Have you ever heard of a “generational curse”? If not, it’s when you are punished for sins or wrongs that someone from your past has committed. I swear that I am a victim. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. My life is in constant turmoil. If nothing is going wrong in my life, hell, I get scared.
At the age of 37, you would think that I would have some type of order in my life, right? Well, I don’t. And please don’t judge me. I do that enough for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I am an educated women but I make stupid mistakes that seem to follow me, no matter what. My aunt used to say, “Girl, you so smart you ain’t got no common sense”. She must’ve known what she was talking bout ‘cause this life of mine is one h.a.m. (hot ass mess).
My name is Sia. My mama wanted my name to start with an “S” like my deadbeat dad’s. She was so in love with Shaun Cedric Porter. However, she couldn’t name me La Shauna or Shia because those names were taken by two of his other five illegitimate children.
This man, Shaun Porter, my sperm donor, was married to my mama but had three other baby mamas. Of the five, only one was before they were married. The other four were during the course of their marriage. Believe it or not, I had to go though therapy because of this. But I had to learn that that wasn’t my problem to deal with, it was my mama’s. She allowed him to treat her that way, so what could I do? Sometimes he would stay away from home for days and weeks at a time. It didn’t matter when he came home, she always took him back. Yeah, they would fuss and fight but he knew what to do and say to her. She was a fool for him.
She was the nicest, soft- spoken person. Everyone loved my mama. All of my friends would want to spend the night over my house because my mama would let us do whatever their parents wouldn’t let us do.
I remember the day my Uncle Charles came running in the house to tell us that Shana and Shaunte’s mama had stabbed and killed him at the pool hall. I was 10. I remember vividly, my mama in a white dress with light blue flowers in it, fall to the floor of our living room and cry like her whole world had ended. I just sat here looking at her. I didn’t understand. It was at that time that I thought, “Daddy must have diamonds on his dick. One woman stabbing him and the other crying like there was no tomorrow. That was good for his dirty ass. “
For about two years after the sperm donor died, my mom was like a zombie. She wouldn’t talk to any man. If I even mentioned her going out and meeting someone, she would say, “Girl, Shaun would roll over in that grave if he even thought I was with another man”. I would look at her like, “What? Are you serious?” But I guess love is blind.
When I was in middle school, mama met a man named Chauncey. I liked Chauncey. He treated mama real nice. Mama was even back to her old’ self, laughing, talking on the phone with her sisters and girlfriends. Then, I be damned, if Chauncey didn’t start with the same shit as my daddy. Chauncey took it to another level, though. Chauncey was attractive. I could understand women wanting him.
As many hoes as my daddy had, none of them ever disrespected mama. She knew about them from people in the street, her family, etc. but my daddy never let her see them together. That was one of his favorite alibis. “Did YOU see me with her? Okay when YOU see me with her let me know. I don’t want to hear no he say- she say bullshit.”
Chauncey, on the other hand, had his hoes pick him up right in front of the house. I have been embarrasses by that on several occasions. I would be outside with my friends and some tramp pulls up to our house and he jumps in the car, like its all good. The only good thing about it was that he would always give me $20 or $40 as he got in the car. I guess it was hush money. “Baby girl, go get you and your friends something to eat or something”, Chauncey would say and then jump in the car with another woman while my mama peeked through the blinds.
On several occasions, I’ve overheard my mama crying when Chauncey didn’t come home. It broke my heart. Chauncey eventually left. Again for a long time, my mama’s only man was the Lord. Work and church were really the only places she went.
Right before I graduated high school, my mama met and married the best man in the world, Paul. Paul was a pastor from Cleveland, Ohio. God sent him to my mama. I was more than relieved when he married her and moved her to Ohio. He treated here like a queen. He called her his “Queen” and I was his “Princess”. He had to quit her j ob and had someone hired to take care of all of her needs. Everyone loved the “First lady” in Cleveland. Mama was finally truly happy and being treated the way she deserved to be. A few years later she fell sick and shortly died. Paul truly loved her. He stayed by her side the whole time. She was waited on hand and foot until the day she died.
That was ten years ago.
