Marcel had me on some other shit. I often told people that he took my mind and ran with it, without me even knowing that it was gone. I can definitely say that I learned the gift of gab and the art of persuasion from him. He was a master at it. Someone who could take your words and make them fit to what he wants you to believe is the right thing. I would probably spit in his face if I saw him today. I don't know why I have so much hatred in my heart for him? It's been 16 years since we've been together. At least I don't think about him anymore because I used to do a lot of that. Initially we were happy and I didn't think that anything would ever come in the way of that but it did. When I lived in Baltimore and we were dating it was bliss. I was usually over his house or he over mine. We must have slept together 12 times before anything sexual happened. It was becoming scary like I thought he was gay or something. It got to the point where I had to make the first move but later on I would wish that I hadn't. I contracted a venereal disease after having sex with Marcel the first time. Three days afterward I felt funny when I went to the bathroom. I just thought that it was a sensation that came from having sex too rough but come to find out it was an STD. After two weeks of what became somewhat agonizing pain, I called my mom and told her what happened. My mom had put me on birth control when I was 15 because she had me when she was 19 and didn't want me to go through the same thing as her. So, she wasn't surprised about me having sex, it was the waiting so long before calling her that upset her so much. She convinced my father that I had become ill and him and my uncle drove down to Baltimore to pick me up. The whole time that I was back in Philly, Chanel told me that Marcel had been calling there asking where I was and why I went home. She just told him I was sick. During my bed rest at home I was treating this disease with the proper medications and creams and such, all the while, Amigo, my current boyfriend at the time, was there holding my hand and comforting me. I know, I wasn't shit! He just thought I was sick too. That was too embarrassing for me to tell anyone and I can't really believe that I'm saying it now but I feel that if I'm gonna put my life story on paper then I must commit to telling the truth. Basically, I can't put everyone else's shit out there without airing my own dirty laundry as well. Nonetheless, I was going through some major shit.
When I got back to school I had no intention of talking to Marcel again! I was ducking him BIG time! He would call my dorm room and I would have my roommate tell him I wasn't there and then I would run down the hall to Chanel's room and tell her to tell him the same thing. Anyone that knew me, knew that if I wasn't in my room, I was in Chanel's. However, I wasn't tryin' to holla at him at all. Finally, he caught up with me at the Howard vs. Morgan basketball game. He asked me, in his country accent, "What's up Shawty? Where have you been? I've been calling you, I heard you were sick. What the fuck was wrong with you?" I told him that I had the flu. I don't know why I didn't cuss him out? I think I was scared that I would really be incriminating myself by screamin' some shit like that out in the open. I think he knew for real what the deal was, I mean it DID come from him! Camille swears up and down that he knew. She still, to this day, calls him a "dirty bitch" and I concur. This is the crazy part..........He called me to go out a few days after that and I went! Why? I had some crazy notion that I wouldn't have to worry about transmitting any diseases if I was dealing with the person who fucked me over in the first place. Wear a condom, right but what did you expect from me, I was naive and immature and now that I think about it, crazy! I was fishing for a reason to make sense of it all. So, I was still fuckin' wit dude like a nut! My overall attitude had changed though. I wasn't really goin' for any of his pretty boy bullshit. I could tell, by his attitude, that the bitches did anything he asked them to. He was prettier than me so I couldn't really knock the bitches for acting like servants for him, nor could I blame him for his overall attitude. He probably ran over everybody but not me.
