"I don’t want no parts of that erroneous myth of the ride or die woman because I almost actually died...I done all the riding I’m gon do." [An INterview, Part 2]Read Now
[Note: After breaking up with her fiance who, unbeknownst to her, has embarked on a life of crime, this Marrow Woman finds herself in crisis, living with a new love and fellow artist, who is struggling with his mental health.]
He triggered in the mornings because of past abuse, so for the first two or three weeks I was there, every morning, he would pick a fight with me and it was shut the fuck up, and it was this, that and the 3rd. I remember he had a fit in the bathroom one morning mad about something, and broke a bunch of shit and dropped something down the toilet. Well I didn't know he had dropped something down the toilet because he was just fucking shit up and the toilet overflowed, and he just blamed me. When he came home there was this pissy, shitty water all over the floor, the carpet was all wet. He said, I think you should move out. Every other day he was telling me that I should move out. I mean to the point where one day I was sitting at the bus station with my stuff, just sitting there like Jesus, am I gonna become the stripper again today? Because you and I both know I ain't got no job down here. I ain't got nowhere to go and I just refuse to go to my mother and my sister’s house under those circumstances. When I tell you that it was hard.
I tried to kill myself at one point, in June when there was no water in my apartment and so much had happened. I finally was just like, I don’t wanna go through this no more. It’s enough. I took all the little Tylenol, Advil, whatever the fuck it was in the bottle. Now it was only about 12 of them but I was high as a kite. I threw it all up. My body made me throw it up. But when I woke up I was like, okay God I’m still here. I guess you know I’m serious about it. I was tired and sad and it’s not that I didn’t care about my life, it's just been the quintessential fucking dark skinned field nigga cliche, including me having a bunch of relationships with men who belittle me, berate me, put me down and diminish me instead of building me up. I’m a single mother and I’m alone, and the men that are coming into my life are actually hurting me. And it just made me sad. Like, I’ve walked with you 20 years God and I don’t even have water. This can’t be right. I’ve been through so many twists and turns. This can’t be right. It can’t be this hard. I done moved down here in love knowing that I’m dealing with a brother with a lot of trauma, but believing in the power of God and the possibility of the connection, because it was a connection I didn’t have in my previous relationship. So it was like, though this guy is super unconventional and crazy as a damn roach, he’s so genuine. He will drive all night to come see me, if he can solve the problem he will. Loves me. Gave me his key within like the first two visits.
In some ways I didn’t know he was sort of just like that. He jumps into things and saves people and gets caught up in stories. You know, if he goes somewhere and it's a fight, he’s going to jump in there and get involved if he feels like there’s an injustice, you know? He’s just one of those kinds of people so it wasn’t as much about me as I thought. But because I was so down and nobody had my back, I was so appreciative. I was adamant that because of my experiences dealing with my mom's mental illness, that I was going to try my best to love him as best I could. And I remember when I first moved in, that week we made some progress. At first he would jump whenever I would go to put my hand near his face. He would put his hand up to actually block - and it took awhile - but after awhile he wouldn’t block my hand and he would let me touch him. And that was through me being there day in and day out riding through a lot of negativity. Or just being there.
The situation with the baby mama was really the end of it. Because this man -- I knew at some level, ain’t no way this man ready to let this woman go if he had two babies with her in less than two years. You know what I’m saying? Whatever he saying is going on -- that the girl been cheating and whatever -- he unpacked the whole tale of abuse. Everything that happened. But because I was going through so much it was like, I don’t have to move in with this man, I can stay with a friend and get my finances back -- but I know he was here for me and it's like God put this possibility of this great love in my life, I’m gon’ try it. So I committed to being in love with him for the summer, and getting this job and stacking my paper and being focused and riding through it and really being in his corner and it was so much. He really does have a lot going on in his mental level. One time he came out the house in the summertime in a damn suede coat. Chile… it took me a minute to talk this man (laughs) into taking that shit off. You know you a good woman if you know your man is crazy as a goddamn roach and you don’t shame or belittle him, you just tell him to go take that shit off and come out in the right clothes, okay? (laughs)
MW: Girl you are a good woman.
(Laughs) Ain’t I?
