Excerpt of Loved by a Savage
Have you heard the tale, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf?” Well, I’m just like him. I was like that boy who cried wolf over and over again, letting people come to his false rescue. He cried wolf so much until nobody believed his ass when he really needed the help. The thing is, my rescue was never fake. I needed to be saved every time. Everyone knew. I didn’t keep what went on in my relationship a secret. I was open about everything- the good, the bad, the ugly, and the crusty. I wanted everyone to know in case shit went down, they knew who to point the finger at, but I guess at this point, the finger is pointed at me.
This shit is fucked up. Got my ass sitting in this cramped ass bathtub filled with lukewarm water. I was fully dressed wearing a pair of old jeans and an oversized short sleeved shirt. I held one of the sharpest razor blades I could get my desperate hands on. Now, I’m just like Hannah Baker from 13 Reasons Why, except I wasn’t being bullied and I didn’t go through the trouble to record tapes about why I slit own my wrists.
There was no other way out for me anymore. Family, friends, and even random people I would vent to tried to help me out of this toxic relationship. I took the help a few times, but ended right back where I didn’t belong. Instead of staying away, I made excuses as to why I went back to live life with the Devil and even defended him over and over again.
Foolishly, I set up my own demise and this is all I knew to get out of it. At this point, even if I tried to fix this on my own, I still wouldn’t be able to get out fast enough. My choices were staying trapped in his manipulative force until he got tired of me or to put myself out of my mystery now. Maybe I was being selfish, but I just couldn’t take what I chose to put myself through any longer. I couldn’t even blame him anymore. Even if others did, I didn’t. Why? Because I allowed him to do the things he did. At least, I’m able to own it. Some people would rather point blame at other people instead of looking at their own part in the turmoil that surrounds them. Not only did I blame myself, but I was no longer fighting with the flesh- his flesh. I know there’s something bigger that goes beyond any man that would make him do what he did to me. Something evil lurked and I couldn’t win that battle, no matter what.
Water slowly dripped from the faucet reminding me why I sat in this tub. Warm tears streamed down my numb cheeks as I shifted around. A brown roach with beady eyes stopped on the counter. It looked at me before crawling swiftly into the large hole in the wall next to the bathroom door from where it got kicked in by Satan himself. The large clock hanging on the bathroom wall let me know I was crying for almost two hours thinking about my fucked up life and what brought me to this point.
I wasn’t crying because I was scared. I wasn’t crying because I didn’t want to slit my wrists and bleed out in this tub filled with water and tears. I cried because I actually wanted to do it. Most people who attempt suicide cry because they really don’t want to kill themselves or because they feel guilt or shame. For me, this was the only way I could fix my life- by being done with it. I needed to do this.
Nothing else mattered because my current situation was all I had. My family and the few friends I had stopped dealing with me over the same decisions I made over and over again. When decisions were made, I didn’t know they were dumb nor did I know it would send my life spiraling out of control. Most importantly, I hadn’t the slightest clue how it would affect others around me. Blindly, I didn’t know that I was destroying myself with each choice.
Moves were made at first because my heart told me to choose love. Following my heart soon turned into being manipulated. Being manipulated manifested into stupidity. Stupidity bled into trying to fix my life on my own, but it was too late. My life spiralled out of control so much, there was no repairing on my own. Though determined, I kept trying relentlessly, but nothing good came from it. Instead, his manipulative ways were too powerful and sucked me right back in over and over until eventually, I lost it all.
I tried with everything I had to fix this-to get back to where I was before I jumped into this dangerous relationship. Every time I tried, I lost something else. Eventually, my money, my house, my car, my dignity, my self-esteem, my confidence was all gone. Hell, I even lost my kids. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about shit, but what he got out of the situation.
As my life quickly spiraled out of control, I felt like I was drowning in an ocean. At first, I could handle the current, but eventually the current became stronger. I could no longer fight it, though I still tried. After so much effort, I weakened and surrendered to what surrounded me, forcing me to drown at the bottom. Me surrendering is me in this small stuffy outdated bathroom staring at the dirty wallpaper that’s peeling in the corners trying to piece together what brought me to this point before I end what should have been a blessing to me-life.
