emails. I then proceeded into the bathroom. The water was hot and I had to dial it down. I stood at the back of the tub for a bit, as the shower sprayed water onto my shins and then like a kid getting into a swimming pool for the first time, I slowly came under the shower as the hot water soaked my body from the crown of head to the soles of my feet.
I stood there and I let the water cover me. The sound of the water drowned out the rest of the world as my thoughts raged at me.
It had been 5 months since Jae left. She never came back for any of her things. Her sister came by once to pick up a few things and that was it. I had not spoken to her, seen her, heard from her or had an idea where she was. I had begun to give up hope of her and our life as a couple. I feared that she might now be in love with someone else or trying desperately to forget me. I knew I had fucked up pretty bad but how to fix it was now the biggest problem and 5 months in, I still had no answers.
The water trickled down my chest and through my pubic hairs. I was washing away the soap around my dick and I cupped my balls in my hands. I looked down at them positioning my head to prevent the water from getting into my eyes as the shower continued to spray me.
Looking at my slowly hardening package, I realized that I hadn’t done anything sexual for a little over a month. Depression and everything else just killed my drive.
For whatever reason, I was on today. I gently began to stroke my shaft as it began to harden in my hands.
I forgot how good it felt to feel hard. The water was heating up the rest of my body, my right hand on the shower wall while my left hand pumped up and down on my now hardened cock. I wish I had somewhere to put it I thought. My mind flashed to Jae.
Both sets of her soft lips, her inviting curvy hips, her sexy voice and her perfectly rounded ass. I missed her body, I continued to pump while thinking of the one night I sent her a message saying
And I came home that night and tore it up.
I wanted a night like that but I realized that it wasn’t going to happen. The sadness crept into my mind quickly and I could feel myself begin to soften in my hands. I quickly pumped harder and faster. A few minutes later, the water was washing away my wasted seed down the drain.
I was out in my room, drying myself off. I slid on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I headed down the stairs to my living room and turned the TV on. MSNBC was on, it was the Hardball show. I loved watching the news. I continued my journey to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
It was going to be noodles, stir fry and some sausage that I had left over from a few days ago. I hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while. Ordering in was my new thing, reflected by the pile of restaurant menus I’d ordered from on the coffee table. Standing there, I played back the day I walked into Jae and Nia sitting there and how they both ended up leaving that day. Every single day, I thought about how I could have made that different. A lot of “what if’s” floated through my head but I knew it was fate and it played out the way it needed to.
I absolutely hated the microwave hitting the last second and making that beeping sound. Right before it hit 2seconds left, I snapped the door open. I stopped. It sounded like I had heard a knock on the door. I was quiet, no follow-up knock.
I closed the microwave door and it seemed like there was another knock on the door. This time I had to check it out. I set my food down on the kitchen counter and headed for the door. I heard some movement. I bent down and looked into the peep hole; it was my father.
“What was he doing here?”
I asked myself. I hadn’t seen him since the confrontation at his house. I actually got nervous for a second because he had made no attempt to contact me either. I looked into the peep hole again and noticed there was someone else in the corner of my view but I couldn’t see them clearly. The person looked big but unrecognizable.
I looked behind me and realized my entire home was a mess. Shit!
I had no choice but to open the door and I did slowly. My dad stood in the doorway and looked at me
“Can we come in?”
I motioned them in as I held the door open. He walked in and coming from the corner of the front of the house, Jae walked in behind him.
Yes. You read that right. I was shocked. Frozen into my spot, I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, I was happy on the inside and on the other, very nervous about her standing in front of me.
“Sit down, son”
My father began as Jae took her seat beside him. She was different. She looked like she had a glow and I was curious to know. My father continued on,
“Marcel, I want to apologize to you and your wife, Jae. Way back when I paid off Nia and her family to go away, I thought I had your best interests in mind but evidently, I only had mine. Time and various situations have shown me that, I was wrong. I believe that my actions back then caused certain things to happen in your marriage and I take responsibility for that. Indeed for everything I am truly sorry. My actions back then contributed to the separation between you both, there for, I had to reach out to Jae and plead with her to come back to her marital home.”
