 |
| Get into it |
We prayed, ate and traveled -all over the island, doing
rituals that cleansed and were promised to guarantee my success in all things
upon my return to NYC; a return that happened much sooner than even I expected.
Three days after my in-depth conversation with Javier, I found myself
warily eyeing a plane that was even smaller and more rickety than the one I
flew from Miami to Cuba on, from under the airport shelter, which also housed a
well-stocked bar. I had to get home, so I decided to put the 40 dollars
, my grandmother insisted on pressing into my hands,this morning, to use.
I
had ordered a Long Island Ice Tea, and enough mini bottles to make four of the
pineapple with coconuts, that got me to Cuba three days prior, on the plane.
I had heard about this from this online travel group I was a part of; one of the main posts involved bringing ones own liqueur on the plane-as what they served was limited and pricey. Considering the intensity of the past few days, and my worry about the plane, I figured today was as good a day as any to try something new.
'It is what it is', I thought, as the man slowly slid the bottles over the counter toward me, and sighed as I swiped them into a plastic bag. "What," I asked him aggressively, in a tone that told him to mind his business and process the payment. He sighed and turned to give me a receipt to sign. I eat without tipping, I don't have any love for judgmental bartenders, so now he has a reason for his renegade sighing.
what needs to happen is a removal of tipping and an implementation of a living wage, for everyone,so...yeah, he could go somewhere with that sigh, I smirked to myself, thinking about how he wouldn't get any tip, other than his paycheck if it was up to me.All of that judgement and huffing and puffing. Please...
'It is what it is', I thought, as the man slowly slid the bottles over the counter toward me, and sighed as I swiped them into a plastic bag. "What," I asked him aggressively, in a tone that told him to mind his business and process the payment. He sighed and turned to give me a receipt to sign. I eat without tipping, I don't have any love for judgmental bartenders, so now he has a reason for his renegade sighing.
what needs to happen is a removal of tipping and an implementation of a living wage, for everyone,so...yeah, he could go somewhere with that sigh, I smirked to myself, thinking about how he wouldn't get any tip, other than his paycheck if it was up to me.All of that judgement and huffing and puffing. Please...
From
my window seat on the plane, I figured my early departure had everything to do
with my grandmother sensing my intent to meet up with Javier for a 'catch up'
before leaving. "There will be no cousin conquests on my
watch," she had said slyly, after waking me up at the crack of dawn, presenting me with my
luggage - cleaned, folded and packed - as well as a new ticket and proof that
my old ticket had been refunded to my credit card the night prior.
Immediately after, she quickly shuffled me into a cab, using one of the
1950’s fleet vehicles that Cuba is known for. "You can't be late,
the charter flight will take you directly to NYC-JFK, so no layover in Miami."
"But what about Javier, he won't
be pleased that I left without saying goodbye…it’s been so long since we've
seen each other and I don't want to just leave without saying something."
"I am sure he will understand that
you had to get back to your life - your real life. If he doesn’t,
I will be sure to imbue how hard it was for you to leave without a few words."
Closing
the trunk, after securing my luggage inside, "He'll be just fine.
He'll be here later, and I assure you we'll be having a long talk about
why it's imperative that my grandchildren follow my lead."
She
quickly opened the cab door, and leaned into the car, searching my features
before hitting me with the question she had been dying to ask the entire time:
"What
were you thinking? After all of the prayers and cleansing rituals?
You came all the way here for all of that, and you would ruin it for a
frowned upon tryst with your cousin. You would allow this man to convince
you to go there? she looked at me, waiting for what seemed like forever, for an answer,: "I understand something happened, something that should
never have happened…happened years ago, but it was wrong then and it would be
even more wrong now!'
Pulling herself back from me, while pacing back and forth immediately in front of the cab, she cried, "ay dio mio, You are both grown, educated people. Cousins for God’s sake! And you…YOU...I expect better from you - all those years at that fancy college and no one taught you not to fuck your cousin?" She stared at me intensely enough to bore holes anywhere she focused, " Don't let Javier in your head, your heart or your pants…especially your pants. I don’t know about him…he might fly to NYC to see you, but you know better…I know you know better," she said, closing the cab door. She then grabbed my hand through the window...peering deeply into my eyes, like she was examining my soul…she whispered, in a voice only I could hear:
"And don’t go back to what broke you before. Don't spend another second trying to prove 'what's what' to that joke of a man, who happens to be African. Don't give either of your abusers another chance to prove a point to people who don't matter. They are both abusers in a sense. Don't be that woman. Too many woman become that woman. The elders and I prophesied over you, trust…have faith that we know what's what. If he deserves you, he will work with you, change his emotionally abusive ways and apologize…in the meantime build yourself and if he comes back, be graceful about it. Reject gracefully or give him a hug, some kisses and tell him how much you missed him. You will have to forgive and forget this time…None of that bull shit you tried to pull before Ryndra", she directed. " if you are interested in coming together - for real…don't bitch, don't finger wave and DON'T go back and forth on social media; where everyone -EVERYONE-can see you. This guy is a smart guy right?
I nodded, if only to indicate that I considered Chimeze quite smart. Though I didn't tell him that as often as I should.It's hard to get outside yourself, away from that 'me mentality' when you have a illness that rattles your bones, nerves and ofttimes constricts your movement.
"Ok then so why is he doing this? This is like your basic ..."