MW: I think that would have been the day I woulda been like, aw nawl. (Laughs)
I know folks is like, how you gon' be banging the nigga from the special class? Well, it's a long story. I was not trying to y'all, but he showed up for me, loved me. That’s when I needed a friend. And I was just like, that’s what love do, love don’t expose you. Everyone is vulnerable and weak in some way. He has been through some real trauma. And he also has his bachelor’s degree. He did that. And he also is an accomplished artist and a hustler in a righteous sense, and he made it through prison, and he made it through all of that other shit. And I believed he really loved me, even through all of that stuff with that girl. I’m like, I don’t know her motives, I don’t know none of that, I don’t know what you doing God, I don’t know. But I know this thing with me and him is much needed in my life and it's a feeling I never had. I never -- I couldn’t get this thing to happen with my ex fiance, and I don’t know why it's happening right now. It's so weird.
We went through a lot of stuff. Just him like, triggering and being abusive and me showing up and taking it like a fucking doormat. Like if I could just be still, I got enough sense to know he don’t mean all of this terrible shit. Or he’s not seeing this situation clearly right now. And I can pray for him or I can be patient with him. But I just ended up absorbing a lot of emotional blows and a lot of verbal blows. And a lot of mental blows before the physical confrontation ended up happening. And what the impetus was for the physical confrontation -- that’s the only time he’s ever been physical. I can’t say he’s Ike Turner or some kind of woman beater because that’s not true. Verbal shit and mental shit and the magnitude of his mental health issues though, that is true.
But this particular day I had hacked into his phone, because you can’t be a little bit crazy and a little bit slow and then date a really smart girl. You fucking with Lex Luthor, nigga I will hack your whole life while you sleep, you don’t even remember to take the goddamned Popsicle out the bed before you go to sleep. I pay attention to everything in this motherfucker and when you good to me, it is turned in the right direction. When I think you been shady, then you fucking with the wrong one. So I figured out how to get into his phone, tiptoed in that bathroom and read all the messages from that girl. And he really was trying to disclose… I just don’t know what happened… like as this story continues I’m going to run out of understanding. Which is why I needed to talk about it. Because I don’t understand. He was trying to disclose and be honest in a lot of ways. He just has a pattern with women and a history of violence, but when I saw he had been flirting with the girl and had me living in his house, I just was in a rage and I came out of the bathroom like, I’m just gonna let him sleep, I’m going to wait, blah blah blah, and I just couldn’t do it. Now mind you I know this the same man who wake up every morning in a trauma fit ready to fight because of early morning trauma. But I don’t give a fuck about none of that shit.
I moved in with him after I got set out. Evicted. I got set out and there were parts of my life that I flat out lost. Because the day that he came with the U-Haul truck, he had been driving all night and hadn’t slept and was drinking coffee and Red Bulls and shit, trying to move all my shit -- the heavy shit -- all by himself to the truck. And I said I’m not gon' have this man die. And then he had to drive away from me to go to the airport, and I said again, I ain’t gon' have this man die trying to help me. This is just stuff. And God made me prove it. So much of my life- years and years and years of stuff -- this life that I had built, my memories, my photos, so many things that I lost because I didn’t have help and I didn’t have somebody who would let me store a box. And it just hurt. It was just another L after all those L’s I told you about, it was just another L. So I ended up moving in with this guy. And now I am fucking. I didn’t fuck my fiance and he was robbing people. I done lost everything and I’m still trying to practice abstinence and live right. So yeah I’m fucking the shit out of this hankty little cute ass with his soft lips …(laughs) So I went headlong in the direction of this lifestyle.
MW: Was your son living with you at the time?
No, my son missed the whole summer of no lights and no water because as soon as he graduated from high school, my sister was like, you should bring him here. My son’s father has known my son was his since the DNA test when my son was 7, been in his life since he was 5, but has never met him. But in his life meaning we have working phone numbers for each other. Because of this business with my ex, I had to settle my son’s child support case like six months early. He basically got like $2,000 off of his child support order because he covered the money I needed to move into the shitty dump in the worst part of town, Murder Row. He was abusive to me, talked to me bad, played with my nerves, wasn’t gonna send the money, just treated me with all the disdain and bad shit he could do while I was down. And then when my son graduated, the nigga didn’t even call to say congratulations to my boy.
