Time passes by and a new year comes. I don't exactly remember how we spent it but it's probably better that I don't. Jonathan and I's relationship is a roller coaster to say the least. There are the occasions of a love I never knew existed outside of movies and romance novels.. like the time we went to an Ashanti concert at the fair grounds and it got boring so he lifted me up (as if carrying me over the threshold) and screamed "This woman just agreed to marry me!" All the way to the car, stopping only to shake the hands of old men and receive pats on the back. To the lows of the lows where we fight and argue about the things he has to do to "earn a name" for himself. The more he does, the quicker he moves up in "rank", the heavier the load for me to carry when he goes out. He hasn't hit me since that first day, just screams and pushes and breaks things around me. It isn't enough to make me leave, but then again I don't think anything would have been because one outburst meant 2 weeks of pristine behavior and "making it up to me". One night in hell meant two weeks in sheer bliss and that was a price I was willing to pay for love of this magnitude. The only thing wedging itself between us, aside from his gang, was my childhood. Those memories lurking in the dark crevices of my mind, throwing me back into my past and stealing moments of my present.
He's getting ready to leave to go on a mission. A big one, one that I can't even know about for the risk of me being questioned. Someone stole their meth and guns out of a safe, someone within their circle...that is all I've been able to piece together on my own. He walks over to give me a kiss on the cheek and I turn away.. "Just go, just leave." "Why do you do this every time Emily? Do you know the guilt I feel walking out that door knowing it may be the last time you see me and I didn't even kiss you goodbye? It trips me up, throws me off my game, I could get killed like that." I feel that wall going up.. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care I chant in my head. I sit there staring blankly at him. "Fine I'm not going, is that what you want?" He throws down his things. I stare at him, deliberately erasing all emotion from my face. But in my mind...in my mind I'm telling him what's wrong. "I'm scared" I say in my head. "I'm scared that this goodbye might be my last. I'm scared I'm loving someone who is only going to abandon me." In my head the conversation goes like this "But I'm not leaving you babe" "But it feels like you are, it feels like you are choosing a different life than one with me in it. I feel like I should stop caring before it's too late."
I am about 6 and me and my little sister are staring out the window. In my memory it is raining but I'm pretty sure I was just crying. We have been sitting here for quite some time. Before the sun went down. Waiting..waiting for him to come like he promised. My dad. It's been awhile since he's shown up for visits and when he does he hands us a new toy and leaves again. But we wait anyway. My sister can't be much older than 2. She starts to cry for my dad. I hate him. I hate him for leaving me here to take care of a baby. I hate having ice cream for breakfast, spam for lunch and shake and bake for dinner everyday. I hate having to take my sister to my aunt's to get her some milk. I hate that weird girl that dresses like a boy who is always in my mom's room as they pretend that I don't understand what's going on. I hate that she let's her friends hit me too. I hate him for not saving us, for only saving himself. I wipe the tears from my eyes. "Stop crying Nikki! He's not coming, he's NEVER coming! He doesn't want you! He never loved you! He chose a different life!" I scream in her face. Telling her what my mom tells me when I ask about my dad. I feel bad for it. "Just pretend you don't have a dad sissy" I say to her nicely. That's so hard to do. Our dad was our world, he was the object of my mom's hatred when he got home, instead of us. He was also our distraction. No matter what he was always happy. And now he was gone and we were the ones that paid, but did he care? No. "I don't have a dad" I told myself. In fact that was the answer I gave for years after.."my dad is dead" because it was better. It was better than admitting to myself that he chose a different life without me in it. It was just easier not to care at all than to face the idea that I just wasn't it worth it.
I am on Jonathan's bed again. He is just laying there staring at me . "I would love to see where you go when you disappear like that. What movie plays inside your head, like you said." He says "You remind me of my dad" is all I say. "But you don't like your dad" he says, clearly waiting for an explanation. "I know" I shrug it off and sit up. He doesn't move, he looks sad. "what's wrong?" I ask. "I wish you'd let me in, I wish could see the things that hurt you so bad." "You'd think they were stupid" He doesn't deny it. "It just scares me sometimes, sometimes I think you're not coming back." And leave you before you leave me, I think to myself.
"Don't you need to leave?" I ask "No, I'll just get checked tomorrow but I'm ******'s favorite so he'll choose people that can't fight" He falls asleep and I lay there thinking. There's that feeling again. I should be feeling proud, wanted, his choice. Instead I give into that nagging that this isn't my forever as much as I try to force it. The window is open and it's a full moon. I try and memorize the room, the layout, the posters, his face as he sleeps, the way he wraps one arm around my waist and keeps the other tucked under my head. I know one day these will be all I have of him, memories. I hold him tighter and fall asleep. He's gone in the morning.
*Originally written January 12th 2012
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