One day he came to the dorm to pick me up. He had his roommate with him so he asked if I could bring someone with me to double date. I asked my roommate if she wanted to go and she said okay. So, we were on our way outside and I noticed that his roommate had gotten out of the car to let us in the back seat. Now, Liam Kennedy had told me long ago that a lady is ALWAYS supposed to sit in the front. It was the gentleman thing to put yourself in the back seat and allow the female to take the front seat. Well, this was what I thought the roommate was doing; so my friend got in the back seat and I waited for him to get in after her so that I would be up front with Marcel but Noooooooo. He just looked at me and said, "Are you getting in?" You know me, I blew up the spot screaming, "What the fuck are you talking about? You take the back seat, dude. I'm a fuckin' lady!" (not with that mouth! LOL!) but you know what I'm sayin'. Marcel, was on some super cool shit, "Shawty, get in the back seat or don't go!" I looked at him and said, "Fuck You! Come on girl, get out, let's go!" He was astounded! I don't think he expected that of me, so when I started walking back towards the dorm, he was out of the car screaming, "Shawty, stop playin' and come back!" I just flagged him and kept on going. Fuck that nigga, I thought. He ain't even worth it. So, several of those types of situations went on and he started to get the picture. I wasn't taking any shit but that's what, I think, attracted him to me in the first place. When I moved out the dorm and got an apartment, I began to see a lot more of him. He would often stay the night, cook for me and all kinds of stuff. I never had a guy cook for me before then so, that seemed like a special effort on his part. He used to let me drive his car to class sometimes. He had a Acura coupe so I was frontin' when I got the chance. I got that shit towed one day cause I parked in a bad spot and he wasn't even mad. I had come out of class to find the car up on the tow bed and I remember hollering and waving my arms for them to stop but they didn't see me. I was scared to go home that day but when I finally got up the courage to call, I spoke with my new roommate, Key Note, who also happened to be a childhood friend of mine, explained to her what had happened and asked her to tell him for me. He got on the phone and just laughed and told me to come home. I also remember one night when he came in and gave me $500 and said, "Go shopping with that Shawty and buy me something too." He had robbed someone that night and gave me part of the proceeds. It wasn't armed robbery. He went to make a drug deal go down and instead of passing off the drugs, he kept them and took the money from dude. I didn't care cause I was eatin' off that shit! There were no ties between me and them, what the fuck did I care? In the long run though, it caused me to withdraw from school cause I wasn't making any classes. I figured that I'd rather withdraw than fuck up my GPA. When everybody was leaving for class at 8:30am, me and Chanel and Key Note were usually just coming in from parties and shit. I wasn't in Baltimore doing what I was supposed to do and all the while, my grandmom was footin' the bill. Finally, she called and told me that I had to come home cause she wasn't going to pay for me to just live in Baltimore and do nothing. My phone bills were high because all my friends were in Philly and the car insurance was high cause I kept getting speeding tickets going up and down the highway, it was just time for me to leave. I was very sad about going because it was also, time for me to face reality. I wasn't ready to grow up for real. When I told Marcel, he looked at me and said, "It's gonna be okay. I might fuck around and come to Philly and we can look for an apartment together." I thought that was a nice gesture to help me feel better but I didn't believe him. I was still under the impression that niggas be bullshittin'. My first weekend home, I went to the Plateau with Camille and Chanel and flirted with the mens a little bit. I met this little guy with a BIG attitude that day but I'll elaborate on him later. Marcel had gotten me a $10,000 necklace for my birthday and a lot of guys would stop me and compliment me on it. I must say that neck piece was a man catcher. I was starting to feel better. I got a job at Prudential in Fort Washington, PA. The pay wasn't the greatest but it was my first job and I guess I half enjoyed it. Then one day I got a phone call from Marcel. He said that he was comin' to Philly so that we could look for apartments. My heart dropped! I had been going to visit him on the weekends and shit when I wanted to get away but I had dudes here in Philly. How could I jeopardize that? I got nervous because I didn't really know how to deny him of his wishes. I think I feared him emotionally. When he came up that weekend we looked at some places. We found a nice jawn on Germantown Avenue on the outskirts of Chestnut Hill. The ceilings were high and the windows were big. It was nice as shit. I really liked it. So, we put down a deposit and got ready to move in. His birthday fell on the weekend we were moving in, I'll never forget it. It was October the 30th..........he was turning 27. Camille went with me to get his cake and I remember her saying, "Damn, you got yourself an old man." I was only 19 at the time. Although, I must say, that I was very mature for my age; well that's what I thought at least. I got him a whole sheet cake, some crab legs, two bottles of champagne and some balloons. There wasn't any furniture in the