I had always said that I don’t want to be like her. I wouldn’t let any man treat me the way that she allowed men to treat her. Unfortunately, it didn’t work like that. So now I’m back to the generational curse thing. I have my mama’s vulnerable, soft ways. I admit it. I allow people, not just men, treat me any kind of way and just keep smiling through it all. But here’s the kicker: I have my daddy’s whorish ways.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Juggling Acts Chapter 2
Chapter 2
It was 2:41 p.m. when I woke up. I probably only woke up then, because I was starving. I immediately looked at my phone. I had seven missed calls. Keith had obviously put my phone on silent or I was in one hell of a deep sleep, because I could hear my cell phone ring during the middle of the Macy’s parade with every band and chorus there singing. Of the seven calls, not one was from Davonte’. Damn Dog!
Lifelessly, I went through the morning procedures of brushing my teeth, taking a shower, combing my hair, etc. I was damn near famished by the time I had done all of that and I definitely wasn’t about to cook anything. I pulled on a pair of Keith’s sweat pants and a Tupac Shakur T-shirt, a Kansas City Chiefs cap, my mickey mouse socks, and my Travon’s spider man bedroom slippers with Spidey on top. I looked a mess. And that’s exactly how I felt. Burger King was my intended destination but somehow my Maxima just happened to be passing by D’s street. I started calling Davonte’, D, after he said that he has a nickname for me but I didn’t have one for him. His friends and family called him eight ball. I’m assuming because of his shiny, black, bald head.
I didn’t have to turn down his street. His apartment complex was in the middle of the street and his apartment was located at the perfect angle that you could see his door and parking space without having to actually drive down the street. Somehow my car knew that because there I was riding down his street. That bitch’s car is backed in front of his car. I parked my car to watch.
My first instinct was to block both of them in and to confront them both. Then I decided to bash the windows out of both of their cars. Now I might go to jail for him, but definitely not for her, raggedy ass. So, I decided to just sit and watch for any activity. No, I am not a stalker but I believe that I at least deserve an explanation.
I sit for what seems like three hours, but in actuality, it has only been one. My stomach had started to remind me of what I was doing out of the house anyway on a Sunday afternoon. Just as I was about to pull off. He walked out of his apartment, got into her car, and pulled off. There’s no need to guess. Hell yeah, I followed him. He pulled into the Publix parking lot and so did I. I called his phone as he walked into the store. I was sitting in my car, a good distance away from him but close enough to keep my eyes on him.
He answered. “Yeah”.
“Well. Good fucking afternoon to you too. I need to talk to you since you did all the talking earlier”.
I didn’t like the attitude he was taking. He never answered his phone that way. At least, not with me.
“What you want to talk to me for”?
“About the text you sent me this morning. I need to know what’s going on. “I was getting teary eyed. I almost choked on my tears.
“Where are you?”
“Where are you?”
“Alright, meet me at our spot in about ten minutes. I can’t stay long, though. She’s at my place and I don’t want her to get restless and start rambling through my shit. I still have remnants of you there.”
He was talking so cold hearted to me. I starting feeling sick to my stomach again. Before I could reply. He had hung up.
Instead of me leaving and going to get dressed for our meeting, I sat there. Partly because I was shaken up by the way he was treating me, the other part because of curiosity. What was he doing in Publix on a Sunday afternoon? I knew he wasn’t going to cook because Davonte’ doesn’t know how to cook. Every Sunday, since I had met him, I prepared him a Sunday dinner or made sure he had dinner, whether it was take out or I got something from Lisa or mama’s house for him.
When he came out of the grocery store he had a shopping cart filled with bags. He had diapers, gallons of juice, chips, and a newspaper. That’s what I could see from the top of the bags. I can’t imagine what was inside of the bags.
I followed him to her house. Their daughter came out of the house followed by the boys and the bigger kids each grabbed a bag. He picked up both of the smaller kids. They looked like the fucking Brady Bunch minus the mother. I felt like hitting the gas and killing all of them. God forgive me for such horrible thoughts, but that is exactly how I felt at this time. They all walked into the house. Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t emerged. I guess he had forgotten about meeting me. I began to feel light-headed so I left.
I went to McDonald’s because it was a little farther than Burger King. Yes, I was starving but I wanted him to wait for me. As far as I knew, he was still at her house being the world’s greatest dad. I ordered and sat in the parking lot and started eating. If I hadn’t eaten anything, I would not have been able to drive another step. That was the absolute best cheeseburger happy meal I had ever eaten in my life. Ronald McDonald had saved my life. As I was gorging, he called.
“Where r u?” . He sounded frustrated.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Hurry up. I told you I had to ...”
I hung up. I didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say.
He called back. I looked at the phone rang. The bastard!
He was outside of the car when I pulled up. I pulled up next to him but stayed in the car. He turned to face me.
