"So you don't think i'm good enough, that's what you're trying to say " I shifted in the bed. "No no way i'm not saying that at all bae,What i'm saying is you're not good enough for me ."
I stared at him as my mind tried it's hardest to understand exactly what he was saying. Yea he was speaking English but in my mind it wasn't translating as such. I sat up in the bed without breaking my stare. “So you just now figuring this out? Four years of being together and you just came to this conclusion I’m not good enough for you?” I shook my head in disbelief as i felt my feet getting warm. “ I was good enough for you when you needed a place to stay. I was good enough for you when I cosigned on the accura you wanted. I was good enough for you when I had to take up the payments to a car you wouldn't even let me drive . But now all of sudden I’m not good enough.”
I continued talking through my blurred vision "I should have seen this coming I swear I should have. I was good enough for you to release yourself inside of me but I wasn't good enough to have your baby. You sat by and let them snatch life from me because it wasn't what you wanted. Did you give a damn about how i felt? How I couldn't sleep? How a year later I still think of how my life would have been if I stood up to you and decided to keep it. I didn't even go to my sister's baby shower because it was suppose to be me having one, ..Me! Do you know how hard it is to live with that guilt. Who was I to let you persuade me this baby didn't deserve a chance. Huh ?!" I felt my voice tremble as my whole entire body was now warm. I felt a tingling in my head. I felt my leg shaking. I was angry and I couldn't cool myself down. “ WHO ARE YOU TO DECIDE??” I asked matter of factly. I cried out not knowing what else to do.
Truth was for years I felt I wasn't good enough for years I battled with self worth. I second guessed myself every chance I had. But to actually hear someone else say I wasn't good enough. The sharp pain I felt in my heart was to my guess what it felt like to have a dagger stuck through it. I continued to sob with my head in my hands waiting to feel his embrace but instead I heard the back door open and slam shut. I heard his car engine rev up I heard his tires kick up the gravel from the driveway. I cried harder. I cried louder. I screamed until it was hard for me to breath. I got up off of the bed and ran toward the bathroom. I searched frantically opening my drawers and cabinets until I found it. I broke the plastic off of my hair cutting razor comb and removed the blade. I turned my left forearm over and drug the blade over my flesh. “Ahhh” I said through clinched teeth. I went about a half inch higher and did it again. “ zzaahh” I said again as I drug the razor a little deeper from left to right. I watched as the blood puddle formed on my arm and began to drip down the sides.
I wasn't trying to kill myself. Cutting seemed to have relieved my pain. My mental that is. Cutting took my focus off of my mental pain and turned it into physical. Cutting for me was an outlet, a way for me to control my emotions. Cutting was my escape. I sat there for a couple more minutes allowing the stinging of my arm to run its course. I closed my eyes and welcomed the pain. I would have chosen physical pain over mental pain over and over again. Physical I could get over. I could get a black eye and three weeks later I could look in the mirror and it'll be gone the pain would be gone. Nothing would be left but the thought of the pain. Oh yea I remember I had a black eye and it hurt when I got it but I wouldn't still be in pain.
With mental pain, Man that type of pain hung around for years and years! The words someone spewed at me,every time I thought of it, the same pain I felt when they said it would come back. I would feel the same type of hurt. The same type of uselessness. That pain wouldn't go away unless you conquered it mentally. And Mentally I couldn't so cutting took me away from that dark place of pain and put me in a pain that made sense to me. I grabbed a couple of paper towels off the counter and applied pressure to my arm to stop the bleeding. After about three or four minutes the bleeding stopped. I threw the paper towels into the miniature trash can by the sink and washed my hands. I walked over to my closet and grabbed some gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. I put it on, grabbed my cellphone and car keys slid my feet into my nike slides and headed out the door.
Once in my car I put Rihanna’s “Needed Me” song on repeated and drove around without a destination. I thought about driving around trying to find him. I thought about waiting at his mother's house for him to get there and hitting him with my car when he did. Heck I even thought about running him off the bridge on his way to work in the morning. But all of that would have gotten me where. No damn where but on the run, in jail ,or if I didn't hit the brakes quick enough, over the bridge with him. I quickly decided it wasnt worth it. Besides I couldnt swim anyway. I drove around for almost two hours until I found myself infront of my grandmother’s house. I took the keys out of the ignition, jogged up the stairs and turned the knob. I was instantly hit with the smell of apples and cinammon in the air.
“Grandma” I yelled into the emptiness. “Grandma” I yelled a little louder. “I’m in the kitchen.” I walked through the living room and dining room to find my grandma in the kitchen covered in flour. I laughed at the sight. “Hey grandma Lottie” I said kissing her on her cheek. “What brings you on this side of town baby” she asked kneading the dough. “Nothing just wanted to come and say hey!”