"Sun Tzo", I said, finishing up her statement. "I know...grandma , I know..'Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win' . You have to map the battle out mentally first, no matter how long it takes. No matter how long it takes...if you want to be successful."
I thought about how I lied to everyone, about everything, to keep things together, not just Chimeze. A lot of people, who should know what was what-in my life-didn't .Not my mom, my brother, my best friend in Boston were all in the dark. I minimized everything, because i needed to think my way out of the scenario, without hurting anyone else. I wasn't going home to my mothers, that was for damn sure. I just wasn't willing to move backwards, with no reassurance that I would ever be able to move forward again. Also, what if I had revealed sensitive information regarding specifics to Chimeze, and he sabotaged me by telling Gerald those things, out of anger. There's a difference between someone with a character deficiency and someone who utilizes deficiencies in character; you know the difference by the results. He didn't seem to know there was a difference.
It was clear that if I wanted to manipulate and leverage this situation into something better, to make up for all of the stress, pain and drama it had caused, I would have to keep him in the dark. "How could he not have faith in me?"
"But does he know pumpkin. Does Chimeze know that there's a plan that makes perfect sense here?"
I pushed my shades up on my head and looked at her, taking a deep breath :"there is a philosophy. more than a plan. I just know that this is really about making the right moves, and he was just too impatient to wait for me to figure out the right moves. Gerald could flip any minute and do something to him, you know?...he said that one time to me , that he was going to hurt Chimeze if I didn't break his heart; and after the car accident, I just...."
"Car accident, what car accident Ryndra?"
Earlier in the year, Chimeze had this crazy car accident. The whole front of his car was pushed in, but thank goodness he was ok. I wasn't in the car with him, but the stress from this situation, that i had caused with my infidelity and greed, clearly influenced his driving abilities. Usually , hes an excellent driver, so this abject decrease in skill was due to something other than ability. I love him so much , and there I was ; masking my love for him, deceiving this other person into believing he had my love ,to prevent him from hurting either I or Chimeze: the one I love.
It was so confusing, because Gerald...you know-at one point-I liked him, so it was hard to stay straight, but just sometimes. Chimeze's prior presence kept me strong, that's why I was always stressing him about staying with me and physically being around me, the vulnerability aspect- and now, without him around-as a barrier-Gerald has a lot of access. unrestricted access, with the door to my home still being compromised. The landlord was playing games, and didn't want to fix it-for fear that I would re invite the 'thug" , who cause damage to the building, and end up in multiple situations where he broke the door -or other things. I understood the perspective, considering how the typical -book described-domestic violence victim was documented to act. However, I had a solid history of doing what i had to do, to get away and never dealing with the same abuser twice.
Chimeze knows, from experience, that I am willing to do what I have to do-to get where I need to be.He was with me, from my eviction, to my mothers home, to my room on the UWS , and then to the latest stop -the efficiency apartment; all within a year. He also knows that I consider him, as I consider myself. It had been a long time and I cared about him enough to keep him safe-even from me. That's why I asked him to break up , all those months before,i realized, so that I could handle my demons-the same way I found them-alone.
I thought about the time, the time I thought was the last time-I had left Gerald's home with the last of my items ; Chimeze assisted me in getting those items home. Suddenly, I was itching and scratching violently and progressively over the three days , following the day I went to retrieve my items. The news made mention of bed bugs and I lost my cool; I was in my mothers home, the one she didn't want me in, and I might have carried in bed bugs from a project apartment , belonging to the mother of a ,almost fifty year old , man that I had a tryst with! She would not have dealt with that news well at all. I may have found myself back at Gerald's mother's home -doing battle with the bed bugs-after I paid for the extermination(s) of my mothers home. Lord knows Chimeze didn't have anywhere to put me...so...I called him up. I was scared to even have the conversation.
"Bed bugs? Ryndra, for real!?"
:Yes, for real...bed bugs. I whispered. "
"From that motherfucking project...motherfucker?", he rhetorically yelled through the phone. As if Gerlald was born of the projects, verses living there. it was hard not to correct him, but I held myself back. This was his anger speaking I thought, not his logic. I felt like Gerald was a bad man because he was an abusive man, not because he lived with his mother in the projects. I mean Chimeze , prior to me, had his share of women who lived in the projects. Women with kids, weed habits, food subsidies, and welfare -the likes of the general public had never seen, and he would cape for them by paying their fifty dollar rent monthly and squiring them around town. Were they bad people, because they lived in the projects. I planned on asking him, after this scenario passed. I loved him, but he was showing me a side of himself that i wasn't sure I could deal with.
Chimeze came through about thirty minutes later, to pick me up. We went to Walmart for bed bug spray, alcohol-of the highest concentration, and mattress covers, in the hopes of stopping the spread . I bought a set of supplies for him and a set for myself, and I had promised to cover any costs associated with the possible bed bug problem. I remember thinking about how awful it all was, and how proud I was to have him by my side. I went to the doctor the next day , early in the morning, because of my concern; instead of carrying bedbugs, I was having a lupus flare. This was bad , but I breathed a sigh of relief at the dodging of that major bullet. According to the news, bed bugs would have taken a 'FEMA level' cleaning ; at his house and my mothers home. It would have inconvenienced so many people and the time and a lot of money that I just didn't have to spend on that type of episode. My physician was surprised to see me so serene at the announcement of my tests showing a flare and that the spontaneous skin itching, and light rashes were signals of lupus activity...
"There are none of the linear bites to indicate bed bug presence, so just relax...I checked twice. Here's a script for prednisone, to help stabilize you-ok?"
