Love Made Me Do It (7 page)

We were in a fog that was so dense you could cut thru it with a knife. The drug combination acted like a truth serum and he began telling me how much he missed me.  He questioned when would return to California. I lowered my head “When I get better and you get rid of her.” I knew I wasn’t emotionally well.  He knew that too. But he was a man and he was selfish.  He wanted all of me when he wanted it.  Not just when I wanted to give it. I probably reached at least eight climaxes that night.

Sunday, came so fast and today was the day I would get on a plane back to Arizona.  Back to the suffocating heat.  Back to being away from the reason I breathe…..him. I woke up naked and smiling and decided to cook breakfast.  I felt my sense of being normal, seeping out of my body.  I needed to act fast. 

Breakfast was a hit, we talked, laughed and channel surfed the morning away. I packed my stuff and then I decided to let it all out. “So she lives here now?”  My lover stuttered, “Nah, she doesn’t live here.” “You‘re a muthafuckin’ lie.”   “Why is all of her shit here?” My temperature and my voice began to rise.  “You don’t love me, you say it but you don’t act like it.”  He said “Johnson, it’s time to go to the airport”.

I wasn’t going anywhere and it would take hell and high water to make me go. He began putting my stuff in the truck. I didn’t give a fuck at that point.  He was going to listen to me.  So I stood there and shook my head like a stubborn two year old. That’s when shit got real. He picked me up and tried to physically move me out the front door.  I held onto the pane of the doorway with all my might.  I lost my grip.

Now I was being carried and thrown into his truck.  The ride to the airplane was brutal, no words, no tears and loud music. When I attempted to lower the volume, he grabbed my wrist.  “You better be cool.”

I cried hysterically, “Why, why, why!”  The airport was rapidly approaching. Pulling up to the curb at the airport.  He jumped out and grabbed my luggage.  I sat and watched. He tried to take me out the car. I held on tight “Please I love you, I don’t wanna go.” “I wanna stay with you, we love each other,” one mad tear streaked down his cheek.  “Get out.”

I sat at the airport hoping he would come back, he didn’t. I boarded my plane. The tears on my face had dried up.  I smiled thinking, that when they make love somebody would feel the panties that I left behind.  That would let her know…I had been here.  And I would be back.

Sitting at the airport feeling stupid, but kind of satisfied at the same time. You want to feel important but you have to reserve your dignity. I left my dignity the same place I left my panties… in his bed.

Way before Beyoncé was singing about “Dangerous Love” I was living and breathing it. I didn’t allow myself to think about what happened on my weekend trip, on my plane ride home. Thinking about him, her and us made my head ache.  So I shut down all thoughts and just looked out the window.

When I finally made it into the house I was exhausted. I had work at 5am so I crashed.  I didn’t dream.  I didn’t think. I just slept. When my alarm clock went off at 4am, I felt a sudden waive of sadness. I was once again alone.  I wished I had one of those blunts to roll so that I could escape the inevitable. But I was out of my element I wouldn’t even know, where to buy drugs at out here. I didn’t need drugs anyway. That would just cause a whole other set of problems. So as I slowly peeled myself out of bed.  I had to do what was necessary, for me to survive. I kneeled down and prayed.  I asked God, to remove everyone from my life that meant me harm.

Through all my self-inflicted mayhem, God has never let me down.  Prayer worked for months to come. Christmas came and went and I had no contact with my lover.  Whenever my phone rang, it was only people I didn’t want to talk to.

CHAPTER 8

A BRAND NEW YEAR

New Year’s come and went. I carried on with my life as best as I could.  Until, I couldn’t take it anymore. His birthday was coming up.  That would be my segway back into his life.  But I couldn’t swallow my pride to call on the exact day. So I called the weekend after.  The roommate answered and boy did he have a lot to tell me.

The roommate was evidence that men tend to gossip more than women.  Especially, if they think that they’re going to get some pussy.  I listened intently as he told me about my lover and his girlfriend. I held my anger in.  So that I could continue hearing the information if his roommate thought I was mad he would stop talking. These two were having the time of their life. Plus, my lover’s two kids were visiting for the summer
.  What a happy fucking family they must be
. 

My heart sank with every word about their love. I almost hung up the phone.  Until, I heard that my lover was leaving her with the kids every day and disappearing at night. I thought to myself…
ha ha, bitch, that’s what you get.
A tiger never changes their stripes.  Just like men, they are creatures of habit.  Bound to do the same things, always. 

I wrapped up the conversation with the roommate.  When I closed my eyes I saw a glimmer of hope…the glimmer of happily ever after.  Maybe I was the one.  Maybe I could change him in a way that she couldn’t. He was
m
y tiger. I called again the next day and my lover answered the phone. I wished him a happy belated birthday and told him that I loved him dearly. He remained silent.

It was a hard transition for both of us and I felt that thru the awkward silence. He broke his silence with an “I love you too Petunia.” I loved that pet name.  That solidified our union, at least for that moment. But things were different.  A lot of time had lapsed.  I had done a lot of praying when we weren’t talking.  I was hoping that my obedience to God would change our relationship. God showed me things that I wasn’t able to recognize before. I had a vision of what I wanted my relationship to look like with the man in my life. As hard as I prayed, I felt like that call could be the start of a new beginning.  But there was still her.

