“No one knows what its like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind brown eyes
No one knows how to say
That they’re sorry and don’t worry
I’m not telling lies”
After Alphonso moved to Yakima, to live with Pat, everything slowly started to change.
I went through separation issues. You have got to understand, as soon as Alphonso and I met, we were inseparable. I became hugely dependent on him. For everything.
He would always do my makeup for me, spending hours teaching me his makeup tricks, and in the end, was never quite satisfied by my own results. He would pluck my eye brows and call me a “pussy” when I would tell him “IT HURTS!”
Whether I was going out or going to work, Alphonso would help me with my outfit. On the occasion or two when I would pick my own outfit out, all it would take was one look from him and I knew I was not quite getting it. He claimed I was stuck in the 80’s.
We would watch our favorite movie together, Titanic. “You jump I jump” became our saying, our cath phrase to eachother when things were not-so-good. It was our own way of letting the other know, I got you!
When he moved, Alphonso and I quickly found ourselves in a new routine. We would call each other daily, multiple times. He took on his new role of being a housewife, and even though it was so not him, he seemed to enjoy it. Pat would leave for work in the early morning hours, and Alphonso would stay home, clean the house, call me to gossip and always made sure to have dinner on the table for when Pat got home from work.
This was an Alphonso I was not quite used to. I mean his idea of dinner was a cocktail and smoke.
Christin was branching off more, doing her own thing. We still hung out, just not quite as often. I knew things were changing, and it was only a matter of time before I knew what would happen. She would leave too.
One night after I hung up with Alphonso, T had one of his fits.
“Who were you talking to?”
“How do I know you were talking to Alphonso?”
“Because I am telling you that is who I was talking to.”
He pulled the phone out of the wall and threw it across the room. It hit the other wall, and left a nice size hole.
“You want to fuck him don’t you? Have you fucked him before? Why are you always talking to him?”
I knew I had one of two options on how to handle this latest outburst. I can sit there and not say anything at all, waiting it out until it passes, or I can stand up for myself for once.
Was I prepared for the consequences? It would not be good, Could I sit there and let him go on about Alphonso and I sleeping together? That pissed me off. I missed my friend, and I just wanted to have support. T could not even give it to me. All he did was accuse me of sleeping with my best friend, who is gay!
I took the pony-tail holder I had off my wrist and slowly pulled my hair back. Time had taught me in the past that if T goes crazy when my hair is down, that is the first thing he goes for. I did a quick survey of the room, trying to locate any more open objects that he may throw at me, I discreetly took off my dangling earrings, as that would be the second thing he would go for.
“I am not going to dignify your questions with a reply, if you think so little of me, why are you….”
That’s all it took. He rushed over to me, his face inches away from mine, yelling at me as loud as he could.
“What did you say Bitch? I can kill you right now, get that straight.”
I was shaking both inwardly and outwardly, I was letting my fear be shown and he knew it.
“Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again. You fucken whore.”
He spat in my face, and left, slamming the door so hard, that the few pictures we had hanging up fell off the wall.
I quickly got up, locked the door, washed my face, and called Alphonso.
“What do you want, I am cooking dinner!”
I could not say a word, I was crying, and he knew it.
“What happened? Talk to me, remember , you jump I jump.”