"I'm good.", I told my doctor , as I gathered my things. I called Chimeze , on the elevator, to let him know what was going on.He was happy to hear that his car hadn't been compromised by me and my reckless behavior. From what I knew, we had survived the cheating-but bedbugs....I didn't know if there would be anything left to love of me-for him, if I gave him bed bugs. The scenario had terrified me. However, i felt it showed a strength of character. I had taken the lead and taken care of everything. I just didn't understand why he wouldn't let me do that in this situation.
From his social media postings, one would think Chimeze was a pretty forgiving guy, with a most wonderful heart-but his recent actions stated otherwise. He also spent a lot of time telling his 500 follower's, or so , about loyalty-which he seemed to have none of .As Camus said in his novel, The Fall ,“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray.” I loved Chimeze, and I betrayed him-but even though I had been honest in revealing that betrayal , I felt like he didn't really forgive me for cheating, and almost would prefer that I died at Gerald's hands than do anything else to make it all better.
I wish he knew me better. I wish he knew that I was extremely resilient and loyal, but I didn't know whose crime was worse, his for being ignorant or mine for not involving him in the plan in a capacity that he could handle.I just found that impossible because I didn't know what he could handle. I felt like I no longer knew him. He had been so angry, and that was not in his character.
All I could do was revert to my solid history of trying to clean up my 'bad decisions' on my own dime and on my own time. Why not believe in my ability to get it done? I wasn't like any other women he had known, especially not when it came to abusive men. Why would I leave him for someone who was abusing me, scaring me, and at times manipulating my illness to suit his desires.
He had to know , by now, I would rather make the right decision, no matter how long it took, instead of make a wrong move , due to a want of urgency.He wanted me to make decisions to sate his pride , instead of taking my time and making the decisions that would , I believed, save our behinds. I couldn't give into that 'simp' line of thinking. I am not a simpleton, but problem solver-a radical problem solver- when necessary. That's what he seemed to like about me, my ability to fix things after they were broken, in such a way , that had them looking better than when they were brand new. His way of thinking ,which usually involved a lack of patience, had caused him , and ultimately us, many issues over our years of knowing one another.
Like Sway He didn't have any answers-so, to this fine Cuban day, I am still confused as to why he would abandon me in a time of war. I couldn't believe he didn't see this as a war. He just up stopped communicating. Well, other than that degrading nonsense on the social media tip, he had stopped communicating. Oh, and also those chats he would have with Gerald, about me, that Gerald would then send -to me-via email -to stir up feelings of doubt , hopelessness and keep me weak, I'm most sure. Shit, he was just as much Gerald's domestic victim as was I-in many ways.
" It's so stupid, here I am figuring it out-for you and for me-and you antagonizing me! why? Yeah , I lied to his ass about a lot of stuff! (grandma shot me the warning look for use of the word 'ass') "ok, 'his butt', I corrected. "But I had too, he just gets so emotional that he really confides the wrong things -to the wrong people. I don't know that I can trust him anymore. He wouldn't even give me time to make a plan. He wouldn't even read my letters. He sent so many of them back unopened-torturing me."
I looked around, wiped the tears crowding my eyes and rolled my neck:
" I know i cheated, but that hadn't happened since I spilled my guts to him about it-the year before- he SAID, he would forgive me, and in turn I forgave him for the initial affront; it's crazy having someone who claims they are trying to 'get to know you romantically' act funny about paying the bill. Talking about going dutch! what? you invited me out...and then you explain it by telling me that I'm sickly, and therefor worthless...Listen, bottom line, I don't want a boyfriend that doesn't care enough to sustain me.I get so sick sometimes, I may need my partner to sustain me. It's basic shi-, stuff, you know?" Grandma hit me with another warning look-for cursing.
" he just ...he's the same. He hasn't learned -at all. And it's all my fault for cheating. It's my fault. All my fault", I sobbed , face lowered and arms hugging my core."
My tears were clouding my vision, as grandma lifted my chin-so my eyes would be looking directly into her own.
"If he wants to communicate with you, he has to close the window, draw the blinds while you Talk about what's real. Talk about feelings,his feelings and your feelings-not his friends feelings! They don't even know you, to form a whole opinion about you. You told me what they do, and who they are-I dont believe they have the capacity to judge you, because they aren't anything like you. He's asking oranges about apples, and you know it, so don't get twisted up trying to explain where he misunderstood you. If he had been talking to you all along, he would know about the plan and not be bitter.I am surprised he doesn't know you...after all of these years. "
"Grandma, either he really doesn't know me, or he knows what to do to destroy me"
"Well, if hes trying to destroy you-I don't want you with him anyway. It might be time to love someone else, and engage a therapist…just don't be a child. You know you were being a baby, and I don't care if he was acting up - I raised you better," she said grabbing my chin and pulling on it firmly. Forgiveness, that's the last part of the puzzle. "And leave Javier alone. That’s your cousin... You know better," she said again, for emphasis.