“Well good perfect timing you can help me with this peach cobbler I gotta make for service tonight” I asked no questions. I went straight over to the sink washed my hands grabbed a paring knife and began slicing the peaches. “Grammy you got it smelling soooo good in here.” Helping my Grandma bake was sooo soothing. It took me back to the time when I had pigtails in my hair and mary jane shoes on my feet. Baking with her made the problems of the world seem soo small. So irrelvant. So .. unimportant. “ I see you back to cutting yourself “ I quickly pulled my arm back . ”Aint no need to hide it baby, whats going on?” I shook my head no “Nothing Grandma Lottie” she stopped what she was doing and looked at me over the rim of her glasses “Mi-Mi” hearing her call me that made me feel like a little kid again. Made me feel INVINCIBLE.
I inhaled deeply and let it all out. “He told me I wasn't good enough for him, Grammy.. After all i did for him after all the sacrifices I made for him. It meant absolutely nothing to him!” “You listen to me right now you dont ever give a man enough power over you to the point where you harm yourself. Where you cut yourself. You dont ever give him the power to make you second guess your worth. HE DIDNT CREATE YOU SO WHY ARE YOU GIVING HIM THE POWER TO BREAK YOU.. LOOK AT ME WHEN IM TALKING TO YOU. I placed the paring knife down and focused in on Grammy. “Child when you were younger you wrote one of them little poems. What they called?” “A Haiku” I smiled. “Yea a Haiku, I remember it made it in a readers digest book that went across the country. I told your momma back then you had a gift like no other. So I’m telling you this now. You pick up a pen and a piece of paper or whatever you have to write on at the moment, and you write. You write whatever comes to your mind. You write your pain away. Baby you write until you feel better. GOD gave you that gift for a reason and its bout time you use it. So put that blade down and pick up that pen.”
When I got home that night my mind was crowded. I had a heaviness on my heart crying wouldn’t get rid of. I got up to go to the bathroom but stopped as I walked pass my dresser. A pen was sitting on top of my light bill envelope. I picked it up and sat down on the edge of the bed. I began to write. I wrote through my sadness, I wrote through my joy, I wrote until I couldn’t write anymore and than I wrote some more... and the rest was history “
I stared at him as my mind tried it's hardest to understand exactly what he was saying. Yea he was speaking English but in my mind it wasn't translating as such. I sat up in the bed without breaking my stare. “So you just now figuring this out? Four years of being together and you just came to this conclusion I’m not good enough for you?” I shook my head in disbelief as i felt my feet getting warm. “ I was good enough for you when you needed a place to stay. I was good enough for you when I cosigned on the accura you wanted. I was good enough for you when I had to take up the payments to a car you wouldn't even let me drive . But now all of sudden I’m not good enough.”
I continued talking through my blurred vision "I should have seen this coming I swear I should have. I was good enough for you to release yourself inside of me but I wasn't good enough to have your baby. You sat by and let them snatch life from me because it wasn't what you wanted. Did you give a damn about how i felt? How I couldn't sleep? How a year later I still think of how my life would have been if I stood up to you and decided to keep it. I didn't even go to my sister's baby shower because it was suppose to be me having one, ..Me! Do you know how hard it is to live with that guilt. Who was I to let you persuade me this baby didn't deserve a chance. Huh ?!" I felt my voice tremble as my whole entire body was now warm. I felt a tingling in my head. I felt my leg shaking. I was angry and I couldn't cool myself down. “ WHO ARE YOU TO DECIDE??” I asked matter of factly. I cried out not knowing what else to do.
Truth was for years I felt I wasn't good enough for years I battled with self worth. I second guessed myself every chance I had. But to actually hear someone else say I wasn't good enough. The sharp pain I felt in my heart was to my guess what it felt like to have a dagger stuck through it. I continued to sob with my head in my hands waiting to feel his embrace but instead I heard the back door open and slam shut. I heard his car engine rev up I heard his tires kick up the gravel from the driveway. I cried harder. I cried louder. I screamed until it was hard for me to breath. I got up off of the bed and ran toward the bathroom. I searched frantically opening my drawers and cabinets until I found it. I broke the plastic off of my hair cutting razor comb and removed the blade. I turned my left forearm over and drug the blade over my flesh. “Ahhh” I said through clinched teeth. I went about a half inch higher and did it again. “ zzaahh” I said again as I drug the razor a little deeper from left to right. I watched as the blood puddle formed on my arm and began to drip down the sides.
