I waited until 4.47am before I rang him.
He answered the phone, husky toned and drunk.
He is a prick, I thought. A fucking prick.
I wanted us to be together tonight, I missed him.
He seemed amused by my phone call.
Could I not leave him alone at all, he wondered.
I would leave him all right.
Weeks after when he phoned, asking me where I had been, and whom I’d been with, I laughed and placed my phone on loudspeaker as my new boyfriend touched me.
Then he didn’t stop calling.
At first, I liked it.
I saw his number on my display and I had butterflies in my stomach.
He loved me, he needed me.
I was needed.
Then when he showed up at my front door, I still felt needed but also a bit concerned, would he stalk me now?
He spilled out some romance like a mail order.
His spirit was not complete without me holding it, maybe.
Weak, I let him in.
We made love.
Well, I made love.
He took love.
Then he stopped calling.
My new boyfriend stopped calling too, it turned out they were related.
At first, it hurt.
Then when he showed up at my front door, I felt needed, for abuse.
He too was abused, I kissed him goodbye, I shut the door, I lit a cigarette, I drank wine, I called my best friend, I laughed and I thought of the lie.
Then I laughed more before I went to sleep.
The next day I woke up and deleted his number.
Myne Whitman says
Well written, and powerful too. It's intricate, the workings of partner abuse.
Lyrix says
Deep.
Nana Yaw Asiedu says
Awww, wicked, wicked, game. Captured with so much of the rawness it must have brought. It sounds so real (not necessarily your story, though) that if it isn't, then you imagination is out of this world.
MsAfropolitan says
@ Myne, thank you!
@ Lyrix, thanks for checking by and commenting.
@ Nana, this was my imagination working. But then imagination is the shadow of reality…
Vickii says
Random but you look a lot like the girl in the image! Another great write-up – you have a way of capturing simply, complicated and intricate issues and relationships, I really like it! But would you call this sort of love, love? If it's abusive, I think it's a lot of things but not real love.
MsAfropolitan says
@ Vickii, I am the girl in the pic lol. I felt it suited the piece…
You got me wondering about real love. You know, I think if you are in love with someone but in an abusive relationship with them then it's not 'real', even though at the time it may seem so.
Hence real love is perhaps an objective thing?
Thanks for the feedback on my writing style!
Vickii says
Ha ha, I thought it was you at first and then I thought 'no, it's not Minna' lol, it's a great picture and definitely does suit the piece!
I definitely agree that love is subjective, even in non-abusive relationships. I have lots of friends who have truly believed they were in love with someone and then a while down the line (usually in the context of their new love), say it wasn't really love even though it felt like it at the time.
I guess its mystic is part what makes it so complicated and so sought after. After all, if it was a simple girl + hot guy = real love equation, everybody would have it and nobody would cherish it!
Talia says
Wow! I always admire people who can write poetry with such an intensity that you have done with this one. Beautifully well written and the words I have been feeling lately. Keep doing what you are doing.
Nii says
Hmmm that pic….It looks too real :)Surprised no one’s asked if this is a work of fiction or….??Anyway, rhetorical question, no response required 🙂 Enjoyed it.