apartment yet so I just set all the stuff up on the floor very nicely. I went to get him from the train station and we went back to the apartment. That night was lovely. We got drunk and ate crabs, then we fucked in every room of the apartment, with no blinds or anything in the windows. I was once again in love with him. I used to watch him sleep and everything. It sounds psychotic but he was so beautiful to me. More beautiful than I was to myself and then the arguments started. I had to be to work at 7:00am, so he would have me drop him off at the train station in order for him to go back to Baltimore and take care of his "business" during the day. The money down there was the truth! Mostly all of the drug dealers in Philly, at that time, sold coke. Baltimore niggas were gettin' it in with heroine. That was like 100 times more money than coke, they gave out more time for pushing heroine as well so most dudes weren't really willing to take the chance of getting caught with it. He felt like he had to go home to get his paper right and I wasn't complaining about it either. He would always come back with tens of thousands of dollars everyday. I remember one day, he got off the train with a duffle bag full of money! I'm not gonna lie, I got used to the money. I got SO used to the money that the arguments didn't matter. Me being miserable didn't matter and the unhappiness didn't matter; I had money but this nigga just started disrespecting me after a while. I decided to buy a car in January of 93'. He told me that I didn't have to worry about the payments because he would take care of them. I wasn't dumb though. When I went to get the car I made sure that one of my paychecks would be enough to cover the car note, just in case some shit went down. He paid all of the bills and my money was my money. That's what I'm talking about........carefree living. But that carefree living came with a price....I was miserable. You will never be able to pay someone enough money to take the misery away. Marcel talked to me any kind of way; he was just ignorant. One weekend we were supposed to go to the movies and dinner but he had to run to Baltimore to take care of something real fast. He left early in the morning and said that he would be back by 7:00pm. Of course, he took the car, I mean he was payin' for it but 7:00pm came and 7:00pm went. I paged him to see what was going on. I was all dressed and ready to go. I kinda hoped that he didn't call back cause he was on the highway or close by but unfortunately he wasn't. He called back and and I asked him where he was and the mutha fucka said, "Baltimore!" I was heated cause it was already 9:00pm so I knew that bitch wouldn't be back until well after 11:00pm but that was only if he was leaving right then. I said, "Why the fuck are you still there? You told me you would be back by 7:00pm!" and he gave me his famous line, "I don't have to explain anything to you. I'm a grown fuckin' man." He was always talkin' about he's a grown fuckin' man. I guess 8 years is a major difference at that age but it made me feel inferior to him. He always used to tell me I was fat and I was only 4'11" and 115 lbs. But I went on diet after diet for this guy. I was bent on pleasing him, even if that meant degrading myself. When I was in college and we were dating, he told me that if I wanted to maintain a relationship, that there were "certain" things that I had to be willing to do. This was the conversation that led me to sucking his dick. I got books and shit to learn how to do it. I was tryin' to keep this nigga to myself. I didn't want anybody else to do what I wasn't doing, so I did it all with the exception of that anal shit cause I just wasn't there yet. The first time I tried the oral sex act with him, I asked him how he rated my performance and he gave me a "so-so" type of "It was alright" type of comment. Me, being a perfectionist, was not so happy with that so I asked this gay guy that I was cool with for some pointers. He suggested that I go to the bookstore and purchase this book titled E.S.O. I'll never forget it! The E.S.O. stood for Extended Sexual Orgasms and it was this sort of guide for great sex. Man, oh, man did I study that book! I highlighted information in it and everything. The next time I made the oral sex attempt, I was so good at it that this mutha fucka looked at me and said, "Man, you did this shit before you fuckin liar!" Oh God! I had to pull that book out for him so he didn't think I was a slut......how embarrassing! I cooked for him and cleaned the house. I sucked his dick and washed his clothes. What else did he want from me? My soul probably cause this dude was the devil. He would have these really intense conversations with me regarding the way I dressed and wore my hair. He didn't like anything I did and for some odd reason I wanted to change all of that for him. I actually changed myself to please someone else and that is something that I will NEVER do again! It was me that he fell in love with; not the bitch he was trying to make me become. I became very depressed. My friends wouldn't really call the house too much because they didn't like him. Not to mention, it would cause arguments because he would think that they were calling me to tell me about some other nigga. Those were his personal insecurities but I didn't realize that at the time. My mom called me one day and asked if I had been brainwashed because I just wasn't myself lately. I even got my mom to hire this mutha fucka at her job because he was always whinin' about how he didn't want to be in the streets no more cause it