June 20th was a warm day in Brooklyn, when I woke I found myself in a pool of sweat. The room was humid, you almost felt as though you could slice the air like pie. I was rudely awaken from my dream by my obnoxiously loud ringer. I wanted desperately to go back to my dream that involved me marrying Idris Elba. We were about to consummate our union, when the phone disturbed me. Oh well, it was a dream, so nothing to get excited about, thought it felt so real. When I moved my mask from my eyes and grabbed my phone resting on the nightstand, I saw the name and sent the call to voicemail. I know that’s a douche bag move but he wasn’t deserving of an answer.
He called about ten times back to back before I put my phone on silent. I stumbled out of the bed and realized my legs and arms were sore. I don’t recall the woman getting that many swings in but hey, such is life. I walked over to the window in a snail like motion. My head hurt from being hungover and my body ached from fighting. Sadly enough, I had no idea who this woman was, all I knew was she was booed up in a corner with Robert when we walked into Brooklyn Moon. I opened the window and heard the ice cream truck making its way down my block. I was tempted to run down the stairs and get me a cone but was too achy. I felt dehydrated, so I made my way to my kitchen.
When I walked into the kitchen, it was obvious that I brought some of that anger home with me. It looked like I had a fight with my kitchen. The week old bouquet of roses, which was his attempt to get back in my good graces, after I caught him with a woman, two weeks prior, were now on the floor, with the broken vase in a puddle of water. The roses lay on the floor, as dead as our relationship. I looked at my window and beneath the windowsill, laid my once mounted wine rack, and the wine bottles were at the base of the stove, thankfully unbroken. I had way too much Tequila last night. What was I thinking?! Ugh…I should had never let my boy Starrtender convince me to try his new concoction, when I stopped by Milk River. He sure knows how to make a drink. He is so darn heavy handed with his drinks though. Sigh! I surveyed my kitchen and was in shock as to the condition. I began cleaning up but was stopped suddenly by a glass that suddenly pierced my foot. Now I have to deal with a cut under my feet and blood staining my floor.
After I cleaned up the kitchen, I hobbled my now bandage foot into my living room. When I walked into my living room, I saw my home girl Naadira, passed out on my carpet, fully dressed and her “ruby woo” lips, nicely smeared on my cream color carpet. I yelled in the highest octave “Naadira, Get UP!!!” She did not budge. I walked over and nudged her with my feet. “Naadira. Get up babe!” She opened her eyes, like this was the first time she saw the light of day. I was a prick, so I walked over to my drapes and pulled them back, letting in all the BRIGHT sunlight. She sucked her teeth, like a true Trini-woman and cussed me in under her breath, in her Trinidadian jargon.
“Michelle, where’s Paula?” I told her that last I remember, her man escorted her out of the lounge. She told me to check on her to make sure. When I called Paula, she seemed pissed. She began by scolding me about her disappointment in my actions last night. I tried to interrupt and defend myself but she shut me down each time. “Michelle, you are too grown for this kind of behavior. What were you thinking?! We are in our 40’s, you looked like an immature child unable to control herself. Fighting over a man that can’t keep his ding-a-ling in his pants. Stop making excuses for his actions and own the fact that you are taking crumbs from someone unable to give you more.” I was silent and took it all in because everything she said was true. I played myself and made a fool out of myself.
I’ve been with Rob for two years, and caught him cheating four times. The first time was with his second child’s mother. The times after were with women he met at the lounge he owns in BedStuy. I resented him for opening the business. I wanted to partner with him and he told me, that privilege was reserved for his wife. Those words pierced like a knife but I had no fight in me at the time. Although it was my $40,000, he needed in order to get his business up and running. His credit was so crappy so I did like what any good woman would do and gave him the money. I thought I was being a good woman but in actuality, I was foolish for prematurely giving money to someone not willing to give me his last name.