“So, What’s up? What you want to talk to me about?
I could tell from his tone that he wanted to fight. So, if a fight was what he wanted, then....... Let’s get ready to rumble!!!!
“Damn, D... you couldn’t talk to me? You had to text me some fucked up shit like that? At three in the morning, at that, like I’m one of your lil’ tricks. That was quite grimy.”
“Cami, I have never hid how I felt about my wife and kids from you.” His voice was calmer. He almost sounded apologetic.
“And? How did this all occur? Did you go knocking at her door, begging her to take you back or what? I don’t understand, Davonte’. How did she end up in your bed Davonte’? Our bed?”
I got out of the car. My head was pounding. So was my heart. I didn’t want him to see me crying but I couldn’t help how I felt. How could this Negro stand here and act like shit was all good, like this was expected to happen? I wanted to knock his ass out. I may have been delirious but I wasn’t stupid. One of the reasons she had left him because he used to beat her ass. Now they were back together? I didn’t get it.
“I saw her at a party last night. She let me buy her a drink. We started talking about stuff other than the kids and one thing led to another. I guess she missed me just as much as I had missed her. We went back to my place and made love. She admitted she had made a mistake leaving me and I promised her that I would do whatever I had to do to make things right again and if that means......”
“Yeah, you told me. So that leaves me where?” I was screaming. I was walking up on him like I really was going to hit him and I wanted to really badly.
“ It leaves you with your husband. And me with my wife”.
If I had a knife, I would have slit his fucking throat.
“How the fuck am I supposed to feel, D? What about me and what we had invested in our relationship?”
He grabbed my hand. “I want us to be friends. You’ve done so much for me. I owe you my friendship.”
I snatched my hand from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You owe me more than just friendship and believe me, you will pay me.” I got into my car. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t drive right then. I watched him get into his car. He blew me a kiss and drove away. I turned the radio up loud. I don’t even know what was playing. I drove off.
As bad as I wanted to stop crying, I couldn’t. I was mad as hell. I knew that I had to show Davonte’ that he wasn’t playing with an amateur. He wasn’t going to dog me out and go on about his way like he had done all the others he had. He and that bitch of his were going to pay. Davonte’ and Angela Perry were on my hit list.
It was 2:41 p.m. when I woke up. I probably only woke up then, because I was starving. I immediately looked at my phone. I had seven missed calls. Keith had obviously put my phone on silent or I was in one hell of a deep sleep, because I could hear my cell phone ring during the middle of the Macy’s parade with every band and chorus there singing. Of the seven calls, not one was from Davonte’. Damn Dog!
Lifelessly, I went through the morning procedures of brushing my teeth, taking a shower, combing my hair, etc. I was damn near famished by the time I had done all of that and I definitely wasn’t about to cook anything. I pulled on a pair of Keith’s sweat pants and a Tupac Shakur T-shirt, a Kansas City Chiefs cap, my mickey mouse socks, and my Travon’s spider man bedroom slippers with Spidey on top. I looked a mess. And that’s exactly how I felt. Burger King was my intended destination but somehow my Maxima just happened to be passing by D’s street. I started calling Davonte’, D, after he said that he has a nickname for me but I didn’t have one for him. His friends and family called him eight ball. I’m assuming because of his shiny, black, bald head.
I didn’t have to turn down his street. His apartment complex was in the middle of the street and his apartment was located at the perfect angle that you could see his door and parking space without having to actually drive down the street. Somehow my car knew that because there I was riding down his street. That bitch’s car is backed in front of his car. I parked my car to watch.
My first instinct was to block both of them in and to confront them both. Then I decided to bash the windows out of both of their cars. Now I might go to jail for him, but definitely not for her, raggedy ass. So, I decided to just sit and watch for any activity. No, I am not a stalker but I believe that I at least deserve an explanation.
I sit for what seems like three hours, but in actuality, it has only been one. My stomach had started to remind me of what I was doing out of the house anyway on a Sunday afternoon. Just as I was about to pull off. He walked out of his apartment, got into her car, and pulled off. There’s no need to guess. Hell yeah, I followed him. He pulled into the Publix parking lot and so did I. I called his phone as he walked into the store. I was sitting in my car, a good distance away from him but close enough to keep my eyes on him.
He answered. “Yeah”.
“Well. Good fucking afternoon to you too. I need to talk to you since you did all the talking earlier”.
I didn’t like the attitude he was taking. He never answered his phone that way. At least, not with me.