was stressin' him out and then there was that night...... We were lying there in the bed and I had my back to him. I wasn't sleeping yet because I was mad from a prior argument we had. He said, "Shawty, are you sleep?" I said, "No!" with an attitude. He said, "I don't think that we should live together anymore. I still want to be with you but our living arrangements aren't working out. If you go back to your mom's you"ll be right around the corner so it won't be hard for us to see each other." I was floored! My heart was broken and to think after all I did for him. I snapped back almost immediately after that comment; the bitch he fell in love with was on her way back! I said to him, in a very nice tone, "If I move out, that's IT for me and you. In life, you can go from A to B but you can't go from B to A, that's just backwards. You best believe that if I go back to mommy's I'm not fuckin' wit you no more!" He tried to debate and argue his point but I just wasn't hearin' it. He wasn't sayin' that he changed his mind; he still wanted to be able to fuck probably. I don't know? But I was upset! Emotionally distraught is a better way to put it. The next day was terrible for me. I was mopin' around and shit at work. I felt like I wanted to cry every five minutes. I wasn't in the mood for any jokes or smiles. Shit, I was just fucked up! I moved my shit out that weekend and during that move he asked me, "What are we gonna do about the car?" I said, "We? What do you mean we? That car is in my fuckin' name so it's going with me." He said, "......but I've been paying for it since you got it." And I just looked at him and said, "I know....Thank You." And I left. I cried everyday and when I was just getting over the edge, Chanel called me at work. She said that she saw him outside talkin' to this young girl that lived near Camille. I was young at the time and she was even younger! She was only 17 and knowing that, hurt me. Chanel must have called me at work 10 times that day! Tellin' me this and that about the broad. I had had enough! To make a long story short I ended up beatin' the bitch's ass! Not for him but because she was talkin' shit about the situation like she was seein' him before we broke up. To me that was grounds for an ass kickin'. I'm the one who brought the nigga from Baltimore in the first place, everybody knew that! She knew who's man she was dealin' with! So, I beat the bitch up. Fucked up her face and everything. Come to find out.....that nut bitch was allergic to aloe and couldn't put anything on her face to help it heal faster and she was a really pretty girl so I was more than happy to hear about that shit. And you know this nigga had the nerve to call me and ask me why I did that to her? I told him, that I wanted the both of them to think about me as a couple; so when she looks in the mirror, she thinks about me and when he looked at her, he thought about me as well. Fuck them! That was my closure. I took a lot of pills during that period. It was the only thing that helped make my life easier at the time. I drank a lot and smoked a lot of weed. I was drowning myself in drugs to prevent from facing reality. That was a very hard period in my life but little did I know, that particular situation was not over. I was going through it at my mom's house. I hadn't been there in so many years that it was almost impossible for me to adapt to their bullshit again. So, I stayed out of the house as to not be bothered by my crazy, ass grandmother. I really tried to keep myself occupied so that I wouldn't be bombarded with these repeated thoughts of loneliness. And through all the stress, depression and drugs I must have lost about 15 lbs., which put me at an even 100 lbs. I had a broken heart. That is something that can't be fixed by a doctor.
When I got back to school I had no intention of talking to Marcel again! I was ducking him BIG time! He would call my dorm room and I would have my roommate tell him I wasn't there and then I would run down the hall to Chanel's room and tell her to tell him the same thing. Anyone that knew me, knew that if I wasn't in my room, I was in Chanel's. However, I wasn't tryin' to holla at him at all. Finally, he caught up with me at the Howard vs. Morgan basketball game. He asked me, in his country accent, "What's up Shawty? Where have you been? I've been calling you, I heard you were sick. What the fuck was wrong with you?" I told him that I had the flu. I don't know why I didn't cuss him out? I think I was scared that I would really be incriminating myself by screamin' some shit like that out in the open. I think he knew for real what the deal was, I mean it DID come from him! Camille swears up and down that he knew. She still, to this day, calls him a "dirty bitch" and I concur. This is the crazy part..........He called me to go out a few days after that and I went! Why? I had some crazy notion that I wouldn't have to worry about transmitting any diseases if I was dealing with the person who fucked me over in the first place. Wear a condom, right but what did you expect from me, I was naive and immature and now that I think about it, crazy! I was fishing for a reason to make sense of it all. So, I was still fuckin' wit dude like a nut! My overall attitude had changed though. I wasn't really goin' for any of his pretty boy bullshit. I could tell, by his attitude, that the bitches did anything he asked them to. He was prettier than me so I couldn't really knock the bitches for acting like servants for him, nor could I blame him for his overall attitude. He probably ran over everybody but not me.