A whole year of nothing but black men shitting on my head, that’s what this year was. I think I even called my dad… my dad is not happy for me at all. For whatever reason my dad has taken to being mad at the women in his life for being mad at him for being a fucking dog. Like, we love you but you done cost us a lot with your abuse on women. How he treats women, it's not cool. All of this for your ego? It's been a lot of pain. So that’s been my year with men of color.
So now we got the guy I moved in with, he is showing up. And because he’s showing up and I know this brother has a vulnerability, it's more endearing to me because I know there are a lotta bitches who would take advantage of him, who would steal shit out of house. Because he is like most black men, is a sex addict basically, and gets all his affirmation through his dick, and I know what that can do to him. So I’m like, I’m going to protect him and I’m going to look out for him and I’m going to clean his place up and I’m going to pray and I’m just going to enjoy having a friend because I needed it so bad. Even though it was so toxic at times because I didn’t know how to be intimate in that context. I don’t think you can know. I think it's abnormal. I think a person would have to have grace from God because you’re dealing with an intimate violation on multiple levels on any given time. Nothing could happen… and yet your man could leave your house one way and not come back because he done had some kind of shift in his mood, like his actual brain chemistry just shifted and his whole mindset is someplace else. And I think there’s a spiritual component there as well, and that he has a tormented spirit. And it's just hard. You ain’t gotta do nothing wrong. You can be laughing and talking and then the relationship is over.
But to get to the day of the abuse - so now I done came out the bathroom after reading all of this shit and I’m in there breaking my goddamn glasses in his kitchen like, ding ding nigga, you done moved the wrong bitch in here to try to date some bitches on me! I’m vulnerable to you and you got the nerve to be giving me good dick and kind of loving me after the worst year ever? I feel like I’m gonna fucking hyperventilate at the thought of you leaving me, at the thought of you giving that energy to another woman because my life was so fucking unstable. I just got sat out in the street and now I live with you. This is scary! Red alert! No! No! No! This gotta be real love because I can’t take much more.
So I just fucking panicked and got in that nigga’s kitchen. Now did he have to put his hands on me? No. I initiated conflict and he initiated the physical component of it. And when he came in that kitchen, he woke up like any grown man would in his own house, to find you breaking shit at 7’oclock in the morning. Brother said, no ma'am, we are going to stop this immediately. He was definitive and was stopping that activity immediately and he just rushed me in the kitchen, like hemmed me up. Wasn’t even like I initiated the fight… he put hands on me and all I had was a wall behind me. It was one of those little narrow kitchens. The counter you could touch on one side, refrigerator you can touch on the other. There was nowhere for me to go. I’d a had to juke him like Emmit Smith to get the fuck out of the kitchen. There was no way to avoid what happened.
So now we in there tussling and I’m doing all I can hitting him but he is kicking my ass. Some kind of way my leg gets lodged on the counter in the kitchen and my body doesn’t follow and I come down in such a way that I really hurt. I can’t put no weight on my leg. I buckle and fall. I can’t stand on it. And he is hemming me up in a way that I can’t breathe and he knows I can’t breathe. He went from trying to deescalate to, now Imma get you bitch. You want to fight in my house, I’m about to fuck your ass up, you don’t know who you fucking with. I don’t. I done fell in love with some feelings on Father’s Day making art. You right, I don’t, this is all too much. I’m traumatized from people just shitting on a bitch till there’s nothing left, till you just see yourself as a bitch. To now being in this situation and you’re physically trying to kill me. There were two moments, because we separated and he came back and hemmed me up again and both times he choked me and I could see in his eyes, like there was a flash of what looked like pleasure in knowing he was hurting me and it scared me.
When he got off of me I grabbed a knife and he left and I smashed a couple lights out and fucked his place up. I hadn’t been in a fight with a man in years. I’ve never had a good man put his hands on me. And now I don’t know if this is a good man, I don’t know if God is in it, I don’t want to be in this city, I am underemployed. I missed God somewhere back before I moved because I wasn’t seeking Him properly and my heart was broken. Maybe God used this relationship to get me here but I don’t know if it's of God if it continues because I’m dealing with all the tumultuousness of it.