Pulling herself back from me, while pacing back and forth immediately in front of the cab, she cried, "ay dio mio, You are both grown, educated people. Cousins for God’s sake! And you…YOU...I expect better from you - all those years at that fancy college and no one taught you not to fuck your cousin?" She stared at me intensely enough to bore holes anywhere she focused, " Don't let Javier in your head, your heart or your pants…especially your pants. I don’t know about him…he might fly to NYC to see you, but you know better…I know you know better," she said, closing the cab door. She then grabbed my hand through the window...peering deeply into my eyes, like she was examining my soul…she whispered, in a voice only I could hear:
"And don’t go back to what broke you before. Don't spend another second trying to prove 'what's what' to that joke of a man, who happens to be African. Don't give either of your abusers another chance to prove a point to people who don't matter. They are both abusers in a sense. Don't be that woman. Too many woman become that woman. The elders and I prophesied over you, trust…have faith that we know what's what. If he deserves you, he will work with you, change his emotionally abusive ways and apologize…in the meantime build yourself and if he comes back, be graceful about it. Reject gracefully or give him a hug, some kisses and tell him how much you missed him. You will have to forgive and forget this time…None of that bull shit you tried to pull before Ryndra", she directed. " if you are interested in coming together - for real…don't bitch, don't finger wave and DON'T go back and forth on social media; where everyone -EVERYONE-can see you. This guy is a smart guy right?
I nodded, if only to indicate that I considered Chimeze quite smart. Though I didn't tell him that as often as I should.It's hard to get outside yourself, away from that 'me mentality' when you have a illness that rattles your bones, nerves and ofttimes constricts your movement.
"Ok then so why is he doing this? This is like your basic ..."
"Sun Tzo", I said, finishing up her statement. "I know...grandma , I know..'Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win' . You have to map the battle out mentally first, no matter how long it takes. No matter how long it takes...if you want to be successful."
I thought about how I lied to everyone, about everything, to keep things together, not just Chimeze. A lot of people, who should know what was what-in my life-didn't .Not my mom, my brother, my best friend in Boston were all in the dark. I minimized everything, because i needed to think my way out of the scenario, without hurting anyone else. I wasn't going home to my mothers, that was for damn sure. I just wasn't willing to move backwards, with no reassurance that I would ever be able to move forward again. Also, what if I had revealed sensitive information regarding specifics to Chimeze, and he sabotaged me by telling Gerald those things, out of anger. There's a difference between someone with a character deficiency and someone who utilizes deficiencies in character; you know the difference by the results. He didn't seem to know there was a difference.
It was clear that if I wanted to manipulate and leverage this situation into something better, to make up for all of the stress, pain and drama it had caused, I would have to keep him in the dark. "How could he not have faith in me?"
"But does he know pumpkin. Does Chimeze know that there's a plan that makes perfect sense here?"
I pushed my shades up on my head and looked at her, taking a deep breath :"there is a philosophy. more than a plan. I just know that this is really about making the right moves, and he was just too impatient to wait for me to figure out the right moves. Gerald could flip any minute and do something to him, you know?...he said that one time to me , that he was going to hurt Chimeze if I didn't break his heart; and after the car accident, I just...."
"Car accident, what car accident Ryndra?"
Earlier in the year, Chimeze had this crazy car accident. The whole front of his car was pushed in, but thank goodness he was ok. I wasn't in the car with him, but the stress from this situation, that i had caused with my infidelity and greed, clearly influenced his driving abilities. Usually , hes an excellent driver, so this abject decrease in skill was due to something other than ability. I love him so much , and there I was ; masking my love for him, deceiving this other person into believing he had my love ,to prevent him from hurting either I or Chimeze: the one I love.
It was so confusing, because Gerald...you know-at one point-I liked him, so it was hard to stay straight, but just sometimes. Chimeze's prior presence kept me strong, that's why I was always stressing him about staying with me and physically being around me, the vulnerability aspect- and now, without him around-as a barrier-Gerald has a lot of access. unrestricted access, with the door to my home still being compromised. The landlord was playing games, and didn't want to fix it-for fear that I would re invite the 'thug" , who cause damage to the building, and end up in multiple situations where he broke the door -or other things. I understood the perspective, considering how the typical -book described-domestic violence victim was documented to act. However, I had a solid history of doing what i had to do, to get away and never dealing with the same abuser twice.
Chimeze knows, from experience, that I am willing to do what I have to do-to get where I need to be.He was with me, from my eviction, to my mothers home, to my room on the UWS , and then to the latest stop -the efficiency apartment; all within a year. He also knows that I consider him, as I consider myself. It had been a long time and I cared about him enough to keep him safe-even from me. That's why I asked him to break up , all those months before,i realized, so that I could handle my demons-the same way I found them-alone.
I thought about the time, the time I thought was the last time-I had left Gerald's home with the last of my items ; Chimeze assisted me in getting those items home. Suddenly, I was itching and scratching violently and progressively over the three days , following the day I went to retrieve my items. The news made mention of bed bugs and I lost my cool; I was in my mothers home, the one she didn't want me in, and I might have carried in bed bugs from a project apartment , belonging to the mother of a ,almost fifty year old , man that I had a tryst with! She would not have dealt with that news well at all. I may have found myself back at Gerald's mother's home -doing battle with the bed bugs-after I paid for the extermination(s) of my mothers home. Lord knows Chimeze didn't have anywhere to put me...so...I called him up. I was scared to even have the conversation.
"Bed bugs? Ryndra, for real!?"