One day he came to the dorm to pick me up. He had his roommate with him so he asked if I could bring someone with me to double date. I asked my roommate if she wanted to go and she said okay. So, we were on our way outside and I noticed that his roommate had gotten out of the car to let us in the back seat. Now, Liam Kennedy had told me long ago that a lady is ALWAYS supposed to sit in the front. It was the gentleman thing to put yourself in the back seat and allow the female to take the front seat. Well, this was what I thought the roommate was doing; so my friend got in the back seat and I waited for him to get in after her so that I would be up front with Marcel but Noooooooo. He just looked at me and said, "Are you getting in?" You know me, I blew up the spot screaming, "What the fuck are you talking about? You take the back seat, dude. I'm a fuckin' lady!" (not with that mouth! LOL!) but you know what I'm sayin'. Marcel, was on some super cool shit, "Shawty, get in the back seat or don't go!" I looked at him and said, "Fuck You! Come on girl, get out, let's go!" He was astounded! I don't think he expected that of me, so when I started walking back towards the dorm, he was out of the car screaming, "Shawty, stop playin' and come back!" I just flagged him and kept on going. Fuck that nigga, I thought. He ain't even worth it. So, several of those types of situations went on and he started to get the picture. I wasn't taking any shit but that's what, I think, attracted him to me in the first place. When I moved out the dorm and got an apartment, I began to see a lot more of him. He would often stay the night, cook for me and all kinds of stuff. I never had a guy cook for me before then so, that seemed like a special effort on his part. He used to let me drive his car to class sometimes. He had a Acura coupe so I was frontin' when I got the chance. I got that shit towed one day cause I parked in a bad spot and he wasn't even mad. I had come out of class to find the car up on the tow bed and I remember hollering and waving my arms for them to stop but they didn't see me. I was scared to go home that day but when I finally got up the courage to call, I spoke with my new roommate, Key Note, who also happened to be a childhood friend of mine, explained to her what had happened and asked her to tell him for me. He got on the phone and just laughed and told me to come home. I also remember one night when he came in and gave me $500 and said, "Go shopping with that Shawty and buy me something too." He had robbed someone that night and gave me part of the proceeds. It wasn't armed robbery. He went to make a drug deal go down and instead of passing off the drugs, he kept them and took the money from dude. I didn't care cause I was eatin' off that shit! There were no ties between me and them, what the fuck did I care? In the long run though, it caused me to withdraw from school cause I wasn't making any classes. I figured that I'd rather withdraw than fuck up my GPA. When everybody was leaving for class at 8:30am, me and Chanel and Key Note were usually just coming in from parties and shit. I wasn't in Baltimore doing what I was supposed to do and all the while, my grandmom was footin' the bill. Finally, she called and told me that I had to come home cause she wasn't going to pay for me to just live in Baltimore and do nothing. My phone bills were high because all my friends were in Philly and the car insurance was high cause I kept getting speeding tickets going up and down the highway, it was just time for me to leave. I was very sad about going because it was also, time for me to face reality. I wasn't ready to grow up for real. When I told Marcel, he looked at me and said, "It's gonna be okay. I might fuck around and come to Philly and we can look for an apartment together." I thought that was a nice gesture to help me feel better but I didn't believe him. I was still under the impression that niggas be bullshittin'. My first weekend home, I went to the Plateau with Camille and Chanel and flirted with the mens a little bit. I met this little guy with a BIG attitude that day but I'll elaborate on him later. Marcel had gotten me a $10,000 necklace for my birthday and a lot of guys would stop me and compliment me on it. I must say that neck piece was a man catcher. I was starting to feel better. I got a job at Prudential in Fort Washington, PA. The pay wasn't the greatest but it was my first job and I guess I half enjoyed it. Then one day I got a phone call from Marcel. He said that he was comin' to Philly so that we could look for apartments. My heart dropped! I had been going to visit him on the weekends and shit when I wanted to get away but I had dudes here in Philly. How could I jeopardize that? I got nervous because I didn't really know how to deny him of his wishes. I think I feared him emotionally. When he came up that weekend we looked at some places. We found a nice jawn on Germantown Avenue on the outskirts of Chestnut Hill. The ceilings were high and the windows were big. It was nice as shit. I