D for Disaster

September 16, 2006 at 10:13 pm (Agony and Ecstacy, College, General stuff)

I’m not sure why I’m writing this post. I think in three years I haven’t gotten rid of some of the anger built up inside of me. Sometimes, I still want to call him and tell him to get ass raped in the furthest reaches of hell. But, there are days where I can’t hold my feelings in anymore. I hope this post can get all of my left over feelings out in the open…..

When I was about 18, after I broke up with James, the college hockey player who left me with sexual frustration and an expensive phone bill, and was single for a while. That summer brought a man, I’ll call him D because everyone I know knows his name and I don’t think personally it’s worth repeating anymore. (Sides it’s a lot shorter than calling him Dipshit or He who should never be named) He was cute and sweet. He had brown mousy hair, brown eyes, with cherry skin, tall and a thick but not muscle-less build. He romanced me and swept me off my feet. Everything was going gravy…Until I had to move away to college.

My first semester of college was a total nightmare…..a borderline of fuckups in stereo. Let me give you the backdrop: this was the first time I would be away from my home town of the Chi for an extended period of time besides vacation. I would be in the middle of the woods, in a new state, not knowing any one and being 600 miles away from family and friends. I was scared shitless. My roommate Jessica, who at first I thought would be nice was cruel, manipulative and a total bitch. I was stuck on a floor from hell, with people who’s backstabbing shallow verisions of friendship sickened me. (Basically, think of Laguna beach 24-7 and you’d get the idea) Me and another girl were the only minorities who lived there. After she left, I was the only black female in our house period…I dunno whether or not Jessica hated me because I was black, if she hated me because I was the exact anthesis of her or if I was the scapegoat of her many psychological and emotional problems. The jury is still out on that one….but then again my first semester was not completely full of woe…I ended up getting a job at the Diversity office at my school. I made friends with people and life progressed on….then the honeymoon phase of my relationship ended and went to hell from there…

He would call me and get into fights with me daily. When I would be either at work or classes or visting friends, he would accuse me of cheating on him. In fact I think I could of been breathing wrong and he would accuse me of cheating. It was the “If she’s not here or if she is around other men, even if they’re gay, she’s fucking around” type logic….I found it amusing because I can remember all of those college nights when my roommate would have her rotating cavalcade of bf’s and I would be sleeping by myself….alone…..

Then, there was the times he was supposed to visit. I would be sitting in my room, dressed up…waiting…..waiting….And everytime, he would have an excuse. Once, he told me he got into a car accident. Another time, he told me his grandmother died, which I later found out was a lie.

One thing I always will probably hate him for would be that one day we were having a convo about our future and marriage, and I said I’ll get married when I’m out of school and he had the nerve to tell me “Why do you even bother, you told me yourself you don’t like school, you’ll never graduate” Yes, I know, what a keeper I was with, right?

One time, I got so mad I lied to him and said I slept with someone else. My father explained it best: If one keeps on getting accused of something then eventually they’ll just get pissed of and say, “Yes, I did it, now what motherfucker?” just so they don’t have to hear it anymore…. Then again, in love I’m very much my father’s daughter and a glutton for punishment, so I asked him to come back. He said the only way he would forgive me was if i transferred schools…I liked my school and didn’t want to leave it. After all the drama, I broke up with him. His parting words were, “Once a whore, always a whore” and other things that I’d rather not repeat. I was sad and I wondered at the time did I make a mistake, but I knew deep down I would me miserable if I stayed.

 The next semester things were better, I had moved away from Jessica, I was rooming with my friend Jamie and even though I was hurt and lonely at least I had my school and job and friends to rely on. Around that time, I found something I shouldn’t of found. I found a girl’s website. She was talking about how much she loved her husband, and how wonderful he was. I thought that was sweet….until I saw his name….I thought it was a fluke,  maybe lots of people had that name…but no, everything she said about him matched up and that’s when I knew……

Her husband was my boyfriend….and apparently I wasn’t the only girl he was dating either….

I used to hate him, so much, for abusing me, for using me, for making me the other woman when that is the last thing I’ve ever wanted to be (Because of the breakdown of my parent’s relationship). But time has passed, and I no longer hate him. I will never forget or forgive him, screw that logic, but I don’t hate him.

But then again, I have to thank him. If he wasn’t such an asshole, I wouldn’t know what real love is and what wasn’t. Despite and in spite of him i’m on the cusp of gaining my first degree. I’ve become more self reliant and am happy whether i’m in a relationship or not.

In the end, I guess I can only pity him. He cannot love himself, let alone another person. I on the other hand can and will until the day I die. I will never erase myself for anyone else’s happiness and I’m a stronger person for it. I’m just glad I learned from it and I hope I don’t make the same mistakes again

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1 Comment

  1. sarah said,

    wow. i actually read it all, something that i rarely ever do. intersting stuff to say+good writing = fun to read.

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