When I was a kid, I used to hear my mother constantly repeat Ephesians 6:12. I sank lower in the uncomfortable tub and said the verse out loud, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”
She used to say that passage with fear behind each word as she wept several times a day some days in order to forgive my abusive father. I used to hear her from the vents in our compact two bedroom apartment. Because I was so young, five at the time, I didn’t understand why she said it so often. I just figured she was really religious. Little did I know, she was coping. She repeated it so much, I learned it. Once I learned it, I would whisper it to myself when I heard her cry through the vents.
Living a similar cycle that my mother lived, I understood that that was her way of convincing herself that my father beating her ass wasn’t his fault. It was whatever evil spirit that possessed him that was responsible for the bruises he put all over her body. She lived in that violent cycle for eleven years until he finally got what he deserved. He had a sudden heart attack one night when he was in the middle of beating her like a disobedient slave. I guess cycles repeat themselves because now I’m living the same thing and now I’m going to end this vicious cycle, today.
“Man, these dudes are so wack and disrespectful!” My phone was blowing up with notifications from guys that were trying to smell my panties. My inbox was filled with anything from, When you gon’ let me come kick it with you? to Do you like to fuck? Anything goes in 2013, apparently. It was so frustrating because all I wanted was someone I could talk to. Hell, I’d even talk to a female and make a new friend, but this was a dating app, so even they would come at me sideways.
I was already in a good relationship, so I shouldn’t have been on there in the first place, even if it was just to talk. But our relationship grew so dull and bland over the years. I was bored out of my ass. Craig spent an abundant amount of his time working. He was a film director on popular demand. When he was around, he was very predictable. I mean so predictable, I knew exactly when he was going to take a shit. It was funny at first knowing his every move, but it got old real quick!
He kissed me the same way, did the same boring moves in the bedroom, spoke about the same topics everyday, sat the same way, ate the same food, and bought the same stuff from the same store every time. For a moment, I convinced myself that he was a clone. Nobody acts that routine. He was like a robot. It was borderline creepy.
We did that dance for the longest seven years of my life. Because I wasn’t getting the attention I needed from him, I went ahead and signed up for one of those popular dating sites. I had no idea it was more than just a dating site. It was a damn gateway site. It opened the doors to unlimited possibilities. Like I said, I just wanted someone to talk to. Apparently, I should have phoned a friend. Too bad, I didn’t have many of those, either.
Another notification buzzed through my phone, but this one was different. It wasn’t the usual, Let’s not get to know each other and just jump straight into sex message. It was a simple, Hey, ma.
After reading his normal message, I had to judge him by looking at his picture and whatever other information he had listed on his profile. His name was Javion. He was a thirty-six year old man with a tapered curly haircut. He had a nice caramel complexion with green eyes to match. His smile showed off his perfect teeth, leaving me intrigued.
Hey, how are you? was my response. More messages from more fuck boys came pouring into my inbox. I needed a break from all the foolishness, so I stopped opening them. They were all the same even if they were from different guys all over Atlanta. I didn’t know real conversation was this hard to find. Shit, I didn’t think it was too much to ask. My brain yearned for another person’s intellect. A lot of people I encountered were so basic. Always talking about the unimportant- what happened on last night’s reality show, the new lipstick they just bought, the type of hair they have glued on their head, work, sports, and clothes. I wanted to talk about anything but that stuff.
A notification from Javion came through: I’m good now that you’ve responded. What are you up to?
Immediately, I messaged him back: Boredom lol
Craig was going to be in New York for the next two weeks putting a film together so, it was just me and the kids. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, but there’s only so much conversation about Spongebob and Doc McStuffins I could take. They were good kids, but like most children, they had their moments where they wouldn’t get along. They had their constant disagreements about who was playing with this toy first and who gets to watch what show next. It was too much sometimes and everyone was entitled to a break. Because I didn’t have to work, a break was much deserved.
