Released

I leave for the weekend and you decided to turn around
Do your thing
Not give a fuck
And let this drown
Goddamn, I knew this time would come
Didn’t know for how long it was going to last
But I know now
Deleting your apps so your ex won’t suspect shit
I dreamt about that
I told you I was a witch
And that I’m not a bitch to fuck with
Ain’t giving you your stupid jacket back
Don’t even trynna call to come get it
It’ll be far gone, cuz I’m gonna wear it
That’ll be like a trophy and I’ll wear it nicely
It’s a Levis so it was quite pricey
Called you and you hung up the phone
Fuck you, nigga!
Just go back to yo’ momma’s home!
Daddy issues fucked you up, you ain’t far from that
You turned out to be just like your dad
Got yourself lookin’ in the mirror with his face starin’ right back
Do whatever you want
Cuz’ I officially don’t give a fuck
You wanted a pity party, well now you’ll have one
Boo-hoo, R2! I feel so bad for you!
Poor baby, you got so much on your table!
Your head spinning so fast you just can’t be stable!
I feel so sick…
The only good thing ’bout you was your big ass dick
But like that one I’ve had plenty
I know I deserve much better
But now for a fact I know that you’re really not that clever
Fuck this shit!
I’m tired writing about this bitch
You just like fucking Kanye
And I’ll be like Amber Rose
Good luck finding someone that’ll fuck and lick your ass-hole
Peace out
I’m out
Forget ’bout me too
I won’t be around

 

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Imprisoned Mind

Do I still think about him? Oh, every day.
Every single day his memory attacks my brain, and if I don’t snap out of it, it’s like I’m falling in an endless pit swalloing me whole.
Sometimes when I’m driving, it just hits me and I start screaming from the top of my lungs to get it all out, if I don’t do so I just start sobbing uncontrollably.
I just keep remembering the good times, because that’s what we mostly had together, a good damn time.
Every heart break makes me lose a little faith for what could possibly be out there for me. I close the door on people, but most of all, I close the door on myself.
When will this be over? I don’t know…I don’t even know if I want it to be over.
I dream of him about every three weeks, dreams where I go looking after him wanting to stay with me. But he doesn’t, not even in my dreams he chooses me. He rejects me and it kills me.
The thing is that we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. The last time I saw him, he was flipping me off with both hands walking the opposite way on puddle filled alley. The last words that I heard from him were “I can’t talk, they’ll throw me in jail” through the phone. We just stayed there for a minute listening to each others breaths.
But until this day, I wonder; Does he think of me the way I think of him? Does he remember me the way I remember him? Does he cherish the good times just like I do? Does he feel some kind of guilt? Some kind of remorse?
These are the questions that come to mind when I end up in that self-destructing turbine.
Then, forcefully, I think about the things that he did to me, the other girl, that last day, all of that just to make it go away.

Third and Last Strike Pt.1

Couldn’t sleep that night, smoked some weed, didn’t help, so I finished unpacking for the second time all my belongings from the car. I felt good, being in my home felt great, cooked some breakfast for him for when he got off from work he would have some hot food on the table. Everything was painting for a good day, but he got home stressed from work. That was it, that’s what ticked him off, off on me…

He only took a couple of bites and sat in bed, his attitude was weird, he was acting kind of sketchy. We left the apartment and went to do some laundry at the laundry matt. He took my tablet and spent all the time inside of the car in the backseat chatting with who know’s who…Who am I lying to ? He was talking to that girl. He stepped out, finally, I approached him and asked him what was going on, then he said “We’re done”, I used stared at him with such disbelief and disappointment. Went inside, started grabbing my stuff and headed to the car fast. He was right behind me, trying to get into the car as fast as he could before I had a chance to lock the passenger door. As soon as he got inside he started banging the console and almost blew the air bag up. This was the first time I raised my voice at him, he called me a bitch and I said to him, very loudly “You think that this is me being a bitch? You’re wrong, but if you really want to see a bitch, hang on ’cause you’ll see one RIGHT NOW”. I drove to the apartment, went straight into the room and threw all of his clothes from the closet out to the living room. He then, again, said that he was going to stay at some buddie’s house and wouldn’t come back ’till the next day and that he hoped that I was gone by then. He prepared his overnight bag and went out for a walk. I coulnd’t take the frustration and anger, I had to talk to someone, so I called my ex-roomate and she came by. Half an hour later, he comes back, quietly, picks up the bag, and left without saying a word. I went into the kitchen and kind of opened the blinds, there he was, inside of a ridiculous orange car, that’s when I finally was able to put a face to the name. My world crashed, just kept walking back and forth in the living room, my friend didn’t know how to calm me down, she was also in disbelief.

