This Is What You Came For

This Is What You Came For

2/1/2018

We broke up in February 2016 in the most horrible way, just few days shy of Valentines day, AND shortly after i had given him $150 towards his light bill. You see, although he claimed to “love” me, I didn’t have my own place, an amazing job, or a car and I could tell he was growing tired of having to be a man and take care of himself by himself. He couldn’t use me. It didn’t matter that I was faithful, truly cared about him and his opinions, and that, when I wasn’t with him, I was thinking of him. None of that mattered. You see, he was a 35 year old drug dealer from the hood and I was a 22 year old dental receptionist from the suburbs. He was the beast that jumped at prey and opportunity and I was the naive, lonely, broken hearted girl looking for real love. For a while we existed together, bound tightly by passion, excitement, and the sheer thrill of a new thing. Happiness lived between us until the night I had the audacity to go out with my girls after he had caught “feelings” for me. At first it was “Ok. have fun, hmu later” text messages but an hour later I was getting abusive paragraphs filled with bitch, hoe, and dick sucking. I got my party on and woke up the next day shocked and pissed at first, then hurt and sad then flattered and relieved that he was so scared of losing me that he couldn’t control himself. So with me being naive, as I mentioned earlier, he apologized and I forgave. Sadly though, after that even with all the bending and compromising I tried to do for him, every time we had a disagreement I became that bitch and hoe again and I took it, 1) because I cared about him and 2) because I believe in making up and fixing things not just giving up. So come February–7 months in, I believe–he’s acting as if we’d been married 10 years and I’m that can’t-get-it-right housewife that needs to be verbally chastised everyday. I couldn’t understand why, every time I tried to do what he said, things just got worse.

I remember calling him that last day because I missed him and wanted to talk and he starts yelling at me at the top of his lungs about me needing to let him do what he wants to do (which I never tried to stop him from doing); I took that to mean he doesn’t want me calling anymore, so I say I won’t and hang up. Minutes later I get a text saying “It’s really over this time” and so on. He was in the car putting on a whole production for the next girl and I cried again. I was crushed. How could it be that easy not to want me?

The very next day he’s posting pictures of his new valentine. It was really over. But in no-good man fashion, a month later he decides to hit me up; just as I’m moving on he’s trying to get back in. They all come back. How could they not? I’m the perfect ten; curvy, soft brown skin, a big booty, a killer smile, a brain, and a whole ocean between my thighs. Me being over my hoe stage and not wanting to jump on a whole new dick, I let him come back in as my friend with benefits. I know I was stupid–naive, as I've said many times before. What can I say? I have great sex and I wasn’t ready for a new toy. But that got old, too and I eventually outgrew him and left him where I found him. Yet, for a reason I can’t explain he hits me up early in the week of my birthday asking to hang out that Thursday, August 11th–which was the day before my birthday–saying he wants to see me and celebrate with me. He says he’ll get bottles, weed, and mollies for me and we can just chill. I hadn’t seen him in months, but I agreed. Guess that’s that naive thing at work here again.

Thursday night, I get to his place and we’re just vibing, enjoying each other's company, I thought. Around 3:00 am, I'm getting tired from the drugs and swatting away his annoying mosquito-like advances when I’m hit with the ugliest ultimatum I’ve ever faced in my 26 years of living. Fuck me now or get out and I’ll call someone else over. I laugh at first, knowing it’s a joke, because what grown father of daughters says things like that? My phone's dying, I'm high as a kite, it’s 3 am, and I’m on the south side of Newark, with no way home.

It felt surreal as I cried out “It’s my birthday don’t do me like this." “I don’t care about none of that shit” was the response I got. I tried switching the subject, reverse psychology, anything to make him see the error in what he was saying to me. I tried to get him to see that I didn’t deserve that, all the while stalling to get more of a charge on my phone while he’s scrolling through and scowling at me and his phone impatiently. He then says “I knew what it was, and I’m playing games” I guess he forgot that he invited me over to celebrate my 23rd year of life; never did he mention he was the one expecting a gift.

“So wassup?” he says glaring down at me “you gonna let me fuck or you leaving?” I paused, considering both options. Yes, all this on my special day. I gave in. I was too scared to leave. I’m young, beautiful, high out my mind, and not from around here. I had no one to call so it was either go out and possibly face a worse devil I don’t know or stay here with the beast that I did and live to walk away. How he was able to get hard by someone who didn’t want him still disturbs me. Why I chose to close my eyes to the fact that I couldn’t trust him still angers me.

So yes, the early hours of my 23rd birthday I spent bent over, teary eyed, and feeling like I was being raped. The next morning I woke up feeling like everything but the birthday girl until I was home with family, with real love that I foolishly told myself he could give. I spent half that day with my sister lost in New York City and the other half at the Museum of Natural History, which I had been dying to get to. Looking back, I now see the error of my ways and how I could have died that day choosing to follow my loneliness, self-doubt, and my desperation into a hungry lion's den. There are so many damaged men that we cling to thinking we can change them, save them but we only end up inheriting their damage. This is a happy ending for me only because I made it home to my family. How many women and naive young girls didn’t? We women have to start putting ourselves on a higher pedestal even if no one else will, especially if no one else will. As for him, shortly after that he ended up getting arrested, going to jail and losing everything he had–including that apartment of my nightmares.

Karma’s a bitch.