Does love accumulate when you’re unable to share? And must you get married in order make your love right? Will a thief tell you he's a thief? Are you a victim of blind love? Are all the signs present but you fail to see them?
Still wanting to be a wife, to share all this love inside me, I said “I do” to the second man I believed loved me and my 3 children.
Though he was not the best looking man and even to me, he was one of the ugliest men I’d ever connected with; he brought joy to me, my children and “my mother”, who adored him.
When we disagreed, he ran to my mother to get his way. As time passed, I learned he was Booster, which means a thief who stole high-end products to sell to high-end people. The high-end people were professionals like educators... and there was a sizeable income generated by this market.
Every once in a while he’d go to jail and his going to jail became a part of our lifestyle. Right, then wrong, I was trying to make the best of a bad situation. Here I'm reminded of people like the Clintons, I'm a strong black woman, will my bad situation ever change.
My mother died, we became closer and we got married. Just that quick, the abuse started. He turned violent and took it all out on me. I soon learned these violent incidents we spurred by and used to cover up for his efforts to cheat and quickly became more frequent. I had it down to a science… “when he had a date he whipped my ass and left. This, in his mind, was the best strategy to keep me at home while visiting his other women”.
At this point, I was working three jobs to feed my family and ignore all this drama. Meanwhile, an argument ensued over me preparing to attend a school function with my children. In a heated fit of rage, he started slinging dishes, pots and pans, filled with our dinner meal, all over everything I’d prepared to take to school.
I ignored his violent behavior in order to meet the immediate requirements of my children. The more I ignored him, the more infuriated he became, even to the point he destroyed a jalousie window which meant so much to me, being it was from my mother.
At that point I broke down, I lost it, I had had enough, wanted to fight back. I became so irate and attacked not him, but ran outside and viciously attacked his car, with a shovel from garage.
On his prize possession auto I became a one woman demolition team. I took all my frustrations out on his car until I cut my arm. Somehow that gave me even more strength and I continued around his car breaking all the windows and anything else I saw.
Even more insane, as I was breaking up his shit, I could hear him in my mama’s house breaking up even more of our shit. Before I was finished, the steering wheel was on the seat, tires busted, I even shoveled dirt into his gas tank until my neighbor came across the street. “Let it go baby”, he said while he pried my hands off the shovel. Even my daughter was outside helping me destroy his auto. I kept breaking shit until the police arrived and escorted him out. I was so angry and in a fit of rage, I was hissing as he was escorted passed me.
My mama’s house and his auto were in such shambles, people passed by to see all the damage we had done to each other. Time to divorce my 2nd husband.
(((your inner voice.com)))