You know what I’m sharing with you is a lot. I am firmly committed to this ride or die role, to loving this brother. He really showed up for me, so I need to learn how to love him, learn how to defuse him or whatever needs to happen. Keep working at it. And I was seeing progress. But after this fight I have to call the police. Not because I want to be the girl who now has charges on a black man, but because I can’t walk and I need an ambulance. He crazy and I don’t want him to drive me nowhere. So I give the information -- he done made it so I can’t walk-- this nigga on facebook, I got his password, this goofball still posting on facebook -- I’m deleting shit, changing shit. I could have went harder in the paint. If I was a different kind of woman I could have cleaned his bank account out. I could have got his social security number, locked him out of emails, locked him out of his whole fucking life, and made him go and start over, if I was really a motherfucker. But I’m not.
So I’m seeing all this shit posted on facebook -- she just tried to fight me -- showing the pictures of the scratch on his face and the two little locks I pulled out, just in case the police get involved. Now I’m in the ambulance now, chile. I’m pretty sure I vandalized the place too before I left. He left and I kind of like…. threw eggs everywhere and flour. Might have bleached some shit. You know just went in the paint, like, you gon fight me? Okay! So I kicked over a couple of paintings and shit, you know.
That’s why I was on red alert -- all this shit with the baby mama-- that’s why I was like, don’t have me living with you and be disrespectful. If you want to get back with her, at least let me get my shit out of here, straight up. Don’t do that, after everything else I been through. I ended up going to the hospital and they called an organization that helps people in my position. They don’t always have space but my advocate at the time made space for me. I stayed there for five weeks and it was the most humiliating shit ever. My son -- I’m still claiming that no matter what, my baby gon start college on time -- so the whole time I was petitioning the shelter asking can my son live with me. The Friday before they said he could come I called my son and said, just so you know, we’re staying in a shelter. I told them you’re a certain age so you can stay here with me, you’re going to have to leave everyday -- this is what it is while you’re in school. He committed to doing it with me. I mean, this is the kind of shelter where you get buzzed in and out of your room. You can’t even sit in a separate room than your child. Your child has to be with you at all times. This is all stuff we’d never been through before and it hurt me. Like, this dude is still using my microwave, and I’m living at the shelter. We ain’t made it a month and a half because you flirting with your baby mama and you done moved me in? I’m hurt! And the verbal abuse and the up and down of the relationship didn’t change. I still was trying to make it work with him though.
MW: From the shelter??
From the shelter. And I’m gonna tell you why -- because he was still loaning me his car, he was still coming to see me everyday, coming to see me making sure I was good. It was humiliating for him as well but he was still trying to be with me. And I guess it was like, this could be a learning experience. If we come through this and get counseling and get better, this could be a blessing to others. I take my responsibility so it does not have to escalate to the aggression level in the house. I can’t say he’s a woman beater because he ain’t been in here beating on me. I would be lying on him. We had this incident and I’ve been trying to unpack it all. Like I said, you heard all the other shit that happened. Everybody else done took a shit on my head, you know? I’m tired. And now I don’t even have a roof? And I have less of my shit? My whole life is in three bags. I feel like nothing. It’s just ridiculous.
I wished that it instantly changed, even with that, but some days he was still abusive. At one point I got food poisoning at the shelter. They give you old meat. You can cook anything you want as long as it's from their kitchen but all the food is donated. You have to cook at certain times of the day. So I got the slow cooker, and I done went to great lengths to make me a pot roast with some potatoes, I’m excited about this pot roast, it spent a day and a half slow cooking. I eat this shit and get food poisoning from it. The chills, vomiting, diarrhea, I was ill for two days. I go see him -- because I ain’t seen him in a couple days and that's weird for me. So I’m like, I’m gon' go see him.
He’s mean. He’s in one of those moods where everything is my fault, just like my ex fiance. I think he was bipolar too. Everything was my fault. So I go over his house sick as a dog. Now mind you the week before he had been sick and I took care of him meticulously. I let him breathe on me. Because I felt in my spirit… if I had felt the holy spirit say once, don’t do that, you gon' get sick, I wouldn’t have let him breathe on me. But I knew that what he had, I wasn’t gon’ catch. I just knew it. And I didn’t get sick. But its the fact that I was there taking care of him, traveling on two buses from the shelter, bringing little apples and fruit… I mean I didn’t even have food. I got a dining pass at my son’s school and was stealing food out the cafeteria. If I get two chicken breasts, one for him and one for me. Little shit like that. And I’m going over there taking care of him. But I got sick and he treated me so bad I ended up going home in a Uber. But first I fucked his house up, threw up in his damn sink and I was so sick that all that was left was spit and bile.