:Yes, for real...bed bugs. I whispered. "
"From that motherfucking project...motherfucker?", he rhetorically yelled through the phone. As if Gerlald was born of the projects, verses living there. it was hard not to correct him, but I held myself back. This was his anger speaking I thought, not his logic. I felt like Gerald was a bad man because he was an abusive man, not because he lived with his mother in the projects. I mean Chimeze , prior to me, had his share of women who lived in the projects. Women with kids, weed habits, food subsidies, and welfare -the likes of the general public had never seen, and he would cape for them by paying their fifty dollar rent monthly and squiring them around town. Were they bad people, because they lived in the projects. I planned on asking him, after this scenario passed. I loved him, but he was showing me a side of himself that i wasn't sure I could deal with.
Chimeze came through about thirty minutes later, to pick me up. We went to Walmart for bed bug spray, alcohol-of the highest concentration, and mattress covers, in the hopes of stopping the spread . I bought a set of supplies for him and a set for myself, and I had promised to cover any costs associated with the possible bed bug problem. I remember thinking about how awful it all was, and how proud I was to have him by my side. I went to the doctor the next day , early in the morning, because of my concern; instead of carrying bedbugs, I was having a lupus flare. This was bad , but I breathed a sigh of relief at the dodging of that major bullet. According to the news, bed bugs would have taken a 'FEMA level' cleaning ; at his house and my mothers home. It would have inconvenienced so many people and the time and a lot of money that I just didn't have to spend on that type of episode. My physician was surprised to see me so serene at the announcement of my tests showing a flare and that the spontaneous skin itching, and light rashes were signals of lupus activity...
"There are none of the linear bites to indicate bed bug presence, so just relax...I checked twice. Here's a script for prednisone, to help stabilize you-ok?"
"I'm good.", I told my doctor , as I gathered my things. I called Chimeze , on the elevator, to let him know what was going on.He was happy to hear that his car hadn't been compromised by me and my reckless behavior. From what I knew, we had survived the cheating-but bedbugs....I didn't know if there would be anything left to love of me-for him, if I gave him bed bugs. The scenario had terrified me. However, i felt it showed a strength of character. I had taken the lead and taken care of everything. I just didn't understand why he wouldn't let me do that in this situation.
From his social media postings, one would think Chimeze was a pretty forgiving guy, with a most wonderful heart-but his recent actions stated otherwise. He also spent a lot of time telling his 500 follower's, or so , about loyalty-which he seemed to have none of .As Camus said in his novel, The Fall ,“I used to advertise my loyalty and I don't believe there is a single person I loved that I didn't eventually betray.” I loved Chimeze, and I betrayed him-but even though I had been honest in revealing that betrayal , I felt like he didn't really forgive me for cheating, and almost would prefer that I died at Gerald's hands than do anything else to make it all better.
I wish he knew me better. I wish he knew that I was extremely resilient and loyal, but I didn't know whose crime was worse, his for being ignorant or mine for not involving him in the plan in a capacity that he could handle.I just found that impossible because I didn't know what he could handle. I felt like I no longer knew him. He had been so angry, and that was not in his character.
All I could do was revert to my solid history of trying to clean up my 'bad decisions' on my own dime and on my own time. Why not believe in my ability to get it done? I wasn't like any other women he had known, especially not when it came to abusive men. Why would I leave him for someone who was abusing me, scaring me, and at times manipulating my illness to suit his desires.
He had to know , by now, I would rather make the right decision, no matter how long it took, instead of make a wrong move , due to a want of urgency.He wanted me to make decisions to sate his pride , instead of taking my time and making the decisions that would , I believed, save our behinds. I couldn't give into that 'simp' line of thinking. I am not a simpleton, but problem solver-a radical problem solver- when necessary. That's what he seemed to like about me, my ability to fix things after they were broken, in such a way , that had them looking better than when they were brand new. His way of thinking ,which usually involved a lack of patience, had caused him , and ultimately us, many issues over our years of knowing one another.
Like Sway He didn't have any answers-so, to this fine Cuban day, I am still confused as to why he would abandon me in a time of war. I couldn't believe he didn't see this as a war. He just up stopped communicating. Well, other than that degrading nonsense on the social media tip, he had stopped communicating. Oh, and also those chats he would have with Gerald, about me, that Gerald would then send -to me-via email -to stir up feelings of doubt , hopelessness and keep me weak, I'm most sure. Shit, he was just as much Gerald's domestic victim as was I-in many ways.
" It's so stupid, here I am figuring it out-for you and for me-and you antagonizing me! why? Yeah , I lied to his ass about a lot of stuff! (grandma shot me the warning look for use of the word 'ass') "ok, 'his butt', I corrected. "But I had too, he just gets so emotional that he really confides the wrong things -to the wrong people. I don't know that I can trust him anymore. He wouldn't even give me time to make a plan. He wouldn't even read my letters. He sent so many of them back unopened-torturing me."
I looked around, wiped the tears crowding my eyes and rolled my neck:
" I know i cheated, but that hadn't happened since I spilled my guts to him about it-the year before- he SAID, he would forgive me, and in turn I forgave him for the initial affront; it's crazy having someone who claims they are trying to 'get to know you romantically' act funny about paying the bill. Talking about going dutch! what? you invited me out...and then you explain it by telling me that I'm sickly, and therefor worthless...Listen, bottom line, I don't want a boyfriend that doesn't care enough to sustain me.I get so sick sometimes, I may need my partner to sustain me. It's basic shi-, stuff, you know?" Grandma hit me with another warning look-for cursing.
" he just ...he's the same. He hasn't learned -at all. And it's all my fault for cheating. It's my fault. All my fault", I sobbed , face lowered and arms hugging my core."
My tears were clouding my vision, as grandma lifted my chin-so my eyes would be looking directly into her own.
