I finally make it “home” and was there all of 3 days before we get into fight. I honestly don’t even remember why we were fighting, I was probably being needy, tired of asking him to spend quality time with me (because that’s my love language). He left one night, didn’t come home.
I’m sitting up, pissed, like it’s 4am where THEEEE hell is this man? He better be dead, cuz if he ain’t dead imma kill’em. I drift off to sleep, nekkid. <– Important detail.
He comes in at some point in the night/am, but even though I hear him come in I don’t even pretend to acknowledge his presence. *fake sleeps* until I fall asleep again.
I wake up the next day, still naked, I shuffle to the bathroom. I notice flowers on the nightstand, I roll my eyes and conserve my anger for when he wakes up. I’ve noticed that his phone keeps going off repeatedly. The one time he answered, he muffles some inaudible words and all I can really make out is that it has something to do with picking his daughter up from his mama’s house for a wedding.
While I’m in the bathroom, his phone goes off again, and next thing I know I hear banging on the front door. At this point I have nothing but question marks over my head. It was early in the morning so I was thinking none of his friends would have a reason to come over so early or be knocking so hard at the door.
Next thing I know, I hear him answer the door and then a commotion. I’m not sure if I thought we were being robbed or if my subconscious mind knew that it was time to open a can of whoop ass. I put my contacts in (because I’m blind as a bat without them) and I flung that bathroom door open and next thing I knew I was being attacked.
Butt. Ass. Naked.
At some point it registered to me who I was actually fighting, but initially she was just a punching bag. And I remember thinking, damn, he’s really not gonna intervene? Not that I was the one that needed the help, and eventually he kicked her outside of the front door. But my point is, I watched the man I loved, not even pretend to protect me.
The feelings of betrayal, deceit, disbelief, etc. set in after that day. All I felt that day was adrenaline and anger. It actually got a lot worse, but I’ll save that for another story. The important thing is I won the fight. I don’t know how because best believe if I’m fighting a b*tch butt nekkid, I ain’t fighting fair. I’m twisting nipples, ripping out piercings and giving a whole new meaning to kicking ass.
I’m kidding, the important thing wasn’t about winning, it was about having my eyes peeled open to see the truth. And that was how I started my new life, in a new city…