Again, he’s bringing something very toxic and vulgar and just savage out of me through all of the ups and downs of the relationship. One minute we cool and the next you in a corduroy coat in the damn summertime, the next minute, you trying to get back with your baby mama, the minute after that you don’t want to be alone talking about, don’t leave me, I’m afraid. The next minute it's something else. It’s so much. And I’m still trying to ride it out, he still saying it’s just me and him, he not trying to get back with his baby mama. Right up until the baby comes. Now he’s being mean to me again. Just verbally abusive and mean. Like he knows I’m a good woman and so he can’t say he wants to try again with the mother of his kid. He can’t say it. He can’t say, I’ve had two babies with this woman and I’m not ready to fully let her go, I love her. I want my kids back. You a great girl but I want her back. And he couldn’t say it so he just was mean to me. But he went down there and the shit didn’t go like he thought it would with the girl.
He had fucked a bitch one time too. Left my house Saturday morning -- we happy, we together, baby I’m coming in, we together -- I never had a man who stayed out all night, I don’t deal with that type of nigga, I just don’t. It’s too much stress. You not finna be not coming home at night. I’m too sexy and fine. Again, I’m Lex Luthor -- I will fuck around and cryptonite your whole life. Encrypt your gotdamn whole life, will fuck you up, don’t do that to me! And I never been the kind of woman to deal with it. This was the first time. We have an amazing weekend, again these moments of synergy. He says, baby Imma be hanging out with the brothers tonight but I’m definitely gonna be home, don’t worry. So at 1oclock in the morning I’m calling him on the phone and he’s not answering. What the fuck is you doing at 1oclock in the morning that you can’t answer the phone and you got a woman? On no day. I can’t be your woman if I can’t reach you at 1oclock in the morning. Do you work for the pentagon? Are you on a stake out? Are you NY undercover and I didn’t know? Why the fuck you can’t answer the phone nigga? What’s going on??
So he don’t answer. I done called all the calls I’m finna call for the night and I done just snapped -- nigga I know you with a woman, fuck you, my heart is broke. My heart is hurt. He never called me, he never came home, he just said, Imma fuck this bitch tonight, I guess it's just me and her. I’m just gon' risk it all even though I got this girl and all her shit still in my house. Because when I left the shelter, I moved into campus housing. I was adamant that I didn’t want my son around that guy one day. And I never modeled shacking up or had no niggas around my son, and I certainly wasn’t finna start with that volatile ass dynamic. So I ended up getting campus housing by a series of serendipitous events, because I had nowhere to go. When I had to leave the shelter I got an extension, I was there five and a half weeks, and the only place to go from there was the mission, the actual homeless shelter, or back to my guy. And because he injured my leg I couldn’t even start work with the one job I did have for a month and a half.
At some point we got back cool and was sort of talking after he did that shit with the girl he was fucking, and all I asked this man was, don’t clown me. Don’t make a clown of me. You want somebody to take pictures on facebook with you and say you in love and all this stuff? Then don’t have me out here looking like a clown, man. And I felt like he did and I was deeply hurt by that. You got my shit in there. You fucking somebody on top of my life in your home. You couldn’t even wait. I’m gon' fuck you up! I don’t care how crazy you are. Nobody’s popping popcorn in my microwave! I already lost everything so that's my mindset at the time. My baby daddy done cheated me out of 2k, I tried to make amends with my ex-fiance and do right by him, and he done left me with a bunch of fucking bills and a bunch of hurt feelings. This other dude I really had feelings for, was harboring this real like, feels like a soulmate type of vibe -- he was like, I will never fuck with you, I feel like you’re terrible, go away. Yeah, I know, you’re in love.
