Lessons I Learned from the Men Who Tried to Love Me

Lesson 7: If a Man Hits You Once, He Will Hit You Twice

June 16, 2007

What was supposed to be a day of celebration had turned into another opportunity for Michael and me to fight. He and I, along with two of my cousins, had thrown a graduation open house in block-party style fashion. Dozens of family and friends decked in all white attire had come out to celebrate with us. We had rented a tent which provided our guests refuge from the summer sun, hired a DJ to keep the crowd hype, and appointed our uncles to keep the grill hot and the drinks cold. I was on cloud 9. I was the first person in my family to graduate from college, despite the added obstacles of being a mom of two sons. I reveled in every minute, unapologetically.

I was talking to some friends near the cake table when I spotted Kevin getting climbing  out of his vehicle. I hadn't invited him to the party, so I was surprised to see him there. Kevin and I attended the same university and we had had some classes together. I walked over to greet him. 

"Hey!" I said, giving Kevin the side-hug I had perfected in church. 

"Hey, what's up? he answered. "Congratulations." 

"Thanks! What are you doing in my 'hood?" I joked. 

"Natalie invited me," he responded. Natalie was my cousin's best friend and much younger than the two of us. 

"Natalie?" I asked genuinely confused. 

"Yes," the smile on his face told me all that I needed to know. I don't know how they ended up in the same circle, but they did, and what they were doing to each other in this said circle was none of my business. 

"Well, okay," I said, changing the subject, "Come and meet my fiance." I had already been talking to Kevin long enough for Michael to notice. I figured my best bet was to introduce the two of them and diffuse the bomb that was Michael's jealousy. 

We walked across the street to the lot where the DJ's stand was and where Michael had decided to post up. Michael eyed me suspiciously as we approached him. "Hey, babe. This is Kevin," I said, "We go to State together. Kevin, this is my fiance, Michael." The two of them shook hands and exchanged a cordial, yet awkward, "hello". I was trying to come off as natural as possible, but the tension was building. I decided to walk Kevin back across the street before he could notice that my fiance was not very much interested in getting to know him. 

"Alright," I joked, grabbing Kevin by the arm, "Let me show you where my money box is!" 

Michael watched me from the other side of the open field where we had set up our tent, completely separate from most of the action, with a look of annoyance. I pretended not to notice, but I decided that I should join him in his self-isolation in order to keep the peace. I excused myself from my conversation and headed back toward Michael. I grabbed a seat next to him and pretended not to notice the obvious shift in his attitude. After about ten minutes of uncomfortable small talk and nibbling on a hot dog, the DJ played "Wipe Me Down" by Lil' Booise, the song of the summer. I jumped up from my seat next to Michael shouting "That's my song!"

"Why don't you just sit down somewhere," he spat at me, a look of disgust cloaking his face. Although no one was around to hear it, the humiliation I felt was as if his words had been blasted through the DJ's microphone. I sat back down in the plastic patio chair next to his, fighting back the tears that welled in my eyes. The rest of the party was awkward to say the least. I tried to feel again the joy I had felt when the party first began, but this feeling had been replaced with so much more: anger, regret, sorrow, confusion.

When the party wrapped up, I hung back under the guise of wanting to help clean up. I knew there was a fight waiting for me when we got home and I was in no rush to get there. I talked with a girlfriend of mine until almost midnight. Realizing I couldn't hide from him forever, I headed home. I pulled into an empty driveway, and I wondered where he could be so late. Then, I answered my own question. Looking for me. Just then, Michael whipped his car into the space behind mine. He leaped from the car, swung open my car door, and began yelling.

"Where have you been? Why you ain't answering your phone?" he screamed.

Phone? I thought. I hadn't looked at my phone for the past couple of hours. In fact, I didn't even know where my phone was.

"I guess I didn't hear it." I said with a slight smile, amused by his irrational anger. Michael's open hand landed hard on my chest.

I thought back to the last time Michael had hit me, slapped me. I was eight months pregnant with Alexander. I had left and stayed in a hotel for two days while I processed it all. I returned home to a tearful Michael who apologized and made me promise that if he ever hit me again, I would leave. It was now time to make good on that promise.

__________________________________

Hey! Thanks for reading. If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a vote!