“What you want to talk to me for”?
“About the text you sent me this morning. I need to know what’s going on. “I was getting teary eyed. I almost choked on my tears.
“Where are you?”
“Where are you?”
“Alright, meet me at our spot in about ten minutes. I can’t stay long, though. She’s at my place and I don’t want her to get restless and start rambling through my shit. I still have remnants of you there.”
He was talking so cold hearted to me. I starting feeling sick to my stomach again. Before I could reply. He had hung up.
Instead of me leaving and going to get dressed for our meeting, I sat there. Partly because I was shaken up by the way he was treating me, the other part because of curiosity. What was he doing in Publix on a Sunday afternoon? I knew he wasn’t going to cook because Davonte’ doesn’t know how to cook. Every Sunday, since I had met him, I prepared him a Sunday dinner or made sure he had dinner, whether it was take out or I got something from Lisa or mama’s house for him.
When he came out of the grocery store he had a shopping cart filled with bags. He had diapers, gallons of juice, chips, and a newspaper. That’s what I could see from the top of the bags. I can’t imagine what was inside of the bags.
I followed him to her house. Their daughter came out of the house followed by the boys and the bigger kids each grabbed a bag. He picked up both of the smaller kids. They looked like the fucking Brady Bunch minus the mother. I felt like hitting the gas and killing all of them. God forgive me for such horrible thoughts, but that is exactly how I felt at this time. They all walked into the house. Fifteen minutes later, he still hadn’t emerged. I guess he had forgotten about meeting me. I began to feel light-headed so I left.
I went to McDonald’s because it was a little farther than Burger King. Yes, I was starving but I wanted him to wait for me. As far as I knew, he was still at her house being the world’s greatest dad. I ordered and sat in the parking lot and started eating. If I hadn’t eaten anything, I would not have been able to drive another step. That was the absolute best cheeseburger happy meal I had ever eaten in my life. Ronald McDonald had saved my life. As I was gorging, he called.
“Where r u?” . He sounded frustrated.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Hurry up. I told you I had to ...”
I hung up. I didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say.
He called back. I looked at the phone rang. The bastard!
He was outside of the car when I pulled up. I pulled up next to him but stayed in the car. He turned to face me.
“So, What’s up? What you want to talk to me about?
I could tell from his tone that he wanted to fight. So, if a fight was what he wanted, then....... Let’s get ready to rumble!!!!
“Damn, D... you couldn’t talk to me? You had to text me some fucked up shit like that? At three in the morning, at that, like I’m one of your lil’ tricks. That was quite grimy.”
“Cami, I have never hid how I felt about my wife and kids from you.” His voice was calmer. He almost sounded apologetic.
“And? How did this all occur? Did you go knocking at her door, begging her to take you back or what? I don’t understand, Davonte’. How did she end up in your bed Davonte’? Our bed?”
I got out of the car. My head was pounding. So was my heart. I didn’t want him to see me crying but I couldn’t help how I felt. How could this Negro stand here and act like shit was all good, like this was expected to happen? I wanted to knock his ass out. I may have been delirious but I wasn’t stupid. One of the reasons she had left him because he used to beat her ass. Now they were back together? I didn’t get it.
“I saw her at a party last night. She let me buy her a drink. We started talking about stuff other than the kids and one thing led to another. I guess she missed me just as much as I had missed her. We went back to my place and made love. She admitted she had made a mistake leaving me and I promised her that I would do whatever I had to do to make things right again and if that means......”
“Yeah, you told me. So that leaves me where?” I was screaming. I was walking up on him like I really was going to hit him and I wanted to really badly.
“ It leaves you with your husband. And me with my wife”.
If I had a knife, I would have slit his fucking throat.
“How the fuck am I supposed to feel, D? What about me and what we had invested in our relationship?”
He grabbed my hand. “I want us to be friends. You’ve done so much for me. I owe you my friendship.”
I snatched my hand from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You owe me more than just friendship and believe me, you will pay me.” I got into my car. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t drive right then. I watched him get into his car. He blew me a kiss and drove away. I turned the radio up loud. I don’t even know what was playing. I drove off.
As bad as I wanted to stop crying, I couldn’t. I was mad as hell. I knew that I had to show Davonte’ that he wasn’t playing with an amateur. He wasn’t going to dog me out and go on about his way like he had done all the others he had. He and that bitch of his were going to pay. Davonte’ and Angela Perry were on my hit list.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Untitled
Thanksgiving. One of my favorite holidays. Just thinking about my mama's turkey, macaroni and cheese, and sweet potato pie has me homesick. I haven't seen my family since January of this year. Yeah, we talk on the phone but it's not like being there. This will be my first Thanksgiving away from home.