So that’s the year. So now we get to this stuff with dude and I’m like, I would have never picked this guy for myself. Although I had a real spark with him. I’d have never picked a dude with two small children. I would have never picked none of this for myself. God what are you doing? Or is it the devil? Who’s doing it? Because it feels like shit! He’s doing really bad, traumatic, toxic things to me. I’m trying to make amends and he’s like, I gotta go see my baby, don’t worry I’m not trying to get back with my baby mama. I’m like okay well let me come by, let us talk about it. Because he wouldn’t see me. And again, I think he’s doing that so he won’t have no kind of feeling or conviction when he goes down there to fuck that girl. I’m finally gonna see him and I’m like I’m finna come to your house. Now mind you he’s still got my shit but he’s not answering my calls. He’s got me blocked online, he’s being rude, curt, but he’s still got my furniture. Why do you deserve to keep all my stuff? I don’t know if he’s going to move this baby mama back up here to his apartment. She’s a basic ass girl, pretty girl, cute little dark skinned girl, but a basic girl, you know, work at McDonalds, hood family, mama dating an addict, this girl is everywhere. This is every baby mama in the projects right now. A girl, for real. Literally a girl still. And I don’t know if he’s going to bring her back and now she gon be in there living with my shit, I really don’t know. All I know is when I showed up at his house -- I didn’t know he had inboxed me like don’t come, I’m gonna get on the plane.
I ended up going all the way on the bus to his house and he’s not there. And I just lost it. This is my one real heart. I done cried a million times… walked… done spent five weeks trying to make it work with this nigga, and still this woman crooks her finger and he goes. And goes knowing I’m coming to his house to meet beforehand. Still telling me he love me, all this shit. I just couldn’t take it. And shimmied my injured ass, knee brace and all, up the side of his balcony and jerry rigged some damn chairs out there on the side of the building, and climbed that shit like a Lego tower, and got upstairs on his patio and (laughs). He called it a home invasion. I’ve never been a felon.
So now I’m in okay, and looking around this motherfucker like, what can I touch. I’m looking for other girls stuff in there...because literally my jewelry is still in his bathroom. So what kind of bitch is coming by to fuck and I got a box of jewelry in the bathroom? Who did the nigga say the shit belonged to? Niggas don’t buy throw pillows! It boggled my mind. So I tabulated in my head how much it would cost to replace the stuff that I didn’t think I was ever gonna move out of his place if he still don’t do right. My shit is still at his house right now, mind you. Not because I want it there but because I can’t afford a U-Haul. Which is full of shit. I actually have to go to his job, pin him down and be like, can I have the key right now to move my things out please?
The first day I went, the day he stayed out with that damn girl, I couldn’t take it. I cried as many days as I was gonna cry and ended up going to his house, popped his car tires and left. Was trying to have a conversation with him, scared as hell, prayed the whole time, Lord please don’t let there be a woman on my stuff. I just can’t take that. It’s been a long year. Now mind you, this is all out of character. I never popped my ex fiance’s tires. But this is after a year of hell and bullshit that I have finally reached my maniac level. This motherfucker is fucking bitches on the remnants of the last little bit of my life! Oh hell no, in the mighty name of Jesus, we ain’t having none of that! I just couldn’t take it! So, he done went to see his baby mama, I climbed the thing and I’m in there tabulating, $2000 for my table and chairs, this and that, okay, how much shit I gotta fuck up for us to be even steven?
So I done tore up a bunch of stuff and then left, spray painted dog on the door, cheater. I’m like, you gon bring this bitch back like y’all on a damn honeymoon? I want the bitch to know, I was here. Okay? This motherfucker didn’t just get taste all of a sudden, this my shit in here. And he better know I don’t appreciate being violated. Injured me and now he adding insult to the shit, its too much. I felt like I couldn’t take no more, like my heart couldn’t, my soul couldn’t. I’m hyperventilating and crying, I just felt violated, like a communal raping from the brothers in the community. I vandalized enough shit to feel like I got my dignity back. I popped them tires like a real thug, fuck you and fuck this car, ok? (Laughs) And left on the bus! And went to my second job like, oh well, cest la vie, it is what it is. He came back four days later after gallivanting butt naked and the baby mama pulling her titty out… I said, you mean to tell me your baby mama was breast feeding around you and you ain’t fuck her? You fucked the shit out of her! Came back had his dick itching, feet itchy...I’m like, I don’t know if the bitch dirty, you dirty, I know you can’t never fuck me again and I know I was giving you five years of saved coochie. That was a special blessing, and the best head ever, and he fucked it up. For what? He got to be crazy. We doing art fairs together, I’m helping him sell his art, he teaching me his hustle on every level... if he was a little bit less crazy he’d be the perfect guy. All the while I’m working, working, working and he was in and out of life.
