Love Made Me Do It Read online

  I thought about him every day. Nevertheless, I never felt that it was safe to call him. My fiancé was watching me like a hawk. Until I just couldn’t take the separation anymore. My lover had my attention. Hell, he had my heart. I started calling him from work, the BART Station, even payphones at the grocery store.

  I met up with my lover on several occasions. Meeting up with him was definitely dangerous. But it was worth it just to see his face. Ironically, on the days that we did have an opportunity to see one another, my fiancé would inspect me. He would look to see if the back of my hair was matted down. He even wanted to inspect my panties. But what he really wanted; was for me to tell him what he already knew. My cheating was evident and obviously much more than just sex. I was happy with my lover and miserable with my fiancé. My lover invaded every inch of my being. My soul. My thoughts. He gave life to me.

  I spent countless hours mapping out, how I could see him without getting the shit beat out of me. I was home alone and didn’t have a clue where my fiancé went. The timing couldn’t be any more perfect. I called my lover and suggested that we have movie night. “I’m already dressed.” “I’ll meet you out front in 10 minutes.” That was all that needed to be said. I walked to the front of my complex and waited for my lover to pull up. I surveyed the area. I didn’t see my fiancé or anything suspicious. Finally, I would have the opportunity to relax.

  I heard my lovers car, before I seen it turn the corner. I stood closer to the curb and he pulled up and opened up my door. As soon as I sat down, my fiancé leaped out of yet another hiding place. The bushes. He wanted to fight me. Instead, my lover was ready to fight him. I was caught up, between my past and my future.

  Violence wouldn’t solve this situation. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I told my lover that I would be okay. I wanted to do whatever it took for my fiancé, to thoroughly understand that it was over. We needed to have a heart to heart. I needed to be honest about my feelings. He was belligerent and loud. I was ushered into the house. This was not going to go well.

  He hit me so hard in my throat that I gasped for air. Once again I was down on the ground. But this time I got back up. He put me in a backwards choke hold. Covering, my nose and mouth. He pinned me down to the ground. With his body weight anchoring me down, I started feeling dizzy. If I didn’t get away, he was going to kill me. The thought of dying gave me the strength I needed.

  I managed to reach the front door. He was right behind me. He grabbed the back of my shirt, making it rip from my body. But that didn’t stop me. I pushed thru the darkness like the devil was on my heels. I was calling out for help. A neighbor heard me and let me in. “Please, let me use your phone!”

  I was half naked from the waist up and out of breath. I covered up my chest and dialed my lover’s number. He answered. “Please bring me a tee shirt and meet me in the back.” A few minutes later, my lover was there. He hugged and held me. “Are you ok?” “I am now.”

  My lover made me feel so comfortable. He never asked what happened. But I’m sure he knew. I was thankful that he came and saved me. I didn’t have any concerns about my fiancé finding me. We ordered pizza and put in a movie. I was trying to put everything out of my head and relax.

  Then the phone rang, and rang, and rang a few more times. I loved the fact that he was so into me and not his phone. Then that damn phone rang one more time. This was the ring that was heard around the world.

  He jumped up to go get it. He listened for a moment, and then waved me to the phone. All I heard was my ex’s slurred speech thru what sounded like spit bubbles. “Do you love her?” “Are you with her right now?” Then he yelled “give me back my girl!”

  I wanted to laugh. Then I wanted to cry. I took the phone and hung it up. It commenced to ringing while we made love. I didn’t want my fiancé anymore. I had lost interest. He would just have to deal with it. It was okay when he cheated. But not when I did? How ironic.

  Do I attempt to rectify my relationship? Or do I further indulge in the possibility of a forever situation with my lover? I had a decision that needed to be made. I wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing that I was leaving so many loose ends. I decided the best thing to do was to figure out if my relationship could be fixed. If it couldn’t, then I needed to end it properly. So I stopped everything.

  I stopped calling my lover. I stopped seeing my lover, and I stopped all my emotions towards my lover. I went back to a mediocre existence. I worked and came home. My main focus point was repairing my relationship. My fiancé really tried to play his part too. He got a job, made some better friends and curbed his alcohol intake. I loved him enough to give him this opportunity. But truthfully I was scared of him. I was scared that if I did anything wrong he might kill me.

  Although our mission to reconnect had been a mutual goal, something was missing. There was no love. That had been replaced with fear. It was a complacent existence. I was just going along, so that no one would be hurt. Physically or mentally. I did my best to play nice, but every second I dreamed of my lover coming to rescue me.

  Months went by and I continued to ignore calls and pages from my lover. Until, right before New Year’s Eve 1999. Our house phone rang with a call from an unknown caller. I picked up and I heard is voice. “Can you talk?” “I can’t stop thinking about you.” I gasped for air, with my heart pounding. I replied. “I’ll call you later.” It was back on. I was going to make sure, that it had a better beginning than before.

  I reflected for a whole week, before I decided to have the conversation with my fiancé. At dinner I told him he should move on. I would give him no more than a month to get everything together and leave. He said ok. A few days went by; we didn’t speak, sleep or eat together. It was nice. But really eerie. I couldn’t read him. Literally, I was counting down the days until my fiancé would be out of my life.

