Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones, Chapter 1: Love

Reflections of A Woman’s Indiscretions

This book is dedicated to my mother Elena, grandmothers Josephine & Evril,
& to all the Ladies in my life –
Strong women I have seen
Prevail no matter the circumstances or challenges.


           20131102-145624.jpg Love. The power isn’t in the word, but how we illustrate our actions. Any person can say they love you, but how they represent their passion, affection, emotions, and desire is what counts. Love has the ability to flourish with beauty or demolish into shattered pieces. I’m familiar with both, although the latter exceeds what I expected. I was so desperate for love I compromised everything to gain it. My name is Sharine and I’m a woman whose life was almost destroyed because of Love; because I loved a man more than I did myself. My story is about that thin line between love and hate; anger, confusion, drama, and violence – a dysfunctional love story. No. I’m not famous, rich, or a socialite; I’m not a video vixen, a reality star, or a celebrity. I’m just an ordinary person who endured some terrible experiences and lived to share it with others. These appalling occurrences still exist through the mirror of mind as reflections of my past life, which were full of indiscretions; risky, crazy, and constant foolishness. Sometimes I can’t even believe this is MY story and what used to be MY life.

              Today is 85 degrees in Los Angeles; a beautiful day. The sun is shining bright, the sky is extra blue, and no smog in sight. The grass is green, and the birds are singing their little hearts out. It’s absolutely breathtaking. As I sit on my sofa snuggled up to a cranberry throw pillow, peering out the window, I allow my thoughts to flow freely–This day’s beauty is a wonderful reminder of how blessed I am to be alive. My thoughts now take me to where I was five years prior: a shady and desolate place–a place where darkness blinded my eyes from the realization of my life. A place where obscurity dominated and the shadows reached out to seize me. Today this vile place exists only in my mind as dark memories. These memories marked by darkness take me back to those desperate and despondent times when I was in love with a man named Slimm. Here is my story.


             We met at a neighborhood market–the end of 2003. He was charming and polite, and after a brief conversation, he offered his phone number; and I reluctantly accepted. I knew I shouldn’t have for numerous reasons–including the wedding band on my ring finger–but I did anyway. The truth was: I was unhappily married. And I found his charm intertwined with his thug demeanor to be rather sexy and attractive. Regardless, it took me a couple of months before I finally called him–and once I did we became very acquainted over the next few months. We had heartfelt conversations; learned each other’s personalities, personal history, beliefs, and goals etc. But most of all, we spent a lot of time together. Looking back at these early months, he illustrated a warm, gentle, and loving side of himself–a friendly giant standing at 6’6 (his hands alone were bigger than my size 6 feet). I quickly began to experience bliss with him and longed to be with him more and more each day. Spending time with him was enjoyable, but it was on “The Low.” I was a married woman – had been for seven years, just miserable in it.

My marriage was falling apart, but in all honesty allowing this man into my world only made my relationship with my husband worse. [Believe me when I say I am less than proud of my choices, but it was what it was.] My husband and I had issues within our relationship–and I was young, naïve, and selfish. My choices at that time were only beneficial to me; I was so wrapped up in this man. The way he made me feel and the way he treated me–how considerate, kind, affectionate, and attentive he was. He listened when I spoke, showered me with sweet words, and took care of my needs. But he was also a bad boy: street smart, intelligent, and feared–It was a turn-on! After all, I always had a thing for bad boys. I think it was the gangster movies that enhanced this preference of mine like The Godfather, Good Fellas, Scarface, The Untouchables, and the American Gangster. I loved the men that played in those movies: rough and hard; smart and wise; and, good to their women. Slimm was that man. He totally gained my heart and trust. He made me feel like a woman.

Click here to read Chapter 1 continued


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