"If he wants to communicate with you, he has to close the window, draw the blinds while you Talk about what's real. Talk about feelings,his feelings and your feelings-not his friends feelings! They don't even know you, to form a whole opinion about you. You told me what they do, and who they are-I dont believe they have the capacity to judge you, because they aren't anything like you. He's asking oranges about apples, and you know it, so don't get twisted up trying to explain where he misunderstood you. If he had been talking to you all along, he would know about the plan and not be bitter.I am surprised he doesn't know you...after all of these years. "
"Grandma, either he really doesn't know me, or he knows what to do to destroy me"
"Well, if hes trying to destroy you-I don't want you with him anyway. It might be time to love someone else, and engage a therapist…just don't be a child. You know you were being a baby, and I don't care if he was acting up - I raised you better," she said grabbing my chin and pulling on it firmly. Forgiveness, that's the last part of the puzzle. "And leave Javier alone. That’s your cousin... You know better," she said again, for emphasis.
"I
don’t agree with that," I whispered. Of course she heard me and
returned to the cabs side. "What do you mean, you don’t agree, baby? That is
your cousin, I know better than anyone. That’s not up for debate."
"I
don’t agree forgiveness is the last piece of the puzzle, or maybe it is - but
not for whom you and what you think…" I said even more softly.
"Actually, I think you owe me an apology, because we both know that there's something more." There was a pregnant pause, almost dangerous in the way time stood still and nothingness was just nothing. I felt the wind that was barely there enough to move the blades of grass on my neck and knew things weren’t going to move the way I wanted them too… I recognized the danger zone and backpedaled quickly, before she could fill it with anything real. I blurted out, "I’m sorry, grandma. I didn’t mean it like that. You did the best you could, as good as anyone would in that kind of situation."
I
watched her exhale deep and her body lose it’s tension. Honestly, I
think she was tensed because she never expected me to tell her that she was
wrong or that she had failed me. African American adults never expect
that from the younger generation, because it’s unheard of that we would check
them for their wrongs; as adults, they believe they have an immunity from being
held accountable for past decisions, no matter whom said decisions have
impacted. It’s a right of passage so to speak. A right of passage all of the
Santeria and prayer almost gave me the strength to side step. 'Shit, even
the ancestor and spirits know she's wrong,' I thought silently. I don’t
know what made me take a step back from telling her how I really felt.
Actually, I do know….The fact is, She is older, and this may be the last time I see her. I know she loves me and I don’t want to carry the fact that I made her uncomfortable, in her last days, while she was trying to help me 'walk through the shadow of the valley of death'- so to speak…I had bigger issues than something that happened over twenty years ago…that was something some expensive therapy sessions could help. However, I may never get another chance to speak with my grandmother ever again. I cant have our last words be some accusatory, negative or hurtful mess. Right or wrong, I knew I would never sleep again - her ass would probably haunt me. I chuckled under my breath at the thought…
Actually, I do know….The fact is, She is older, and this may be the last time I see her. I know she loves me and I don’t want to carry the fact that I made her uncomfortable, in her last days, while she was trying to help me 'walk through the shadow of the valley of death'- so to speak…I had bigger issues than something that happened over twenty years ago…that was something some expensive therapy sessions could help. However, I may never get another chance to speak with my grandmother ever again. I cant have our last words be some accusatory, negative or hurtful mess. Right or wrong, I knew I would never sleep again - her ass would probably haunt me. I chuckled under my breath at the thought…
"I
didn’t like what he did - you know - back then, but I didn’t think it was bad enough
that I should have to sacrifice one of my beloved grandchildren for the sake of
another."
Suddenly
she sobbed, "I couldn’t allow him to be detained for something as simple
as what happened. He was like 8 -" she looked at me, pleading that I
'get it' with her eyes.
I felt like she gave up her amnesty when she started running her mouth, so I dryly corrected her, "10."
I felt like she gave up her amnesty when she started running her mouth, so I dryly corrected her, "10."
"What,"
she asked me, looking at me like, 'how dare you interrupt me.' Her eyes
were on fire, but I didn’t care. "10," I said again more
firmly, "He was ten years old. I think that’s old enough to know
better than to molest your four year old cousin. He knew better, he said
you sent him away when he was nine as well, but that wasn’t because of the
incident with me…." I trailed off. She got the picture now, I was sure.
"Ryndra…don’t
you start. How many years ago was that? I protected you as best I
could from him. You don’t even remember…he didn’t hurt you…" she
said to my blank face.
"What
did he do to you that you haven’t experienced at the hands of someone as grown
as you by now…Don’t act like that changed you. It didn’t damage you or
hurt you. What, going to that White school out East made you soft?
You aren’t White, you know…do you know that? You are Black.
You are strong. This type of shit happens. It’s family,"
she pleaded with me to agree….
"Look,"
she tapered off dismissively, "I know my grand baby, my grand babies; you
and him. You can both be very charming…he wanted to charm you and
you...you wanted to be charmed…"
"Oh,
charmed... I wanted to be charmed…at four," I said sarcastically.