  I had recently picked up extra hours, mostly on Saturday’s, to keep myself out of the house. This Saturday would be like no other. I came home happy. I had plans with my lover later that day. I just needed to stop at home first.

  Walking up to the front door of my apartment, I noticed that something was off. My front door was slightly ajar. I nudged it open with my foot and what a sight I seen. My fiancé was lounging in the recliner, in his boxers. He looked like a deranged maniac. I gave a simple smile; “Bitch I feel like killing you.” Was his response.

  I dragged the house phone to the porch and called my sister. I was going to need somewhere to sleep for the night. She didn’t answer. I knew all too well, that he was dangerous. This wouldn’t be a fair match no matter what. So I left. I went to my neighbor’s house…the pastor and his wife. Hopefully their house could be a temporary safe haven. They fed me and prayed for my situation.

  Nightfall was upon us and I decided that it was safe to go home. Walking down the pathway to my apartment, I seen Fire Marshalls, E.M.T’s and Police Officers! Shaking my head I was terrified to see what lie on the other side of my front door. Every bit of clothing that I owned had been doused with a bottle of Christian Brothers Cognac and lit on fire. What used to be my living room was now an extinguished bon fire.

  Smoke damage every-where, with a gaping hole in the living room floor. Everything was either covered in soot or burned to a crisp. I stepped out looking towards the parking lot, and saw my fiancé. Partially dressed in the back of the ambulance, I kept thinking I was dreaming.

  My first apartment on my own, up in smoke literally… My sanity was on the brink of destruction. All the material items that burned weren’t my concern. Following my heart was.

  Talking with the police officers, I realized that they were just as clueless as I was. They said they would charge him with arson and I would be notified prior to his release from the local jail. Three days later he was out. All charges dropped. I received an automated call advising me that he was released. My heart dropped. I was petrified wondering what would happen next.

  Those three days I had spent cleaning, scrubbing an
d trying to figure out what I was going to wear to work. Since everything I owned was now gone. He didn’t come back to our charbroiled apartment immediately. So I just waited, and waited. On that 2nd night after his release, I heard the faintest cry around 1:30 in the morning. I looked out my bedroom window and didn’t see anything. Then I looked out the kitchen window still nothing or anyone in sight…then I looked onto the patio and there he was crying his eyes out.

  The smell of liquor was so pungent it seeped into the house thru the sliding glass door. What I used to feel towards him had vacated. I couldn’t even imagine ever being turned on by him. The sight of him made me sick.

  He made me wish things that you should never wish on anyone, not even an enemy. I told him to get the fuck off of my patio. He slithered off that patio into the night, wearing a withered pair of hospital scrubs. The next day I put his belongings in a box. Called his mama and asked her to come get his shit. She was also tired of him and I damn sure was tired of him.

  This relationship had run its course. Everything was devalued and deflated. Especially me. His alcoholism took over his rationale and our relationship. I refused to be destroyed any further. As if it couldn’t get any worse. I came home from shopping to a three day eviction notice on my door.

  I tried to clean up and really get things back together without anyone being too suspicious of what had taken place. But seriously, there was a big gaping burnt hole in the center of my living room. I took my eviction notice with a grain of salt. My life was fucked up. I prayed every night for peace of mind.

  My lover seemed to be the only way out of this hell that I was still in. Forced out of my apartment, due to my fiancés; lack of control. That was my very first everything on my own, and I lost it. His addiction became my problem too. Luckily I was able to move right into a small studio apartment.

  CHAPTER 2

  AFTER THE SMOKE CLEARED

  The first few days I didn’t feel comfortable in my new spot so I stayed with my lover. He caressed me at night time when I would talk in my sleep. He soothed my night terrors. He checked my fiancé every time his drunken ass called. His affection never towards me never wavered. I never had to be anyone other than who I was. I was a damsel in distress and he was my knight in shining amour.

  My lover and I spent many nights talking; it was so nostalgic and endearing. Those talks meant the world to me. They were open, honest, and full of everything that a wounded soul needed. My lover said that I was the type of woman that would make him clean out his closet and settle down.

  On a crisp winter night…Not really cold but the air has a slight chill to it. We lie amerced in a magical moment. We were savoring the taste of our new love and each other. We were smitten beyond belief. Then, slowly a new hell began to unravel.

  My lover woke up and ran into the living room. I stayed in the bedroom hoping that whatever the commotion he heard was just a stray cat. But of course a stray cat would have been an easy fix. You stomp your foot and the cat will scurry away. But an Ex-Girlfriend who has broken into your house is a little harder to get rid of.

  A woman who is scorned has sharper claws than an alley cat. I peeked out of the bedroom and seen an attractive woman being ushered by force, out into the backyard. She wanted to see me, wanted to see who took her place. Who lie in his bed? Who kept him intrigued like a love sick little boy. It was me and little did she know that I had no intentions on leaving.

  Her unwanted entrance had no effect on me but I saw that it was affecting him. I lie awake that night wondering if all of this was a mistake. I would wait until he brought the situation up to me…To determine an infinite answer. He picked me up from my house a few days later and said that we needed to talk.