The times I caught Rob fooling around, was not by chance, I had help. One of the security guards that likes me would always send me pics of Rob in action with the caption, “Boys will be boys. When are you going to get with a real man?!” Whenever he sent me these text, I would rush to the lounge but as I got to the door, the other security guard would act like he forgot who I was. I learned that he did that in order to give Rob a heads up that I was there. He would have me wait at the door and go inside and obviously warn my man. By the time I walked in, most of the time, in sneakers, spandex, and a t-shirt, he would have cleaned up his act. I didn’t realize then how crazy I looked walking in there looking crazy, sometimes with my hair pulled back, only thing missing is vaseline on my face.
On May 25th, the disloyal guard wasn’t at the door. My insider was working the door that night and let me in with no issues. I walked in like a hound dog, searching every corner for my cheating behind man. Finally I spotted him, caught in the darkest part of the lounge, kissing on this female I knew from the beauty salon in Clinton Hills. She knew he had a girl but could care less. It turns out that I use to date her baby father, who I wound up cutting off. The vicious cycle is a bit more complex than you’d imagine. I broke up with her baby father to be with Rob, and he broke up with her to be with me. YES, karma is a biatch!!
That night I ran up on them, she saw me coming ahead of time. She got up and positioned herself ready to defend herself. Something within me told me to rush them, so I began running towards them. As I got within arms reach, she swung at me. I ducked, caught her with a right hook to the jaw. Her cheap, .99 cent gold hoop earrings, flew across the room and her head cocked to the right. I went to hit her again but she caught me in the stomach, guess I have to pay better attention in boxing class with my trainer Nay-Shaun. He always tells me that I have a strong jab but I am poor with blocking hits. Well, when I went to kick her, Rob grabbed me by the waist, threw me on his shoulder and hauled me towards the door. I kicked and fought, calling out all kinds of obscene words to her. She stood on the platform of the seated area, smirking at me and blowing kisses. I was so heated but there was nothing I could do as the six security guards held my arms and legs until I was outside of the lounge.
When we got outside, Rob hailed a taxi, gave the driver $30, and told me he’d see me in the morning. When I got in, I sent him a text so he knew I was safe. It was so odd but he was extremely calm. Not once did he look me in the eye, I could feel his embarrassment, shock, and anger. He arrived at 5 am, slammed the door and walked into the room, seemingly ready to argue. What happened next was something he had never done before. He dragged me out of the bed and pulled me into the living room. The living room was facing the back of the building and no one could hear my screams if he did anything to me there. It’s apparent that he was drunk and was not in his right mind. I screamed as loud as I could but no one came to my rescue. For the next ten times, though it felt like an hour; he beat me. I don’t mean the kind of beating that your parents give you. No, this beating was violent, it was laced with venom and his target was me.
After he grew tired of pounding my face and body with hits, he walked into the bathroom. As I laid on the floor, bleeding from my nose and mouth, all I could do was pray that he would not come back to beat on me some more. Moments later, I heard the shower running. I cried, screamed, but no one was there to hear my plea. At this point, my vision was blurry. I could not see through my black eye. Once he was done with his shower, he went in the room and began watching TV. Not once did he come back to check on me. He left me there on the floor, like a piece of garbage. I must have dozed off for three hours because once I awoke the clock, which was now on the floor, said 8am. The phone ringing was what stirred my slumber. I was sore, weak, and therefore; could not move. I listened for the caller-id to indicate who was calling me this early. I heard it blurt out, “Angela Bryan”, my mother was calling. I tried desperately to crawl as quick as possible to my desk. However, before I could answer, I heard Rob answer the phone in the bedroom, “Good morning! Hi Ms. Bryan! Yes, she’s good. No, she’s in the shower. I will have her call you as soon as she gets out. No problem. Have a great day beautiful!”. He hung up the phone, walked in the living room and said, “…”
Stayed tuned to Part II. Please follow this page for immediate updates on posts.