That was a horrific story, wasn’t it? It’s got to get better… and it is. Right now I’m walking, I have three jobs. I literally go to work before the sun comes up and I come home after dark. It’s dark all the damn time. And I’m like, sleeping four hours a night. But I gotta trust that it will get better. I cried about it. Folks don’t know, every time that someone has abdicated a role of communal protection, something bad happened to me. And while you marveling at my strength -- my ex fiance just called and he was thankful that I could pray for him about his case -- its like you don’t understand. I’m over 30. I was a high risk pregnancy with my son when I was a teenager and I almost died. This year I could have been making love to my husband, I could have been preparing my temple, my body to rest, and all that money that you working for, you’d have had somewhere to put it. You don’t have no kids. And a woman that you know cares about you because you’ve known her so long. Or a woman you know care because she moved into your place when your shit was in squalor, when you were heartbroken and too traumatized to wake up without fighting. And she loved you! I feel like in every way… I just didn’t feel confident.
There was this other guy -- he was never nice to me. Why you don’t never tell me I’m pretty? He would refuse; it was if he would rather you leave me feeling worse. You can’t help but see I’m going through something. I’m not trying to fake it and hide it, I’m asking for help. I feel l’m drowning. I’m telling you I can’t take no more, I can’t do no more. And in all those moments nobody showed up for me to the point like I felt like nothing and tried to kill myself, to the point where somebody else tried to kill me twice in one day. He actually tried to kill me twice in one day. He tried to choke me the first night I was at the fucking shelter -- on crutches. I agree to meet him, it's 1am -- he shows up high as a kite on recreational drugs-- he’s been doing shrooms. This nigga has a chemical imbalance, and the pills, I know he didn’t take the pills because I got them here with me! I got mad and took the shit out the house. Not my finest hour, I wanna give the nigga back (laughs) his pills cus he needs to take em! (laughs) So he drunk, high on shrooms, and storms out the car on me cus he lost $100. Ookay. To the point where I just got out with my crutches and started hopping through downtown back to the shelter at 3am. Ifelt like a fool. I felt like any fucking hobo, I couldn’t even run. If somebody wanted to rape me… I’m trying to get around downtown at night a lone. And he sped off and left me when I got out the car. Got out the car because he was being verbally abusive, very much so. I’m like, ok, well he needs to know, he can just ride while I hop home. That’s the protocol right now. And he’s so out of his fucking mind he just pulled off and left me! He left me many times. And yet will show up and buy all the prints at my art show. Play music at my art show. Help me sell things.
MW: That’s so fucked up.
It's so fucked up, he can't do no better. I’m working my third job, I just got my third job as a TA in a classroom for children in the retardation bracket, their IQ is around 50. They have Downs Syndrome, Cerebral Palsy, Autism, those sorts of things, some kind of impairment. So they have a lot of behavioral issues, and I’m learning a lot of things. It’s not small thing to try to date somebody with mental health issues. Or someone who’s been incarcerated or a trauma survivor with PTSD. Those are the two things I know he has for sure- PTSD and he’s bipolar. And he really loved me. I’m not saying he didn’t really love this girl too -- I’m not saying none of that. I’m saying I didn’t… it feels unfair and it feels unjust and after all the other stuff that happened, that I’ve been confronted with love in a way that feels completely undoable. And again, through no fault of my own, I’m alone, and I’m uncovered, and I’m going through all this stuff, and again I didn’t have anybody to say, did you eat today? How you doing? It just hurt. And I’ve cried about it and I’ve talked to God about it, and I believe God, and I believe there is a husband for me. It will take God to find him.
MW: I know that they fucked up, but when you look back, you really didn’t want to be married to any of them. When you look back, they were your best options at the time but like you said, you wouldn't have chosen them. You feel like you were put with them, but I don’t think you’ve met the caliber of man you deserve, and that just takes patience. But God forbid you meet the man you’re meant to be with, and you’re married to a man who fucking is stealing tvs or a dude who is wearing suede coats in the summer time.
MW: You’d be so mad! (laughs) You’d be so mad that the dude you were meant to be with, who was your equal, rolled up on you and you were Mrs. Summertime Suede Coat. I’m just saying.
(Laughs) It’s true.