Saturday Book Read w/ Sharine Jones: The End of 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.



Chapter 1


September 2004: End of Summer (Continued)

He began to tell me about his night, and how he was in a heated argument with Blu’s best friend, Farrell. I saw the anger oozing out of him and it was apparent that Farrell said something that really perturbed Slimm. And so, I sat there staring at him affectionately, not knowing what would come next. Then all of sudden he yanked me by the arm and demanded to know what I told Blu. I suppose he needed to take his anger out on someone and he chose me. I had no idea what he was talking about, which I told him so. But, this frustrated him even more. He started cursing, saying upsetting words,

“I knew I couldn’t fuckin’ trust you!”

“What are you talking about?!” I didn’t tell Blu anything,” I responded in complete utterness.

I could not believe what was happening. What started as a conversation had turned into a fighting match between me and him–with me trying to escape his huge hands. I climbed back onto the bed to distance myself from him, but it didn’t matter. He grabbed me by my clothes, and once I was in his clutches, he began to strangle me; his hands were firm around my neck. Grasping for air I began to kick him as hard as I could, until he let go. He finally let go of me, but without warning he did the unthinkable: BAM! He head-butted me directly in the forehead!

I laid on the bed, holding my head, and cried in pain; while he walked around the room ranting and raving–spitting saliva everywhere. I…


           I was so angry. I could not believe, he would abuse me over “he say, she say” drama! “Who does that?!,” I thought to myself. He stood there yelling and hollering, making no sense at all–and there was no end to his ranting. He refused to talk, but demanded to be heard. I then slowly got out of bed, with the bed now between us; he was on one side and I was on the other.

He began with his violent threats shouting, “I’m gonna beat your ass!”

I was offended by his brutal words, because I didn’t do anything wrong! With anger I shouted back at him saying,

You wake me out of my sleep; tricked me into an argument; beat on me; and threaten me because Blu’s homeboy said something to you –something you didn’t like?!”

I picked up a half-full water bottle by the cap and threw it across the room aiming at his face. I watched as the plastic bottle propelled in the air and struck him in the eye. He stood there for a few seconds silently with his hand over his eye, and then blood trickled down his finger. Noticing the blood, I quickly rushed to his side and apologized. I felt horrible; I didn’t intend to hurt him–and he had no words for me. He left me that night only to return a few hours later with stitches above his eyebrow. Quietly, he joined me in bed, looked me dead in the eyes, and said,

“We’re gonna go through things. That’s what a relationship is about.”

At the time I was happy to hear those words; my man was back and he still loved me. I told myself that Blu and his friend were trying to ruin my relationship. However, it would not be until later in my life that, “going through things in a relationship” does not mean you beat the living hell out of each other and forget about it the next day. But until then all I knew was this: “I was in LOVE.”


Mutual Addiction

          Over the next few weeks, our arguments and disagreements with each other would only get worse. And it was during this time that I did not care what he would do to me; because I would always find my way back to him. It did not matter if he had a new reason to blame me or fault me for anything; and it did not matter if he used excessive physical force to get his point across (using me as his punching bag whenever he felt like venting his anger)–I still wanted to be his girl! There were times that he would threaten to leave me and I would get down on my knees, crying to him–begging to him– to stay; and he did. And there were times that he would be just plain mean, cold, and distant towards me; but I took it. He was worth any exertion of hurtful emotions I felt; and he was worth any risk of Indiscretions I have made in the past. He was my drug.

I was addicted to him, to us, and he was too. We could have made our lives easier, by leaving each other alone, but we didn’t. Instead, we would go back and forth, arguing and fighting with each other. But as always, in the end, we would eventually talk and make up. It was a cycle; a pattern – a mutual addiction.


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