Javion sent another message: You and me both. Call me. We can have a conversation about anything. Lol 404-555-4356.
He had me at conversation. That’s all I wanted. It was just innocent conversation. If the conversation was good enough, we’d talk on the phone and text here and there. That’s it. No harm, no foul. I sat Indian-style on my large bed not giving what I was getting myself into a second thought. I just reacted.
I was so desperate to talk to someone other than my kids and my absent counterpart, I didn’t even hesitate to dial his number. The numbers quickly came to life as I pressed each one. I ignored any type of code that said I was supposed to wait a certain period of time to call someone after they gave you their number. Wondering if his voice sounded as sexy as he looked, I waited for him to answer.
It did. His voice was deep and mysterious. Lawd! All he said was, “Hello?”
I tried matching his sexy tone, so I softened my voice, “Hey, is this Javion?”
“Yeah. Is this Rhiana?”
“Well, it’s a good thing it is because you would have ruined your only chance with me by calling me some other woman’s name.” I giggled.
Javion chuckled, “Luckily for me, I don’t give my number out to everyone. Besides, it was a good guess. You called before I even hit send.”
This dude had jokes. “Oh, such an exaggeration. How could I call you before you hit send if I didn’t have your number before that? You threw your number at me quicker than a woman throwing her panties on stage at a Prince concert.”
“Ok. Ok. You got me. I had to. Your pictures are so beautiful. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my eyelids. Such a corny line, but it was sweet. “Aw, thanks! So, what are you doing besides stalking chicks on the internet?”
“Stalking chicks in my neighborhood. No, I’m joking. I just got off work about an hour ago.”
So, he was fine as hell, sounded sexy, had a sense of humor, and a job. I was counting the good qualities I came across already. So far, so good. Again, not that it mattered because it was just innocent conversation.
“So, where do you work, at a comedy club? You have hella jokes over there!” I couldn’t get the smile off my face.
“Nah. I’m a paralegal.”
“So, do you work? Tell me more about Miss Rhiana.”
I sighed. This was the part of getting to know someone I hated. People were judgemental and I didn’t like being judged, but I was an open person so, I told him anyway.
“I’m a stay-at-home mother of two. I’m in the process of getting my Bachelor’s in Business Administration, and I’ve been in a relationship for seven years. Now, you can’t just leave me at paralegal. It’s your turn to tell me some things about yourself.”
“Ok, cool. I have two kids and just got out of a bad relationship a few months ago. She cheated on me a few times, so I had to let her go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How long were you two together?”
He did the math out loud, “Almost two years.”
“Damn. Are your kids with her?”
“Nah. Thank goodness. We actually tried to have a baby. She even had me thinking she was pregnant, but I found out through her friend that her tubes were tied years ago.”
“Yikes! She hit you with the fake pregnancy, huh?”
“Hell yeah she did. Right after she cheated on me the first time, I was going to leave her. Then, she said she was pregnant so, I tried to do the right thing.”
“Well, a round of applause for you trying to be a standup guy. Some dudes would have still left.”
“Yeah. They would have. So, how old are you, Rhiana?”
“Twenty-nine. How old are you?”
“Not too much older than you. I’m thirty-six.”
“Ok. You’re not elderly. I’m ok with conversation, but I’m not trying to be talking about old man diapers and tapioca.”
Javion laughed once again. “And you talk about me with the jokes!”
“Hey, I’m just saying! Listen, I have to get my kids situated so, I’m going to get off the phone. It was great talking with you, Javion.”
“The pleasure was mine. Do you mind if we keep in touch?”
My smile was a big as a kid in a candy store. “Of course!”
“A’ight, cool. I’ll hit you back a little later.”
“Bye, pretty lady.”
The smile I wore during that whole conversation was still on my face as I tossed my phone on the bed and stared at it. I sat there thinking about how I enjoyed that brief conversation. Not only had I not spoken to anyone like that in years, but I hadn’t smiled like that in quite some time. My mind was playing back what we were talking about. I included him being a standup guy with the other good qualities he had. And just like that, I was hooked.
Want more? Click for your copy!