Second Strike Pt. 1

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We were working things out, things were still kind of on edge, but I had hope.
My friends were very worried about me, they wanted me to fly back to Tijuana, to be with them and with my family, somewhere safe. So I started lying to them and to my parents, telling them that we were broken up, that things were done aftert that fight, that he wasn’t living there at the apartment anymore.

I don’t remember how the discussion started, but I do remember, myself, being on my knees, between his legs, while he was sitting on a rocking chair that his aunt gave us; he was stubborn, and well, being a dick. After having a somewhat long of a conversation, or at least that’s how it felt like; I told him, in a calm but serious tone, that my patience has a limit, and that God’s my witness I was patient…so then I asked him  “What is it that you want? Because I know what I want, and what I want is to be with you, to be how we were,I don’t want no one else.”…he just paused and said “What I want is for you to want to leave”…my heart dropped, was in complete disbelief. After he begged me to stay, after all the promises that he made, after all the loving words that he said. I said that it was fine, if that’s what he really wanted. I went to the bedroom and stayed there, he didn’t care seeing me cry, he didn’t care the sadness that showed on my face, he got his phone, the apartment key and left, again…
I stayed in the room the whole day and afternoon packing again for the second time..I was so mad, frustrated, I felt betrayed, worthless and played…
It was night already, I was chatting on Facebook with a very good friend of mine, unfortunately she has been in an abusive relationship before, when he got back. As soon as he walked through the door, my body started shaking non-stop, couldn’t control my body, my hands and jaw were shaking uncontrollably…He got into the apartment yelling “I’m gonna make some noise!”, he came into the room, I was frozen, again…stiff as a board, he grabbed some stuff from under the coffee table that was across from the bed, dragging everything out, he crumbled a letter that I wroted for him and soaked in with water and threw in the kitchen trashcan, while he did this, he was looking at me and smiling. He ripped the curtain that separated the bedroom from the rest of the apartment, and then he tried to throw me out of the bed by pulling the sheets, which are mine, off the bed and lifting the mattress. I could smell alcohol on his breath…He went to the bathroom and started to take a shower, he was “rapping” what he was feeling at the moment, and what he was feeling was clearly hate toward’s me. I coulnd’t listen to him for another second, so I put a CD on the DVD player and played it as loud as I could. He then went to the living room and slept the rest of the night. Something that I couldn’t do because I was afraid, afraid of him maybe entering and try to do something to me in my sleep…

To be continued…

 

 

First Strike.

 

I really don’t remember how this discussion started, but I definitely remember how it ended. It ended with me, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, crying, noticing my neck and face red.

Things started heating up, I just wanted to be there for him, was just trying to calm him down, but I made a terrible mistake my blocking the front door. That’s when fear kicked in, when he grabbed be by my neck and choked me with both hands, dragging me like that for 5 feet against the door, that followed by a slap and him yelling at me “What? I thought you liked that”, referring to my sexual kinks. Then, he proceeded by punching my jaw between his fists, that’s when I really felt pain, but it did not end there, it ended when he grabbed me in a choke hold from behind and dragged me to the floor, and he still blamed me for taking him down with me. I stood up, my sweater was ripped and barely on me.
I wasn’t able to defend myself, I was in complete shock, it was just unbelieveable.

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He left for about 4 hours, didn’t even wonder how I was…

The next day, I decided to stay…he said that he didn’t want me to leave. That he loved me so much and that he wouldn’t know what to do if I wasn’t there by his side. I was weak…

Bruises started popping on my arms from the way he grabbed me, another one on the right side of my jaw, had  a sore neck and a messed up left wrist for a week.

After that, for a week and a half, everything was beautiful, right like before…

Here, alone…

IMG_1446I’m sitting at the corner of the table in a weird Motel, in a weird town, far away from home, far away from the one I love.
Still asking myself why these things happen to me, and can’t find the answer. I’ve been taking every day as it comes, and unfortunately it has only been a never ending nightmare.
I think of him constantly, wondering how he’s doing, if he’s thinking of me…if he misses me. But I know that he’s okay, he’s more than fine, because he found comfort in the arms of another girl, of a girl that he said, and swore, having no feelings towards her.
And here I am, still sitting in the corner of this table, in this weird Motel, in this weird far away town.