Ignoring
me, she continued. "I loved you both…your great aunt (she referred
to her daughter who lived near this eastern part of the island seasonally)
suggested you stay away for a bit. All Javier had was us, we owed it to
him…""But
as your granddaughter, what did you owe me? As a young girl growing into
a woman, what did you owe me," I finished, as I saw the cab driver ending
his conversation, so I decided to wrap our situation up and let her know what I
had decided only moments ago: "Look,
we will probably never talk about this ever again…but I think it’s best that
you keep Javier out of NYC, and you know what I mean…you like teaching, well
since being here I've found that I'm like you in that way. I like
teaching, but 'city lessons' aren’t like country lessons…you love Javier more
than you love me. It’s obvious…and you may know him better than me.
Don’t make me teach Javier about the part of me that is just a woman, not
a cousin. He knows me even less than you…he should stay in familiar
territory…it’s best to keep his molesting-ass on this island," I
stated, adjusting myself and securing my carry on's and 'Pan Dulce" in the seat next to me.
The
cab driver opened the driver’s door and I slipped to the window to share a
customary kiss with my grandmother, one that, considering her age, would
probably be our last kiss. Gripping my shoulder, not too tenderly, she
whispered, "Ryndra, the drug game is not for women…stop posturing,"
she leaned back out of the window, saying, "And…Don’t go against
family…It’s not the right move. Make it, and your most lasting lesson may
very well be the last thing you learn." , she stated, before hitting the side of the car, so the driver would start driving.
The car crept slowly, and then more steadily away from her home; Betraying
nothing, and honestly, quite sick at all that I had learned in the last five
minutes, I waved like she didn’t just threaten my livelihood. My life.
I was
confused, but determined not to show any vulnerability…this was so weird,
because I revel in family; I was so shocked that she had taken Javier’s side so
firmly. It was wrong and I was loathe to connect my grandmother, someone
who I had admired, loved and whose opinion I considered final, with deviancy -
especially on the part of a nigga who happened to be blood. That’s what
Javier was, really, truly - a nigga who liked to prey on women. Watching
my grandmother lock eyes with me menacingly, as the cab bumped down the rough
road toward the airport, I wondered how many young girls and young women Javier
had victimized in his lifetime. Was this shortened trip my grandmothers
way of protecting me? I wondered if there were a lot of women who started off with a cousin like Javier, and ended up growing older and being consistently preyed upon by abusive and ofttimes older men, as I had. I choose these men intermittently, but it was because of someone else s choices-long ago.
I needed to think on this, and really try to heal, but not until after I finished using this pain to implement what was necessary. I had decided this thing would be a "go" since right after Chimeze left. I needed him to leave me, even though I didn't want him to leave me. The sophisticated levels of deception , on my part, were wearing me out. Maybe, if I would have told him my ideas, instead of refusing to talk to him-things could have been better. I wish I would have told him that this wasn't my first bout with domestic violence. That I was aware of what it would take , to really shake Gerald. That I knew it would take time and a complete upheaval of my life:
I was just so embarrassed as to what I had initially allowed to happen to me again, this would be my third time getting hooked under the spell of an abusive man. I had had my cousin molest me, but after him , maybe even because of that-at fourteen, I "dated" a 28 year old man ,who unsurprisingly to everyone else, took acute advantage of me.
I had met him on my way to school, and sooner than later I wasn't going to school as often as I should have-then eventually I wasn't going to school at all. My stellar grades were dropping and I had dropped out of all of my extra curricular activities . He had wanted me to spend all of my time on him and with him. I was ok with it, until I realized I was ruining my future with someone who had already chosen to ruin his own future. Waking up one of those days , sleeping in a bathtub with him, in a dilapidated apartment-most recently taken over by squatters (us included)-on 141st st in Harlem changed my view. When I tried to leave , he degraded me by spilling , what he told me was, urine ,in a container , on me and also pressing my arm against a hot radiator , which caused a wound that bubbled and swelled for months. Immediately after this intense incident, I left him. He followed me , carrying my things in plastic garbage bags, to my great aunts high rise apartment building:
"you good", he asked me , lying the bags containing my clothing close to my feet.
"i'm fine", i lied, standing their soaking in whatever he had poured on me during the assault while leaning back to avoid his hug and ringing my aunts bell. He hustled away, leaving me to await the doorman's My aunt Jenene was a hoarder, with 35 years worth of living, living in the 5A section of the luxury apartment building with her. There were roaches, mice and a literal hoard of clothing piled, bunched and strewn on every surface the eye could see. My aunt grabbed me into the house. I waited until she closed and turned the three locks, on the door, before I sunk to the floor and cried. Assisting me to my feet, she lead me to the bathroom , bracing my weight against her. where she helped me shower and get ready for bed.I remember rolling all over her bed, rustling the newspapers that had taken up residency in the bed , with her, and now I, over time.
***
I was just as tired then, as I found myself now, post all the prayer, thought and planning in my head. I was just exhausted In this moment, I wish I could have left Gerald a long time ago, because I knew he was going to stress me out . I looked down at my fingers , they were starting to swell up, and felt my arms itching. Watching the my hives begin to 'raise up and redden' on my arms, from all of the intense scratching freaked me out. I didn't bring my steroid creme or steroids with me , to start stabilizing the flare.
Looking at the lightning, I hoped this rickety plane would get me home safely and soon.Stuff that took place before Cuba even was wearing me out. I wondered what Gerald was doing. Was he at my house? I hadn't checked in with him, because I really didn't want to speak or email with him -unless I absolutely had too, but my pets needed their food and water daily. So, I had left Gerald at my home, with my keys -rather he had insisted on being left there- with the keys:
"since you are just abandoning me for a family trip, with family you haven't seen in far too long, for you to designate them as more important than me. The least you could do is leave the keys...I can get to work faster...and I can feed the turtles."