  We sat there in the same dining room where we met and we talked. We talked about what we meant to each other. We talked about how he grew up. I listened as he told me family secrets. How we grew up was an essential ingredient to our failed relationship. There was a lot of dysfunction on both sides.

  It felt good for my lover to open up to me about such personal things in his life. We were establishing trust. He also went on to tell me how his sister had a bad drug problem and that’s how his mom wound up raising her children. Including, the one that was conceived with his father.

  It was a lot of information to take in. But I was more than happy to take any burden off of this man after all he has already done for me. We also talked about the intruder from the other night. He said that she was crazy and that they had been over. He no longer wanted to be with her, but she didn’t get the hint. My lover even showed me where her name was in his phone book, and how it was now scratched out. I told him that I understood and I believed him. Which I did, there was no reason for me to think otherwise.

  Our comfort level continued to grow. Every time we were apart I could only think of him. I don’t think that my heart ever experienced such a profound feeling of love. It was love in the rawest form. Then it happened… He said it, those three little words. That make your heart skip a beat and your legs tremble… “I love you.” Never had those words sounded sweeter than when they parted from his lips.

  Jokingly, he said that he should take me to Reno and marry me so that I knew he was serious. It was that emotion that I felt like I had searched for my entire life. Knowing that one person was yours. That they belonged to you, I felt like my lover was really mine.

  Often women will look for signs in a relationship that you are the only one and I was no different. I needed that validation in order to continue to be with him. The 1st of many validations of “his love” came the day he told me I could stay in the bed while he went to work. He trusted me enough to stay at his house alone. I couldn’t wait for him to leave so I could begin looking around. Looking for clues and making sure no other woman was in my territory.

  I looked around. I opened drawers, emptied pants pockets. I didn’t find anything in the places I looked. Then the phone rang. I let the answering machine pick up. The voice that began speaking was so sexy, confident and demanding. It was her. It was his ex.

  “I just wanted to know if we were still on for lunch today.” I was on the edge of his bed listening wondering, what do I do? So I picked up the phone…“Hello?” She hung up. I tried to *69 her back but the number was restricted. I found his phone book where her number had been scratched out and tried to make out the number. But I couldn’t. Eventually, I found a phone bill and determined her number by eliminating other numbers. That I knew weren’t hers. I finally found her number on the 4th page of an 8th page phone bill.

  I dialed that number with so much emotion, that I had to keep redialing because I was missing the actual numbers. As soon as I heard her voice, “He ain’t going to lunch with you today, or any other day.” “Matter of fact I’m in his bed right now,” then I hung up. The phone rang again. This time when the answering machine picked up; the voice I heard was his. He was not happy at all. Fuck!

  It was apparent that they still felt some type of way about one another. Whether it was lover or not, was still to be determined. My only job was to prove that I was the keeper. Obviously, he was pissed. “Pick up this damn phone. “I know your right there Johnson pick that phone up.” I picked up like I had run to the phone…”Hello, yes….what?” “Yes, we can talk about it when you get home.” That was the end of that conversation.

  I would just wait until he came home. But in the meantime I was going to continue to look around. Obviously he hadn’t totally gotten rid of her completely. Now I needed to see if any other women were still present and accounted for. I searched high and low until I was literally sweating. The last search proved to be very lucrative.

  I found some unmarked VHS tapes. I watched them all one by one. The 5th tape I watched was the jackpot. My lover was on tape with a very large, very dark woman. It was three of them her, him and his cousin. They were taking turns having sex with this woman. I put the tape into slow motion so that I could determine the time frame of when this took place
. After half an hour of pausing, stopping and rewinding, I noticed a calendar in the background. I was able to see the date. It was about a year or so before he knew me. Perfect!

  I could care less what he did prior to knowing me. Even though that was a prelude, as to what was to come between me and him. So now I had this tape. I would use the tape to derail his anger, about the phone conversations from earlier.

  Finally, I heard him come home. My heart was beating so fast. I thought he would be able to hear it. Here goes nothing, but at the same time here goes everything. I was ready for his questions, lies and accusations. But would he be ready for what I had for him? I doubt it. “Why did you call her?” I said “Why were you having lunch with her today?” He paused. Then I said “Oh yeah, I found this today too.” “Care to explain?”

  I pulled the tape out and popped it into the VCR. I stretched out at the head of the bed in my boy short’s. I was going to make it impossible for him to resist me, even in the heat of an argument. I had the remote in my hand, all the while I am thinking please lover give me a valid reason to trust and believe whatever you say. But if I didn’t believe him, pressing play will be my only pleasure. I pressed play.

  While I was replaying his sexual encounter, he ran out of the room and into the parking garage….Typical man, no ability to explain or defend his actions. When he finally came back into the house we just laughed and laughed! He knew I was a little crazy. But he also knew that I loved him…he said “Only crazy girls have the best pussy and are the most loyal,” “What am I going to do with you?" I replied "Love me the right way, or else.” He may have been laughing, but I wasn’t. I was keeping mental notes on my lover as his actions.