really liked it. So, we put down a deposit and got ready to move in. His birthday fell on the weekend we were moving in, I'll never forget it. It was October the 30th..........he was turning 27. Camille went with me to get his cake and I remember her saying, "Damn, you got yourself an old man." I was only 19 at the time. Although, I must say, that I was very mature for my age; well that's what I thought at least. I got him a whole sheet cake, some crab legs, two bottles of champagne and some balloons. There wasn't any furniture in the apartment yet so I just set all the stuff up on the floor very nicely. I went to get him from the train station and we went back to the apartment. That night was lovely. We got drunk and ate crabs, then we fucked in every room of the apartment, with no blinds or anything in the windows. I was once again in love with him. I used to watch him sleep and everything. It sounds psychotic but he was so beautiful to me. More beautiful than I was to myself and then the arguments started. I had to be to work at 7:00am, so he would have me drop him off at the train station in order for him to go back to Baltimore and take care of his "business" during the day. The money down there was the truth! Mostly all of the drug dealers in Philly, at that time, sold coke. Baltimore niggas were gettin' it in with heroine. That was like 100 times more money than coke, they gave out more time for pushing heroine as well so most dudes weren't really willing to take the chance of getting caught with it. He felt like he had to go home to get his paper right and I wasn't complaining about it either. He would always come back with tens of thousands of dollars everyday. I remember one day, he got off the train with a duffle bag full of money! I'm not gonna lie, I got used to the money. I got SO used to the money that the arguments didn't matter. Me being miserable didn't matter and the unhappiness didn't matter; I had money but this nigga just started disrespecting me after a while. I decided to buy a car in January of 93'. He told me that I didn't have to worry about the payments because he would take care of them. I wasn't dumb though. When I went to get the car I made sure that one of my paychecks would be enough to cover the car note, just in case some shit went down. He paid all of the bills and my money was my money. That's what I'm talking about........carefree living. But that carefree living came with a price....I was miserable. You will never be able to pay someone enough money to take the misery away. Marcel talked to me any kind of way; he was just ignorant. One weekend we were supposed to go to the movies and dinner but he had to run to Baltimore to take care of something real fast. He left early in the morning and said that he would be back by 7:00pm. Of course, he took the car, I mean he was payin' for it but 7:00pm came and 7:00pm went. I paged him to see what was going on. I was all dressed and ready to go. I kinda hoped that he didn't call back cause he was on the highway or close by but unfortunately he wasn't. He called back and and I asked him where he was and the mutha fucka said, "Baltimore!" I was heated cause it was already 9:00pm so I knew that bitch wouldn't be back until well after 11:00pm but that was only if he was leaving right then. I said, "Why the fuck are you still there? You told me you would be back by 7:00pm!" and he gave me his famous line, "I don't have to explain anything to you. I'm a grown fuckin' man." He was always talkin' about he's a grown fuckin' man. I guess 8 years is a major difference at that age but it made me feel inferior to him. He always used to tell me I was fat and I was only 4'11" and 115 lbs. But I went on diet after diet for this guy. I was bent on pleasing him, even if that meant degrading myself. When I was in college and we were dating, he told me that if I wanted to maintain a relationship, that there were "certain" things that I had to be willing to do. This was the conversation that led me to sucking his dick. I got books and shit to learn how to do it. I was tryin' to keep this nigga to myself. I didn't want anybody else to do what I wasn't doing, so I did it all with the exception of that anal shit cause I just wasn't there yet. The first time I tried the oral sex act with him, I asked him how he rated my performance and he gave me a "so-so" type of "It was alright" type of comment. Me, being a perfectionist, was not so happy with that so I asked this gay guy that I was cool with for some pointers. He suggested that I go to the bookstore and purchase this book titled E.S.O. I'll never forget it! The E.S.O. stood for Extended Sexual Orgasms and it was this sort of guide for great sex. Man, oh, man did I study that book! I highlighted information in it and everything. The next time I made the oral sex attempt, I was so good at it that this mutha fucka looked at me and said, "Man, you did this shit before you fuckin liar!" Oh God! I had to pull that book out for him so he didn't think I was a slut......how embarrassing! I cooked