I moved to Atlanta in January. My dream of becoming a dancer was my main reason for the move, but since Michael believes it was for him, that's what I let him think. Eventually, I would have moved here to be with him but not as soon as I had. All of my years of professional training had not paid off in the sense that I had planned it to. My major in college was Dance Theatre. I have been doing ballet, tap, jazz, and modern dance since I could walk. My life's ambition was to dance on Broadway. Yet for the last three years, New York had done nothing but cause me heartache and pain. It seemed as if every audition I would go on, I would make it all the way to the last audition just to get turned away. I even tried out for the reality show for dancers and was turned away. That was the final straw for me.
I knew that I could dance better than most of those people that had made it to Las Vegas for the finals for that show! However, I wasn't picked and with that I packed my bags and moved to Atlanta. Michael is ready for me to settle down. He wants us to get married and me to start having kids but dancing is my dream. On my flight I met a guy who changed my mind about giving up on my dream. He was seated next to me on the small aircraft. He was looked like one of those rapper guys with gold teeth, big gold chains, his jeans off of his butt, and a white t-shirt underneath his fur coat. He smelled good as hell. For most of the ride I listened to my i pod as he checked me out. You know how you can feel someone looking you up and down. I refused to look his way . Just before the flight landed, he handed me a card.
"Yo shawty", he said. "If you ever in the ATL look me up".
"Excuse me??" I was taken aback by his forwardness.
"I'm a video producer and you got the body to be in a video".
"What do I look like to you? Some kind of hoe?" I was fuming. How dare he ask me to be in a video.
"No, boo, you got it all wrong. I'm a music producer and I wanted to give you an opportunity to be in a music video , not a porn video. I don't get down like that".
The guy introduced himself as Jarvis Tinsel of "Get It Down Records".
I had heard of a couple of their artists.
"I'm sorry. I'm Jennel Allen." We shook hands and talked for the remainder of the flight.
Jarvis was a nice guy and seemed interested in me for an upcoming video. Once I told him of my dance experience, he became even more interested in me. I gave him my card and we promised to keep in touch.
That was 11 months ago. I haven't heard from Jarvis since then but I have been keeping up with his new projects. The first weekend in December he is actually having auditions for a video shot. I know that from a professional dancer, who had performed some of the greatest ballets to a video hoochie, is a far cry, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
Michael's mom thinks I'm a whore anyway. I'm sure she wouldn't be shocked if she saw me on a video. She thinks I only want Michael for his money. Michael is an architectural engineer with a major firm based in Houston, Texas. Michael works half of the year in Houston and half of the year in Atlanta. He owns homes in both places. He has a staff that tends to the Houston place when he's in Atlanta and vice versa. Being unstable, as Michael's mom calls me, I would not be the right type of wife for Michael or mother of her grandkids. Hell, I think if she had it her way, Michael would never get married.
My parents on the other hand would die from embarrassment. Dr. Arnold and Jacqueline Allen would be the social outcast of the whole Detroit Metropolitan area if someone saw me on BET in a video. I would be removed from the will and exiled even more so from the family than I already am. The only person that I keep in contact with is my sister, Kayla. We talk at least once a week on the phone and w e text alot, but anyone else, I only hear from when they need or want something. I call my parents once a week just to let them know that I am living but they could probably care less. They are busy living their own lives'.
As I dress for dinner at Michael's mama's house, I can't decide what to wear. Should I dress casual, with jeans and a nice blouse or more dressy, with a black and white skirt set? I should I wear something provocative to piss her off? I play it safe and wear a long pumpkin orange long skirt set with a brown turtle neck under neath and brown boots. I feel like I'm about to go out horse riding.
I moved to Atlanta in January. My dream of becoming a dancer was my main reason for the move, but since Michael believes it was for him, that's what I let him think. Eventually, I would have moved here to be with him but not as soon as I had. All of my years of professional training had not paid off in the sense that I had planned it to. My major in college was Dance Theatre. I have been doing ballet, tap, jazz, and modern dance since I could walk. My life's ambition was to dance on Broadway. Yet for the last three years, New York had done nothing but cause me heartache and pain. It seemed as if every audition I would go on, I would make it all the way to the last audition just to get turned away. I even tried out for the reality show for dancers and was turned away. That was the final straw for me.
