Chapter 3: Volume 2

The next guy wasn't much better. He was more my age. Actually, he was older, but he didn't have a job, he didn't have his own car, and he lived with his mom. However, if it meant going out on a date to a nice restaurant with a man who seemed to think the world of me, he was it. He wined and dinned me at the finest places that his unemployment check could afford.

We couldn't have a decent conversation though. I found that we argued about everything. He wasn't my type, but he wanted me. He seemed to be fascinated with the idea of being with me. Sometimes, I think I may have controlled him a little. I began to become something I had never been....controlling and manipulative. I wanted my power back. I had been going through that feeling my entire life.

I lived my life in tug-of-war before I met you. I was that six-year-old girl who saw the best in everyone and that teenager who wanted to murder...the same one who would pick-pocket someone and swear she didn't know what happened. Yet, there was that woman inside of me who wanted to submit to a man...to give myself to him and trust that he wouldn't harm me. My heart was ripe and vulnerable and I intended to protected, but in the midst of my dysfunctional existence, I had never learned how to do that. I thought I was learning how when I was with you. I always figured that, if a good man ever stuck with me and cultivated me, eventually I would find my way and be the woman I wanted to become...the mommy that my children so desperately needed me to be.

I stayed in the thing...it wasn't a relationship. He proclaimed that he wasn't stable enough to be in one of those, so I just held on to him. Don't get me wrong, I don't think and never thought he was a bad man, he just wasn't the man for me and I realize that now.

After a while, I made the foolish mistake of giving myself to him. It wasn't good. He was a selfish lover who had a dark secret that would change the course of my philandering and cause me to think about my body in a new reverential way.

One day I was falling apart over you and he called me. I needed to feel pretty, wanted and appreciated, so I welcomed his invitation. I went out to a club and had quite a bit to drink...I had started doing that to numb myself of the pain and the barrage of thoughts that overcame my brain,

He left you because you're just not good enough. 
You were never good enough. 
You are stained and everybody knows it. 
You can never remove that stain...

These were the thoughts that accompanied that ever present mantra in my head; the one I had heard more than my euphonious name...

"You ain't nothin;
You ain't gon never be nothin'!"

They were the words that I never wanted to believe, but seemed to be proven every time my husband beat me, every time a man left me, every time a friend walked away from me, every time I was raped and a man spewed semen all over me, every time I was urinated on or made to commit some heinous sexual act that left my little body mangled and bruised...nearly barren. The words that revoked everything I had ever done right, everything I knew I was or had become or overcome...those words had undone years of therapy and reminded me of moments when I was confined, physically tied up, gagged, held against my will at gunpoint...they became the medicine that blinded my eyes, clouded my judgement and caused me to drown:

"You ain't nothin';
You ain't never gon be nothin'!"

You left me because they were right...no good man would ever want me and I didn't want me. So I drank. A cosmo here and a scooby-doo there, a rum and coke, a martini, an appletini...drink, drink, drink...drunk...numb and crying inside...muffling screams one drink after another.

He asked me to meet him at yet another spot and I obliged because I knew that, if anyone would find me drop-dead gorgeous, it would be him.

He fed me more poison to watch my head spin as I became my own violent muse...howling in pain. It was time for him to get me to bed...literally.

I had a friend drive us somewhere so I could further deaden the sting of lost love and rejection. I just kept on dying inside with every drink as I spun like a top...hypnotized...

We went into the room. It was cold and dreary not because of the temperature but because I knew it wasn't where I belonged. I knew I had taken a deep plummet into nothingness...an abyss of sickness...He mounted me and had his way. His smell was sickening...I think only because it wasn't your smell. Maybe I would have enjoyed it if you weren't on my mind...had I not been thinking of the fact that we actually talked. You talked to me, and it didn't feel like it was just a sexual thing...not to me.

His sweat dripped on me as he panted and moaned. I caught myself midstream in the midst of a heavy heave; the vomit burned my throat raw...he never even knew.


I don't remember how long it too...several positions and smells...I could smell him...like I could smell them. I pretended to enjoy it like I did when I was bound, so they wouldn't think I was afraid. I was always afraid.

Once he had his moment and got off of me, I was relieved. It was over. He reached out to me and I relented as I realized where I was and what I had done; this was only the beginning of my revelation. The next morning, my friend and her sweetheart were in the room with us when her friend asked me:

"So, how long have you guys been dating?"

I replied with an embarrassing snap,

"Oh, we're NOT dating...Oh noooo!"

I didn't even look at him to see if he was embarrassed because I had decided I would care less and I meant it. Besides, I knew he didn't care because he had already decided he only wanted sex from me anyway and I was just fine with that.

Then it happened...

I was looking at some silly pictures he and I had took the previous night as I was listlessly stumbling in the club. I thought they were comical as I peered at photo after photo of my pretty face, eyes barely open dawning a half-baked smile. Then. I stumbled upon something that disturbed me. I nearly cried...had a huge lump in my throat and felt somewhere between floored and stupefied...It was a folder:

Phuckin' Friendz

And I was in it...photo after photo he had captured of me while we were in the middle of sex...degrading photos of me...embarrassing photos. I maintained a stoic demeanor and began deleting feverishly...I stumbled upon a video and then another...Oh my Lord! How did I not know he was doing this? I kept my poker face and continued deleting until I ran out of footage of me. I released a sigh of relief until I saw something that caused my heart to stop momentarily...it was another shocker...I wasn't the only one.

There were dozens of women in the album and I was the only one he had a condom on with.

The only one.

My heart froze with fear and I fought back tears.

I could barely think or swallow. I immediately became ashen...that's when it dawned on me that you were gone and that putting myself at risk for a sexual transmitted disease wouldn't bring you back.