for him and cleaned the house. I sucked his dick and washed his clothes. What else did he want from me? My soul probably cause this dude was the devil. He would have these really intense conversations with me regarding the way I dressed and wore my hair. He didn't like anything I did and for some odd reason I wanted to change all of that for him. I actually changed myself to please someone else and that is something that I will NEVER do again! It was me that he fell in love with; not the bitch he was trying to make me become. I became very depressed. My friends wouldn't really call the house too much because they didn't like him. Not to mention, it would cause arguments because he would think that they were calling me to tell me about some other nigga. Those were his personal insecurities but I didn't realize that at the time. My mom called me one day and asked if I had been brainwashed because I just wasn't myself lately. I even got my mom to hire this mutha fucka at her job because he was always whinin' about how he didn't want to be in the streets no more cause it was stressin' him out and then there was that night...... We were lying there in the bed and I had my back to him. I wasn't sleeping yet because I was mad from a prior argument we had. He said, "Shawty, are you sleep?" I said, "No!" with an attitude. He said, "I don't think that we should live together anymore. I still want to be with you but our living arrangements aren't working out. If you go back to your mom's you"ll be right around the corner so it won't be hard for us to see each other." I was floored! My heart was broken and to think after all I did for him. I snapped back almost immediately after that comment; the bitch he fell in love with was on her way back! I said to him, in a very nice tone, "If I move out, that's IT for me and you. In life, you can go from A to B but you can't go from B to A, that's just backwards. You best believe that if I go back to mommy's I'm not fuckin' wit you no more!" He tried to debate and argue his point but I just wasn't hearin' it. He wasn't sayin' that he changed his mind; he still wanted to be able to fuck probably. I don't know? But I was upset! Emotionally distraught is a better way to put it. The next day was terrible for me. I was mopin' around and shit at work. I felt like I wanted to cry every five minutes. I wasn't in the mood for any jokes or smiles. Shit, I was just fucked up! I moved my shit out that weekend and during that move he asked me, "What are we gonna do about the car?" I said, "We? What do you mean we? That car is in my fuckin' name so it's going with me." He said, "......but I've been paying for it since you got it." And I just looked at him and said, "I know....Thank You." And I left. I cried everyday and when I was just getting over the edge, Chanel called me at work. She said that she saw him outside talkin' to this young girl that lived near Camille. I was young at the time and she was even younger! She was only 17 and knowing that, hurt me. Chanel must have called me at work 10 times that day! Tellin' me this and that about the broad. I had had enough! To make a long story short I ended up beatin' the bitch's ass! Not for him but because she was talkin' shit about the situation like she was seein' him before we broke up. To me that was grounds for an ass kickin'. I'm the one who brought the nigga from Baltimore in the first place, everybody knew that! She knew who's man she was dealin' with! So, I beat the bitch up. Fucked up her face and everything. Come to find out.....that nut bitch was allergic to aloe and couldn't put anything on her face to help it heal faster and she was a really pretty girl so I was more than happy to hear about that shit. And you know this nigga had the nerve to call me and ask me why I did that to her? I told him, that I wanted the both of them to think about me as a couple; so when she looks in the mirror, she thinks about me and when he looked at her, he thought about me as well. Fuck them! That was my closure. I took a lot of pills during that period. It was the only thing that helped make my life easier at the time. I drank a lot and smoked a lot of weed. I was drowning myself in drugs to prevent from facing reality. That was a very hard period in my life but little did I know, that particular situation was not over. I was going through it at my mom's house. I hadn't been there in so many years that it was almost impossible for me to adapt to their bullshit again. So, I stayed out of the house as to not be bothered by my crazy, ass grandmother. I really tried to keep myself occupied so that I wouldn't be bombarded with these repeated thoughts of loneliness. And through all the stress, depression and drugs I must have lost about 15 lbs., which put me at an even 100 lbs. I had a broken heart. That is something that can't be fixed by a doctor.
Lesson: Never change yourself to please someone else! If the person cannot accept or love you for who you already are then they NEVER will!
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