I knew that I could dance better than most of those people that had made it to Las Vegas for the finals for that show! However, I wasn't picked and with that I packed my bags and moved to Atlanta. Michael is ready for me to settle down. He wants us to get married and me to start having kids but dancing is my dream. On my flight I met a guy who changed my mind about giving up on my dream. He was seated next to me on the small aircraft. He was looked like one of those rapper guys with gold teeth, big gold chains, his jeans off of his butt, and a white t-shirt underneath his fur coat. He smelled good as hell. For most of the ride I listened to my i pod as he checked me out. You know how you can feel someone looking you up and down. I refused to look his way . Just before the flight landed, he handed me a card.
"Yo shawty", he said. "If you ever in the ATL look me up".
"Excuse me??" I was taken aback by his forwardness.
"I'm a video producer and you got the body to be in a video".
"What do I look like to you? Some kind of hoe?" I was fuming. How dare he ask me to be in a video.
"No, boo, you got it all wrong. I'm a music producer and I wanted to give you an opportunity to be in a music video , not a porn video. I don't get down like that".
The guy introduced himself as Jarvis Tinsel of "Get It Down Records".
I had heard of a couple of their artists.
"I'm sorry. I'm Jennel Allen." We shook hands and talked for the remainder of the flight.
Jarvis was a nice guy and seemed interested in me for an upcoming video. Once I told him of my dance experience, he became even more interested in me. I gave him my card and we promised to keep in touch.
That was 11 months ago. I haven't heard from Jarvis since then but I have been keeping up with his new projects. The first weekend in December he is actually having auditions for a video shot. I know that from a professional dancer, who had performed some of the greatest ballets to a video hoochie, is a far cry, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.
Michael's mom thinks I'm a whore anyway. I'm sure she wouldn't be shocked if she saw me on a video. She thinks I only want Michael for his money. Michael is an architectural engineer with a major firm based in Houston, Texas. Michael works half of the year in Houston and half of the year in Atlanta. He owns homes in both places. He has a staff that tends to the Houston place when he's in Atlanta and vice versa. Being unstable, as Michael's mom calls me, I would not be the right type of wife for Michael or mother of her grandkids. Hell, I think if she had it her way, Michael would never get married.
My parents on the other hand would die from embarrassment. Dr. Arnold and Jacqueline Allen would be the social outcast of the whole Detroit Metropolitan area if someone saw me on BET in a video. I would be removed from the will and exiled even more so from the family than I already am. The only person that I keep in contact with is my sister, Kayla. We talk at least once a week on the phone and w e text alot, but anyone else, I only hear from when they need or want something. I call my parents once a week just to let them know that I am living but they could probably care less. They are busy living their own lives'.
As I dress for dinner at Michael's mama's house, I can't decide what to wear. Should I dress casual, with jeans and a nice blouse or more dressy, with a black and white skirt set? I should I wear something provocative to piss her off? I play it safe and wear a long pumpkin orange long skirt set with a brown turtle neck under neath and brown boots. I feel like I'm about to go out horse riding.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Juggling Acts Chapter 1
I was awakened by the vibration of my cell phone under my pillow. I sleep with it there so I can feel it in case Treva calls when she’s out. I instantly look at the clock. It’s 3:30 a.m. I definitely know that it’s not Treva. Who the hell is texting me at 3:30? I thought to myself. I looked over my shoulder to see if I had awakened Keith with my stirring. He was still asleep. I read the text message marked urgent.
“This is the last time we will communicate with each other. From this point on, 4get about me, about us, & whatever future we had once planned for. Me & Angela are back 2gether. I will always b ur friend. I at least owe u that 4 all that u have done 4 me.
Luv,
Davonte’
I blinked my eyes. I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I got up, with my phone in hand, and went into the bathroom. I washed my face and sat on the toilet.
“What’s wrong?’, Keith yelled from the bed.
“This cold is getting to me. I can’t breathe ‘cause I’m all stuffy”, I yell back to him. “Can you run to the Walgreens and get me some Nyquil or something?”
“ Alright, bay. Let me get in there to wash my face.”
I got back into the bed so that Keith could prepare to go to Walgreens and so I could collect my thoughts of how I would respond to this son of a bitch that text me this foolishness.
“All you need is Nyquil, right? You want me to get some orange juice and soup, too,?”
“Yeah, that will be a good idea. Thanks, sweetie”.
