We were off to a rocky start. There were days in the beginning when I didn't know if we would make it. What we were about to do seemed easy enough. It was a seemingly good plan. We would be in and out quickly.
After all, we worked well together-and that should have been enough.
There was trust and lust and other things that would make you go "Bonnie and Clyde who?"
Our friendship was a year old of a thing brewing that I didn't want to acknowledge because I had felt nothing and when I met him I was broken and damaged and tiny and compromised, slowly always self destructing and deconstructing because I held hopelessly to a relationship in which I had been raped of everything except my desire for more out of life.
It was dim then.
Hell, it was dark.
I was lost in an abyss of confusion and my world was crumbling because I believed the lies that my virginity was everything and now that it was taken from me what I had was nothing. Who I was, was nothing!
I walked away...
And he came.
He was too good to be true.
He invited me to church.
We spent a lot of time together, but we were just friends. My mom liked him and didn't mind him staying over after he sat out on the veranda talking with me for hours until it was too late for him to go home. He used to sleep in the couch then and I would sneak out to go watch movies with him on the laptop while the whole world slept.
Don't worry, that's all we did.
He didn't seem interested in being intimate with me and so I respected him even more and wanted to spend more time with him-until he told me he loved me!
I had then begun avoiding him and I did and said incredulous things to scare him off but he didn't leave me. He never left me.
I had a skewed reasoning of what it meant when someone of the opposite sex meant when they said "I love you".
He asked me out and I complied because I really wanted to go...
I traveled that year and that's when he had finally worked his way into my spirit and convinced me that I loved him too.
I was like Cher in the 1995 "Clueless" when I muttered under my breath to myself in my Maryland apartment "I love Kevin?!"
November 2009 he asked me to marry him and I got up and ran. I ran out the house, down the steps, through the yard gates and down the road, jetting like Julia Roberts in "Runaway Bride" back in 1999.
I can still see my mom at the top at the steps cursing at me as I sprinted down the street and my sisters looking on thinking I was a complete idiot.
I married him July 21st, 2010.
It was the hardest thing to do and we weren't off to a good start because his family hated me-they still do apparently.
The early years were filled with bitterness and resentment on my my part and sexual incompetence on both our parts. Trust, that that is not a play on words!
Just because we were able to make a baby or three doesn't mean we were any good at intercourse, outercourse, foreplay or whatever the rest of it was, but the sexual discourse got better over time, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still suck at times.
We had the sexual intelligence of a brick and a cup of water.
Our years were filled with growing pains that hurt so bad it felt like torture-far worst than childbirth and more unsettling than a colonoscopy and all I wanted to do was escape so I asked for a divorced three times. The last time was some years ago when I had given up on him, on us and everything else.
Our marriage was a breathing ground of hurt and resentment and I wanted out.
Adding to that, I had had enough of his family and I believe they had had enough of me.
Every time I talked to him about divorce I would have a dream of my future and he was with me and we were happy and our children were older and they were happy and they loved us and came around us and my sons had wives...their wives loved me and I loved them.
There were times I just couldn't see the light and happiness seemed like a begrudging fairy tale that wasn't attainable for us. It wasn't like the vows were written "...for better, for worst...for richer, for poorer..."
It was just a constant series of mishap and misfortune.
He had made me believe we would be okay financially before we got married and yet after we got married I was constantly dipping into my savings that I had worked so hard to accumulate before we got married until it was completely depleted and yet his family was over here giving me shit about how worthless, jobless and fat I was. I resented him for that for so long that it seemed to poison my love for him.
It was something I had to work though.
In my eyes he was weak.
I had so much to learn and no teacher and I had become a mom all over again, then again-I was two more times the mom than I cared to be. I was lost, confused and drowning.
I soon started to realize that my marriage was our thump print and that our household was just that, ours.
I was Queen and he was King and letting people come in and try to run you, your marriage or your household is a big mistake-no matter how long they had been married or how many children they had given birth to or fostered.
I learnt to take charge of my life and that happiness was a choice. I learnt to look at things through a different scope and "I finally see you," I told him "I fail to understand you at times, but I see you."
He was doing his best as a man in his position. He didn't always have the right words but he always has the best intentions.
He isn't weak,
and he helps the best way he knows how.
He loves me the best he can with all that he's got.
He's my best friend who I happen to make love with *wink*.
I declare seven years to life.
I declare it gets better from here. I decree we've past the worst. I declare there is no lack in our household. I decree every need met. I declare his, mine and our children success and happiness. No more mishaps or misfortune.
Our lineage is blessed and favored and this will be the inheritance of our family though all generations.