“So you like what you see?”
He asked, one hand pressed against his lips as he sucks on his cigarette. The other brandishing his physique from head to toe. Still wearing that custom pink hat. Jeepers Creepers was right.
Insecurity is a dangerous trait, it belongs to people who don’t love themselves. Someone who doesn’t find themselves worthy, will do anything to be validated, even if it means hurting others.
He shared a story once about his ex fiancé. She was a nurse back home in West Virginia. He flew her out, took her on shopping excursions at the best stores. Showboating, showing her the life he would provide. Once home she called the whole thing off. His profession didn’t help people, it was vacuous. He got angry at her (“I was like fuck you bitch”), because she rejected a future with him.
I had no intentions of seeing him that night, but he rearranged his schedule to do so. He irritated my soul. A few days prior I’d been complaining about a pair of boots I’d ordered. They were delayed on delivery. By the time they reached I’d be at a different location. I tried to change the address with FedEx as the sender told me, but they refused. Brazenly informing me that it would be left outside, since it didn’t require a signature (whatever other solutions you’ve just come up with, trust me I offered).
“You have white girl problems.”
He said that via text and again that night in the bar. I ripped him apart. Excuse me. You just said being black means I’m not afforded the privilege of first world problems. He was determined to break me, since I didn’t want a future with him. He continued to berate me. I continued to stand up for myself. When he went to smoke a cigarette the bartender asked me if I was okay. There was a look in his eye, like he was possessed. He started accusing me of things that were spot on from his relationship. Like legit things that happened between them.
“What are you talking about? Dude you’re being crazy, that wasn’t me, that happened with you and Helen.” This man was never not on cocaine and the quantities he consumed made him rage. He tried to start a fight with some kid earlier, claiming he was running his mouth. I reminded him that he was in no way implicated in the boys going ons, leave him alone. By the nights end he would shove me into a hallway wall. Out of his mind. I left him standing at the top of the stairs, where he was gesturing his foot towards me. I told him what he was on my way out, a loser and a drug addict. This man thought we would be a hood couple, that fought and made up. Disregarding my upbringing, stereotyping me. He messaged me trying to apologize. I sent him an online therapy screenshot.