And then he was gone. Good,
I turned on the lights and reread the text for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth time. I had to make sure I had read it correctly. I had.
“This is the last time we will communicate.” Blah!Blah! Blah!
“Me & Angela r back 2gether”. Blah!Blah!Blah!
”U will always b my friend.”Blah!Blah!Blah!
The part that had my head messed up was the “Me & Angela r back 2gether” part. “What the fuck?”, I damn near screamed. I had received this text about 15 minutes ago. He would still be up, probably waiting for my reply. I called him instead of texting him.
The phone didn’t even ring once completely. Before I even said anything he started. “.I see you got my text but obviously you didn’t understand it. I can’t talk now. She’s back. That’s all you need to know. I’m gonna do whatever, whatever, I have to do this time to make it work, even if that means losing you, Cami.”
He hung up. He hadn’t given me time to say anything. I called back. His machine was picking up on the first ring. That meant that his phone was off. That would be the signal to let me know that he was home with the family, when we first started seeing each other. I was shaking. I started crying, sobbing hysterically. I was acting like someone who had just told me that something tragic had happened to a family member. And that is what I felt like. Davonte’ wasn’t a family member but he was a loved one. He was the one I loved for two years. My soul mate, the man of my dreams, had broken my heart. He had just told me that he was getting back together with his wife. At 3:30 in the morning. By a text message.
Just thinking about how the whole thing went down was making me more distraught. Why was he doing this? What had I done wrong?
Things were just turning for the better for me and him since the initial breakup between he and Angela. Everything was going just fine. We were supposed to be together in a few more months. We had decided to tell the kids about us and that we would start
our life together as soon as the divorce was final between them Oh, how I hate her. For the first two months, Davonte’ went through a deep depression when she left him. He lost his job, his car, and eventually the house. It was me, Cami that stuck besides him. I helped him find an affordable apartment and helped with the move in fee. I helped him find a decent car so that he could get around and have a way to see his children, and it was me, again, that browsed the internet looking for jobs for him, asking people I know about work for him until he landed his job at the air port. Me! Not Angela! I even listened to him profess his love for her. Me! The one that he was also supposed to love. Now he text messages me- text message. Can you believe this shit? I’m, now, not even worth a phone call, to tell me that he is getting back with that tramp. The same tramp bitch that left him high and dry, with all the money from the bank accounts, and took the kids, up out of the blue, for no apparent reason,( at least not to her). Oh, Hell No! This was not about to go down like this. If I hurt, someone else will definitely hurt with me!!!!!!
I had to pull myself together before Keith got back but these thoughts of how Davonte’ was trying me kept swimming in my head. I splashed water on my face and snuggled back in the bed, pretending to be sleep. I all of a sudden had an urge to vomit. That was when I was doing when Keith walked in.
“Oh, baby, you are really sick. You want to go to the hospital?”
I shock my head no.
“Get in the bed. When Travon gets up, I will take him with me. Treva is at Lisa’s house. You need to stay in this bed and get some rest. “Keith commanded. “If you need me, call me. Now take this medicine.”
I followed my orders. I took three capfuls of Nyquil. He took his pillows and slept on the couch. I fell asleep.
“This is the last time we will communicate with each other. From this point on, 4get about me, about us, & whatever future we had once planned for. Me & Angela are back 2gether. I will always b ur friend. I at least owe u that 4 all that u have done 4 me.
Luv,
Davonte’
I blinked my eyes. I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I got up, with my phone in hand, and went into the bathroom. I washed my face and sat on the toilet.
“What’s wrong?’, Keith yelled from the bed.
“This cold is getting to me. I can’t breathe ‘cause I’m all stuffy”, I yell back to him. “Can you run to the Walgreens and get me some Nyquil or something?”
“ Alright, bay. Let me get in there to wash my face.”
I got back into the bed so that Keith could prepare to go to Walgreens and so I could collect my thoughts of how I would respond to this son of a bitch that text me this foolishness.
“All you need is Nyquil, right? You want me to get some orange juice and soup, too,?”
“Yeah, that will be a good idea. Thanks, sweetie”.
And then he was gone. Good,
I turned on the lights and reread the text for the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth time. I had to make sure I had read it correctly. I had.
“This is the last time we will communicate.” Blah!Blah! Blah!
“Me & Angela r back 2gether”. Blah!Blah!Blah!
”U will always b my friend.”Blah!Blah!Blah!