God made me a lover and I never denied that calling. I am thankful for that blessing. I say that to say this.  I understood why she didn’t let go. I understood why and how she loved my lover. I could hate her, which I did.  But I also understood her. I wondered if we could all just live together and please him.  Cohabitate in peace and love, but that was never going to happen.  So I let go for that moment after the phone call ended.  I wished him the best in life and love.

As I continued to live and I reflect on what God needed and wanted me to be.  I made wonderful friends and prayer warriors at my church. I gained a deeper understanding of the bible and I was even baptized. I had a renewed strength. As I found more strength to approach my life, I found a lack of balance in other places. It was always something. 

Working at American Express was wonderful, church life was great, but there was a severe lack of structure in the household I was living in. Slowly, I was losing my patience and it was showing.  I admit that I’m not the easiest person to get along, especially if I’m depressed.   But without structure and balance, situations are guaranteed to arise.  I had been in Arizona for 4 1/2 months.  It was time for me to go back to California.

My sister was enticing me to come back and live with her.  Even though we were often like oil and vinegar.  I gave it some thought. Then I had a call from my love.  It was like he read my mind and felt my heart.  Only soul mates have that connection.  It had been almost two months since our last conversation. It was ironic that he called.  I made up my mind.  I was going home to California.

I had sent him a care package as a late birthday gift.  It included a Men’s Devotional Bible, his favorite cologne and a letter telling him where my heart was at.  My heart would always be in tune with his even when we were apart. He was very thankful. “So when are you coming back?” “I’ll be home next month.”

God was good and I was going to work on me.  Hopefully, my lover could be included in this new journey of self-discovery and spirituality.  If not, then I would probably have to fuck him up.  I knew that no matter what happened.  When I went back to California it was guaranteed, to be full of unexpected surprises. But I was ready.  With God for me, who could be against me?

CHAPTER 9

GETTING BACK TO HIM

Honestly, I don’t think that I was really ready to go back to California.  Spiritually I felt that I was ready to go back.  But I know myself.  I was too anxious. Once again love was making me do it.  Love was driving every muscle in my body and controlling my thoughts.  Even if things didn’t go how I wanted them to go. I needed to see the downward spiral first hand. Sounds crazy right? I think so too.

I know that being molested plays a huge role in my life and my intimate interactions with men. I was uprooting myself again, for reasons that made no sense.  I lacked rational judgment when it came to my lover.  Once a love like that starts to possess you, it becomes an addiction.  You will do anything to experience that high.  The move from Arizona was a smooth transaction, for the most part.

I quit my good job.  Said good bye to the few friends I had and began to plan my life back home. Just as we discussed I went to live with my sister, her fiancé and my nephew. When I came home it felt foreign to me. As soon as I was settled, I called him. He answered but then gave the phone to his roommate.  Something I shouldn’t have tolerated.  The roommate told me that he would call me back.  But he didn’t call back. 

Instead, they showed up at my sister’s house. When I heard the knock at the door I had a feeling that it was him.  We were connected like that. As soon as I opened up the door he hugged me like only he could. It was such a wonderful, warm and loving. There we were in the door way of my sister’s apartment.  Back in each other’s arms. Life was as good as it could get.  I let him and the roommate in the house.   We all sat in the living room. I went and sat on my lovers lap and held is face in my hands.  He smiled. He asked if we could talk outside.  “Of course we can.”

What he told me caught me off guard.  I had to ask for his roommate when I called.  If it was cool, he would get on the phone.  But if it wasn’t cool that he would have to call me back. I knew it.  Nothing had change.  Moving back would have to be about me and my life.  If I left it solely in his hands, I would be hurt…and he would be dead.

I didn’t even know how to process what he said to me. I stayed silent. We went back in the house.  I sat there stunned and dizzy, fighting back my tears. The next few days were a blur. I couldn’t I sleep, or eat. I could barely talk. I literally walked around like a mute. Luckily my sister didn’t play…grown people don’t get to mope around the house.

So after a week of moping, I got off the couch and started looking for a job. I won’t lie I followed his directions on how to call him. But that only led to arguments.  Eventually she caught on, that I was back in town. I knew that technically I was in the wrong. I was breaking the girl code. He had a woman.  They were in an active relationship.  But I wanted him back and he was mine.  Period.  Point.  Blank.

It was obvious that my lover and I were going to fade out of each other lives.  I just didn’t know when.  Every time I heard her voice and she heard mine, it was never good. The words that we exchanged were extreme low blows. One night our arguing was so volatile. I begged my sister for her car keys.  So that I could drive over there and fight her, my sister wasn’t having it.

Eventually, my lover blocked my phone number from being able to call his house. I found my way around that. I was crafty, impulsive, and obsessed. I called one night but to my dismay they weren’t home.  Instead I had a lengthy conversation with the roommate.  This was a prelude to another set of problems that I would acquire.

I was naïve, and depressed. Eventually, the roommate and I started to have an affair.  Not a sexual affair.  But an affair of like-minded brains and hearts.  We bother were attempting to achieve a common ground.  Love.  But looking back, he was trying to acquire pussy and have one up on my lover.

At first it was totally innocent, but it was emotionally orgasmic. I was getting information about my loves relationship.  Being heard and being able to vent.  But in between I was being flirted with.  We emailed each other poetry and witty statements.  I was falling in love with his mind.  Honestly I never gave a fuck about the roommate.  Only what he could do for me.