I realize as human beings that we decide who we choose to give our hearts to. It is not easy to open up to others, especially when you are not certain how they will reciprocate. Oftentimes we search for quality people because in this world we live in, more often that we suspect, people don’t always have the best intentions. Though they appear as they are genuine, their true self always gets revealed. Moreover, we are not psychics so we are unable to decipher who will be the real deal. Realistically, we cannot live our lives without giving people a chance to show their true colors. It is inevitable for us to learn to accept people for who they are and then you must adjust accordingly.
Recently there was a shift in my life, a shift I did not foresee happening, nor did I plan for it. The shift felt more like a shove, a punch, a swift kick to the jaw. The pain was instant and the hurt was deeper than a sword being forced deep into your heart. The sword however, cut both ways, and the blood (which was the pain and disappointment) poured through me and spilled into every crevice of my life. Though on the outward it appeared as though I was fine, inwardly I was slowly decaying. At that moment in time, I lost something, someone, very close to me. I thought of ways to get back what I lost because to me, I prefer quality over quantity any day. Not to mention, the minuscule thing that brought about the dissension was not worth me risking the lost of someone that important to me.
However, it was not up to me to decide when the reconciliation should commence. It has to be something both parties wish to engage in. If either party is not willing to have closure, then trust me, it will not be resolved. In my efforts to reconcile, I realized that there was more bad than good. It was confusing to me that I kept this individual in my life for such a lengthy period of time. To add to, acceptance was painful because I had to accept that this person was not truthful about how they felt about me. One thing that I respect is honesty but I have no tolerance for phoniness. If you are for me, then “Hooray”, if you are not, then communicate what is bothering you. No one person is perfect, so it is obvious that you are going to say, do, or even act out in a way that may be deemed inappropriate.
Therefore, I can respect when someone who claims they (love you like a fat kid loves cake) tells you how something you are doing or done is affecting them; at whatever capacity. What I do not appreciate is when that individual chooses to hold things inside and when they (unleash the dragon) attack you by bringing up stuff that happened years prior. No matter how truthful the claim, it is not fair to the person on the receiving end to be confronted with past issues, that were never brought to their attention. Nonetheless, as I sat and listened to the verbal lashing, I wondered, how many times have I been around this person and never, NOT ONCE, did they mention their true feelings.
Inwardly sitting there and listening felt like a brutal attack. I heard things that I did that I forgot that I did and stuff too long ago to remember, so I had no recollection because unbeknownst to me, their had been an underlying issue. Needless to say, when it came time for me to defend myself, it fell on deaf ears. I learned a great deal from that situation and hopefully, someone out there in cyber world can learn from what I endured.
For starters, avoid the following…
1) Don’t wait years to bring up things you don’t particularly like about your friend.
2) Don’t act like everything is cool if in essence, it really is not.
3) Take ownership for your part in the situation and don’t get defensive. Well at least TRY not to be defensive
4) Listen very careful to what they are saying
5) Forgiveness does not mean you will go back to being friends
6) Respect how people handle things, even if you don’t agree with their approach (we are all human beings and we all deserve the same respect)
7) Don’t use social media to air your dirty laundry (you can’t bad mouth someone conducting a matter in a classy way but ratchetness is and will always land you in the Hall of Shame)
8) Being silent does not mean you are weak, it is a true reflection of your strength
9) Learn what it means to choose your friends wisely
Lastly, I shared what I lost and briefly I will share what I found. I found out that I was friends with an enemy for 5 years and did not know it. I found out that you can forgive and not hate. I learned that the best part of being me is having a loving heart. I found out that when I hurt, it hurts those closest to me. They hurt because I am not myself and I become a shell of who I truly am. Today I am wiser and stronger than I was 8 weeks ago. In time I trust that I will fully recover from this lost but today is a good day. My bruise hurt but it is what it is, a bruise, it is meant to hurt in order to connect with the pain. The pain is my friendly reminder to be more careful of who I let into my heart and life. Honestly speaking, I could never really hate someone that I loved in the way I loved that person. In other words, I love this person even to this day but I DISLIKE who they have become. For that reason, I release my anger so that I can heal.