The part that had my head messed up was the “Me & Angela r back 2gether” part. “What the fuck?”, I damn near screamed. I had received this text about 15 minutes ago. He would still be up, probably waiting for my reply. I called him instead of texting him.
The phone didn’t even ring once completely. Before I even said anything he started. “.I see you got my text but obviously you didn’t understand it. I can’t talk now. She’s back. That’s all you need to know. I’m gonna do whatever, whatever, I have to do this time to make it work, even if that means losing you, Cami.”
He hung up. He hadn’t given me time to say anything. I called back. His machine was picking up on the first ring. That meant that his phone was off. That would be the signal to let me know that he was home with the family, when we first started seeing each other. I was shaking. I started crying, sobbing hysterically. I was acting like someone who had just told me that something tragic had happened to a family member. And that is what I felt like. Davonte’ wasn’t a family member but he was a loved one. He was the one I loved for two years. My soul mate, the man of my dreams, had broken my heart. He had just told me that he was getting back together with his wife. At 3:30 in the morning. By a text message.
Just thinking about how the whole thing went down was making me more distraught. Why was he doing this? What had I done wrong?
Things were just turning for the better for me and him since the initial breakup between he and Angela. Everything was going just fine. We were supposed to be together in a few more months. We had decided to tell the kids about us and that we would start
our life together as soon as the divorce was final between them Oh, how I hate her. For the first two months, Davonte’ went through a deep depression when she left him. He lost his job, his car, and eventually the house. It was me, Cami that stuck besides him. I helped him find an affordable apartment and helped with the move in fee. I helped him find a decent car so that he could get around and have a way to see his children, and it was me, again, that browsed the internet looking for jobs for him, asking people I know about work for him until he landed his job at the air port. Me! Not Angela! I even listened to him profess his love for her. Me! The one that he was also supposed to love. Now he text messages me- text message. Can you believe this shit? I’m, now, not even worth a phone call, to tell me that he is getting back with that tramp. The same tramp bitch that left him high and dry, with all the money from the bank accounts, and took the kids, up out of the blue, for no apparent reason,( at least not to her). Oh, Hell No! This was not about to go down like this. If I hurt, someone else will definitely hurt with me!!!!!!
I had to pull myself together before Keith got back but these thoughts of how Davonte’ was trying me kept swimming in my head. I splashed water on my face and snuggled back in the bed, pretending to be sleep. I all of a sudden had an urge to vomit. That was when I was doing when Keith walked in.
“Oh, baby, you are really sick. You want to go to the hospital?”
I shock my head no.
“Get in the bed. When Travon gets up, I will take him with me. Treva is at Lisa’s house. You need to stay in this bed and get some rest. “Keith commanded. “If you need me, call me. Now take this medicine.”
I followed my orders. I took three capfuls of Nyquil. He took his pillows and slept on the couch. I fell asleep.
Friday, November 14, 2008
The Worst Mother Ever!
I turned over and looked at the clock. 3:38 a.m. Damn! I have to be up in two more hours. I turn over and my knee brushes against Kyler. I can't believe that this is my life! I am in a house with a man that treats me like a queen. He stirs as I reposition myself . I rub my stomach. Three months ago I would have never believed that me, Surreal Destiny McKenzie, would be carrying another life. What a blessing!!! At least that was what I thought.
My 20 year old daughter, Tiffany, went off on me when I told her.
"How could you let this happen? You are too old to be having a freakin' baby"! Tiffany was yelling through the phone.
I had to wait a few minutes before speaking because I was choked up with tears. After all, Tiffany and I were really close. We were like best friends. Of all the people in the world, I knew that she would be happy for me.
"It just happened. I'm still young." I replied trying to convince myself just as much as her.
"It's bad enough that you are married to someone that is so much younger than you, but you go and get pregnant too"! She sighed and took a deep breath.
"You are the worst mother ever"! Tiffany screamed at me before hanging up in my ear.
My 20 year old daughter, Tiffany, went off on me when I told her.
"How could you let this happen? You are too old to be having a freakin' baby"! Tiffany was yelling through the phone.
I had to wait a few minutes before speaking because I was choked up with tears. After all, Tiffany and I were really close. We were like best friends. Of all the people in the world, I knew that she would be happy for me.
"It just happened. I'm still young." I replied trying to convince myself just as much as her.
"It's bad enough that you are married to someone that is so much younger than you, but you go and get pregnant too"! She sighed and took a deep breath.
"You are the worst mother ever"! Tiffany screamed at me before hanging up in my ear.
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