What we had was dead and not worth dying for. I had to bury it. I didn't know how I would, but I knew I had to have the funeral immediately because my children deserved more that a fragment of a mother.

I had to realize, for what value I had placed it you, you hadn't placed enough in me to stay with me so I needed to let go of the pain of losing you, stop torturing myself and realize that...I am still here.

Chapter 3: Volume 1

I had no idea how I would do it.
I had never met anyone like you before.
No man had ever paid such close attention to my wants and needs...my
favorite color, my biggest fears...you listened to my gruesome stories of a
broken past and shattered dreams and I eagerly awaited, with bated breath,
your replies and promises of security.

No man had ever made such bold statements:
"I just want to be your protector!"

Men didn't say the sorts of things you did, so naturally I believed you meant them.
I never would have thought you would walk away for me;
sometimes I still can't believe you left me.

So, my search continued.

I met quite a few guys some very attractive and some not-so-attractive.
The guys that were most interesting were the ones that either wanted to make me think they had things they didn't own, or those who felt the need to over-emphasize what they had as though their things would mean something to me.

Like the one who worked for the dealership who picked me up in one of the dealership's vehicles.

I thought:


I must be pretty special if he doesn't mind losing his
job taking me around in a vehicle that doesn't belong to him.


It was a sports car and he drove it like a bat out of hell...I wasn't impressed...I was prayin'!

Then, there was the guy with the Charger with a hemi engine...the car was yeah-I-got-plenty-money red. He was much younger than me and at times he talked about himself as well as his wealth in third person. He had to take to me his brand new condo. I know I shouldn't have gone, but I did. He seemed pretty harmless and he kept telling me how mature he was. He swore he wanted to be with me because of my story and the fact that I had such high moral values; what he didn't realize was that my moral judgment had eroded. I wasn't as innocent as he thought. I had a darkness lurking within me and it stemmed from my vehement desire to prove myself worthy of a man...a glance...a word of perfection...a compliment...ANYTHING! You had left me so empty that I was a fragment of who I had become...The champion God had fashioned me into was a past blurb and all that was left was a longing to feel wanted and loved by someone.

I was a chasm of weakness looking for the next accolade and my only clear thought was that I would NOT allow it to come from a man that I did not find deserving. I finally had a standard, but it was a broken one. The one thing I knew was that I wasn't about to be in love with another man who couldn't appreciate my intellect as well as my struggle.

Once I went into his condo and took a photo with him (something he insisted upon), I realized I was just one of many women he would see that night. He claimed he needed to call it a night. I had seen enough, so I agreed. I knew he wouldn't get what he wanted from me...an older woman to bed down with...and older woman to conquer for the night.

After he walked me to my vehicle and we said goodnight (no kiss...you were still in my lips), he got in his car. "Goodnight tired-young-guy" I said under my breath. I wasn't hurt that he had lied. I was relieved. I didn't have to keep up the facade that I was enjoying his company. He was too self-absorbed and that bored me. As he drove off with his loud hemi-engine humming, I got into my vehicle with one thought on my brain:


This is why I just can't date anybody.
This is just a waste of my time.

Chapter 2: Volume 3

So, I began my search and it was a difficult one.
No one else had ever made me feel the way you did
and it was killing me to look for it. I didn't trust myself...went back to my ex.

Yep, I know what you're thinking:

"Whaaaat?!"

"You mean after all he did for to you? After all he took
from you?"

Yes, although it may sound both crazy and stupid, I did it.

I thought I would be able to love him, and, initially, he was so excited that I was no longer with you that he took me back without hesitation...I looked so good to him. But, whenever he touched me, he wasn't you, so it was never as good as you.

I tried to fake it, but she was disappointed
in me, my choice, that she wouldn't budge.
No vibrations, no trembling, no screaming...
silence...not even a whimper.

He was both furious and embarrassed. He shook my body
wildly saying with a grunt, "Do it! Give it to me!...Come onnnn!"

I tried, but she remained recalcitrant. She, who had been slick, juicy, slimy and succulent, had become as dry as the inside of a wall.
My baby, who had been as hot as cinders burning with the desire of unrelenting love for you, turned cold and unaffected.

She lay they still...motionless...no vibrations...the waves were gone and all that was left were the tears from me missing you. He didn't know where to touch me and he never listened to what I said. He had no respect for me and my body lost respect for me too and refused to cooperate.


When he kissed me, his breath wasn't like yours. He wouldn't kiss me repeatedly. I couldn't fall into him. I tended to give him my cheek.His words were never as funny or unctuous.

I wasn't safe. She didn't feel safe.

I realized that love was the thing I needed in order for her to work. A man had to take his time taking me to bed before she would get involved. Her power was not limited to the concoction of fluid spewing out between my legs...it was my heart and its connection to my brain.

You were in my soul...I was tied to you!

I missed you and I pinned for you. My heart was sinking.
I just wanted to smell you. He didn't smell like you. He
wreaked of deception and self-hatred. I needed the aroma of your
confidence. I desired the euphonious tone of your laughter...it was so
sincere...I thought I made you happy. When he laughed, I always
felt as though he was laughing at me...his snide remarks...he often
sneered at me.

I missed the sounds that erupted from my insides when the passion came
teeming up...that screech in my voice...that billowing out...the emptying of my lungs and the tears you never saw. The weeping I sucked in because I knew I was surrendering too much to yet another man who wouldn't keep me. My loud cries that kept the property manager awake at night were gone. No one knew. There was nothing but breath. And the tears I shed were the tears of a woman who felt stuck in reverse...going back wards...turned around.

I felt unsafe, and, once I realized my mistake, I knew I couldn't be with him any longer.
If I couldn't be with you, I decided, I would never settle for less than you...


What a bold declaration! I had no idea what I was setting myself up for...