I wasn't trying to kill myself. Cutting seemed to have relieved my pain. My mental that is. Cutting took my focus off of my mental pain and turned it into physical. Cutting for me was an outlet, a way for me to control my emotions. Cutting was my escape. I sat there for a couple more minutes allowing the stinging of my arm to run its course. I closed my eyes and welcomed the pain. I would have chosen physical pain over mental pain over and over again. Physical I could get over. I could get a black eye and three weeks later I could look in the mirror and it'll be gone the pain would be gone. Nothing would be left but the thought of the pain. Oh yea I remember I had a black eye and it hurt when I got it but I wouldn't still be in pain.
With mental pain, Man that type of pain hung around for years and years! The words someone spewed at me,every time I thought of it, the same pain I felt when they said it would come back. I would feel the same type of hurt. The same type of uselessness. That pain wouldn't go away unless you conquered it mentally. And Mentally I couldn't so cutting took me away from that dark place of pain and put me in a pain that made sense to me. I grabbed a couple of paper towels off the counter and applied pressure to my arm to stop the bleeding. After about three or four minutes the bleeding stopped. I threw the paper towels into the miniature trash can by the sink and washed my hands. I walked over to my closet and grabbed some gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. I put it on, grabbed my cellphone and car keys slid my feet into my nike slides and headed out the door.
Once in my car I put Rihanna’s “Needed Me” song on repeated and drove around without a destination. I thought about driving around trying to find him. I thought about waiting at his mother's house for him to get there and hitting him with my car when he did. Heck I even thought about running him off the bridge on his way to work in the morning. But all of that would have gotten me where. No damn where but on the run, in jail ,or if I didn't hit the brakes quick enough, over the bridge with him. I quickly decided it wasnt worth it. Besides I couldnt swim anyway. I drove around for almost two hours until I found myself infront of my grandmother’s house. I took the keys out of the ignition, jogged up the stairs and turned the knob. I was instantly hit with the smell of apples and cinammon in the air.
“Grandma” I yelled into the emptiness. “Grandma” I yelled a little louder. “I’m in the kitchen.” I walked through the living room and dining room to find my grandma in the kitchen covered in flour. I laughed at the sight. “Hey grandma Lottie” I said kissing her on her cheek. “What brings you on this side of town baby” she asked kneading the dough. “Nothing just wanted to come and say hey!”
“Well good perfect timing you can help me with this peach cobbler I gotta make for service tonight” I asked no questions. I went straight over to the sink washed my hands grabbed a paring knife and began slicing the peaches. “Grammy you got it smelling soooo good in here.” Helping my Grandma bake was sooo soothing. It took me back to the time when I had pigtails in my hair and mary jane shoes on my feet. Baking with her made the problems of the world seem soo small. So irrelvant. So .. unimportant. “ I see you back to cutting yourself “ I quickly pulled my arm back . ”Aint no need to hide it baby, whats going on?” I shook my head no “Nothing Grandma Lottie” she stopped what she was doing and looked at me over the rim of her glasses “Mi-Mi” hearing her call me that made me feel like a little kid again. Made me feel INVINCIBLE.
I inhaled deeply and let it all out. “He told me I wasn't good enough for him, Grammy.. After all i did for him after all the sacrifices I made for him. It meant absolutely nothing to him!” “You listen to me right now you dont ever give a man enough power over you to the point where you harm yourself. Where you cut yourself. You dont ever give him the power to make you second guess your worth. HE DIDNT CREATE YOU SO WHY ARE YOU GIVING HIM THE POWER TO BREAK YOU.. LOOK AT ME WHEN IM TALKING TO YOU. I placed the paring knife down and focused in on Grammy. “Child when you were younger you wrote one of them little poems. What they called?” “A Haiku” I smiled. “Yea a Haiku, I remember it made it in a readers digest book that went across the country. I told your momma back then you had a gift like no other. So I’m telling you this now. You pick up a pen and a piece of paper or whatever you have to write on at the moment, and you write. You write whatever comes to your mind. You write your pain away. Baby you write until you feel better. GOD gave you that gift for a reason and its bout time you use it. So put that blade down and pick up that pen.”
When I got home that night my mind was crowded. I had a heaviness on my heart crying wouldn’t get rid of. I got up to go to the bathroom but stopped as I walked pass my dresser. A pen was sitting on top of my light bill envelope. I picked it up and sat down on the edge of the bed. I began to write. I wrote through my sadness, I wrote through my joy, I wrote until I couldn’t write anymore and than I wrote some more... and the rest was history “
-Shanir
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