My father looked straight at me while he talked. He was always an honest man when it came to his family and being straightforward with them. I always respected him for that and I think that was why I was so hurt he kept the whole thing about Nia from me back then.
He turned to his right and looked at Jae.
“Go and sit with your husband”
Jae rose and came to sit next to me across from my father. He continued,
“I am here to humbly ask for your forgiveness…. Both of you. And implore you to not let the love between you which is clearly there die. Remember that love is patient and can stand the test of many difficult tests life throws at it. You love each other. Grow that, cherish that”
I was moved by what my father said and I nodded at him respectfully. Turning over to Jae, I held her hands in mine and said,
“Jae, my love, these past few months have been the worst of my life because I was not waking up to you in my life. I am sorry for whatever way I might have hurt you and our families. I never meant to hurt you. I truly want to earn your love and your trust if you will let me. I need you back… More than ever, I know I need you. Please come home. I truly love you.”
Tears had begun to form inside her lower eye lids, she squeezed my hands gently and said,
“You are my everything and even though I was hurt, I realized that it wasn’t entirely your fault and even Nia called to tell me she forgave you and wanted me to do the same. So why not? I have been away in London for the past 5 months and I go back tomorrow. No one knows I am here and I want to keep it that way to protect us. All of us. You are the love of my life and I want us to go back to being a family, a happy family.”
She removed her left hand which still had her wedding ring on it and began to rub her belly.
“I know you missed out on one opportunity to be a father the first time my love but this time, I know you will be a great dad. We are having a baby!”
I was overjoyed. A huge smile broke across my face, my wife was back and she was carrying a baby. I was so happy but confused. I uttered..
“how? We haven’t had…”
She stopped me in my tracks, knowing exactly what I was going to ask and said,
“Remember that day I came to your office? Yeah, it was that day.”
I remembered that day. That was a magical day. I leaned in and kissed my wife on her lips. I was the happiest man in the world. No single pregnancy we had ever had before made it past the 4 month mark. I was beyond joyous.
Jae was heading back to London to protect the situation and any kind of “attacks”. Nobody except the 3 of us in the room knew about her being pregnant and it was going to stay that way till the baby was born.
Right before Jae turned around to leave, she looked around the room in all it’s messiness and said,
“Thank God I’m pregnant; I won’t be responsible for cleaning this up”
We laughed as they left. I walked them to the car and gave Jae a hug and waved them off. I stood still and thought of how much of a lucky man I was.
It all felt out of this world, I was beyond grateful and I hadn’t even processed it all yet.
. . . . . .
I was walking through the hallway towards the sound of my name. It was loud and tempered with fear. The voice was familiar and scared. It was Jae. The last time I had heard her scream my name like that was a few nights prior in bed but this sounded more like the noise she made in the delivery room almost two years ago.
I knew that her water hadn’t broken yet, it wasn’t time yet but I also wasn’t sure if it was another miscarriage or not. I feared the worst. I pulled up into the balcony of my father’s house where the whole family was present for our annual Christmas party and there she was.
With panic written all over her face, she pointed to the corner of the balcony towards the railings. It was Marcel Jr.
I stopped and burst out laughing, he was crying, Jae’s panic was slowly turning to laughter. Remember what I said about having a big head, well I definitely gave it to my son. Great genes!
He had stuck his big head in between the rails and gotten stuck. It took me back a few years to my situation before he was born. I was trapped before too and just like now, it was the people I loved the most that helped me out.
I walked over to him, still with a smile on my face, I crouched and said,
“Realize your worth today and reach out to someone going through a tough time. You might just be that outlet they are looking for.”
Thank you for reading Trapped 1-4. You are highly appreciated. NEW STORY out NEXT SATURDAY. SNIPPET ON WEDNESDAY