I sighed, giving in to the demand, not wanting to be late for my uber due to a stupid argument. Gerald was on his way out anyway, so why not let him just be there-with the added bonus of him being there without me...
"you will feed the bunny as well, correct?", I had to make sure, as my pet rabbit didn't gel too well with gerald."
"why wouldn't I feed the turtles and not the rabbit?"
"Well...I know you get a little peeved because the rabbit chews on-"
"shut up Ryndra, shut the fuck up. That rabbit should know better than to just chew on things. why do you have a rabbit anyway..., so fucking tired of this thing !", he screamed kicking out at my rabbit who was just laying mid floor, splayed out peacefully, and who reacted by running and hiding under the bed. Then looking out at me , like a beat child, from underneath it."
I had to leave shortly after that, but It only made me more determined to figure it all out, so I could get away from this man who seemed hell bent on controlling everything about me-even to the point of terrorizing my animals...'who does that?' I wondered as the plane sunk slowly and purposefully onto the runway at JFK.
I needed to think on this, and really try to heal, but not until after I finished using this pain to implement what was necessary. I had decided this thing would be a "go" since right after Chimeze left. I needed him to leave me, even though I didn't want him to leave me. The sophisticated levels of deception , on my part, were wearing me out. Maybe, if I would have told him my ideas, instead of refusing to talk to him-things could have been better. I wish I would have told him that this wasn't my first bout with domestic violence. That I was aware of what it would take , to really shake Gerald. That I knew it would take time and a complete upheaval of my life:
I was just so embarrassed as to what I had initially allowed to happen to me again, this would be my third time getting hooked under the spell of an abusive man. I had had my cousin molest me, but after him , maybe even because of that-at fourteen, I "dated" a 28 year old man ,who unsurprisingly to everyone else, took acute advantage of me.
I had met him on my way to school, and sooner than later I wasn't going to school as often as I should have-then eventually I wasn't going to school at all. My stellar grades were dropping and I had dropped out of all of my extra curricular activities . He had wanted me to spend all of my time on him and with him. I was ok with it, until I realized I was ruining my future with someone who had already chosen to ruin his own future. Waking up one of those days , sleeping in a bathtub with him, in a dilapidated apartment-most recently taken over by squatters (us included)-on 141st st in Harlem changed my view. When I tried to leave , he degraded me by spilling , what he told me was, urine ,in a container , on me and also pressing my arm against a hot radiator , which caused a wound that bubbled and swelled for months. Immediately after this intense incident, I left him. He followed me , carrying my things in plastic garbage bags, to my great aunts high rise apartment building:
"you good", he asked me , lying the bags containing my clothing close to my feet.
"i'm fine", i lied, standing their soaking in whatever he had poured on me during the assault while leaning back to avoid his hug and ringing my aunts bell. He hustled away, leaving me to await the doorman's My aunt Jenene was a hoarder, with 35 years worth of living, living in the 5A section of the luxury apartment building with her. There were roaches, mice and a literal hoard of clothing piled, bunched and strewn on every surface the eye could see. My aunt grabbed me into the house. I waited until she closed and turned the three locks, on the door, before I sunk to the floor and cried. Assisting me to my feet, she lead me to the bathroom , bracing my weight against her. where she helped me shower and get ready for bed.I remember rolling all over her bed, rustling the newspapers that had taken up residency in the bed , with her, and now I, over time.
***
I was just as tired then, as I found myself now, post all the prayer, thought and planning in my head. I was just exhausted In this moment, I wish I could have left Gerald a long time ago, because I knew he was going to stress me out . I looked down at my fingers , they were starting to swell up, and felt my arms itching. Watching the my hives begin to 'raise up and redden' on my arms, from all of the intense scratching freaked me out. I didn't bring my steroid creme or steroids with me , to start stabilizing the flare.
Looking at the lightning, I hoped this rickety plane would get me home safely and soon.Stuff that took place before Cuba even was wearing me out. I wondered what Gerald was doing. Was he at my house? I hadn't checked in with him, because I really didn't want to speak or email with him -unless I absolutely had too, but my pets needed their food and water daily. So, I had left Gerald at my home, with my keys -rather he had insisted on being left there- with the keys:
"since you are just abandoning me for a family trip, with family you haven't seen in far too long, for you to designate them as more important than me. The least you could do is leave the keys...I can get to work faster...and I can feed the turtles."
I sighed, giving in to the demand, not wanting to be late for my uber due to a stupid argument. Gerald was on his way out anyway, so why not let him just be there-with the added bonus of him being there without me...
"you will feed the bunny as well, correct?", I had to make sure, as my pet rabbit didn't gel too well with gerald."
"why wouldn't I feed the turtles and not the rabbit?"
"Well...I know you get a little peeved because the rabbit chews on-"
"shut up Ryndra, shut the fuck up. That rabbit should know better than to just chew on things. why do you have a rabbit anyway..., so fucking tired of this thing !", he screamed kicking out at my rabbit who was just laying mid floor, splayed out peacefully, and who reacted by running and hiding under the bed. Then looking out at me , like a beat child, from underneath it."
I had to leave shortly after that, but It only made me more determined to figure it all out, so I could get away from this man who seemed hell bent on controlling everything about me-even to the point of terrorizing my animals...'who does that?' I wondered as the plane sunk slowly and purposefully onto the runway at JFK.
 |
| MOOD |
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