2
It happened several times, different names...2 to be exact...
I'm in a deep sleep, awaken by his thunder...he aggressively grabs my body and holds it tight - like he never wants to let go, never wants to be away from my skin, my touch, my breath. Pulls me close to his skin, as close as two bodies could ever get. Close like water molelcules in water. Close like a baby next to their mother's bosom. Close like soulmates, what I knew we were.
I feel his love. I feel his wanting me, I feel his wanting me raw, stripped from everything in the world materialistic. I was happy everyday with him. We never fought, never argued about anything serious. He was my perfection and I thanked God everyday for his love. I was so grateful to have him and I knew it.
Finally, there was someone in this world who wanted me, laughed with me, understood me, loved me unconditionally. A real man who knew how to treat a woman. A good man who respected me, believed in me. I found what every woman wanted. And I had it right in front of me. And I was going to do everything I could to keep our love strong.
I surrendered to him, giving myself to him entirely, my soul at his hands to hold whenever he wanted.
And he passionately says with absolute yearning, wanting, longing...
"Gina, baby, I want to make love to you and feel you, be in you."
Gina!
I look at him and see that clearly he's asleep. He turns over and continues to sleep.
Gina!
I am Stephanie, strong, sexy, loving. I love him hard. Not Gina. I'm not Gina. I'm down for him. I'm there for him everyday through everything he goes through, by his side as his woman - faithful, loving, nurturing.
I am NOT Gina. I was never or ever will be Gina.
I cried all night and hurt in my soul, more than I ever felt in my life. I knew he loved me. But I felt my love, my sex, my passion, my physical and emotional self wasn't enough for the man that I loved because of this - a fantasy I felt he wanted, Gina.
I didn't give him the love he needed to feel satisfied, content - I wasn't the fantasy.
As I laid in bed with him asleep, I cried and my soul died for the first time.
The SECOND time the name Daytra was called out. In my bed, my apartment, my sanctuary, my home...where my man sleeps in my SHIT, I felt the wrath - again.
He grabs my bottom and holds it tight, waking me up from another deep sleep. Strips me from my clothes, like he's about to make love to me, holds me, carresses me, passionately takes me in his arms to start to share himself with me and says to me
"Daytra baby I wanna fuck you, don't say a word".
I push him away and cry my eyes out, left my bed and just cried in my living room. It was my apartment. I was too ashamed to wake MJ up and beg for her to console me. I was ashamed! I was Cold, hurt, sad - beyond my own comprehension.
The worst part of the story is that at first, I didnt even confront him. I threw him the worst attitude anyone could give. I become passive aggressive and he doesn't even know why I became such a bitch.
What's even more crazy is that I still love the man - till this day I still do. With all of my heart, I love the man.
So today, I take the pain that I feel and create art. I'm not mad at him, upset anymore. I channel this pain into my art, my self, my creation I want to share with the world. I just hope he got his Gina, or got to make love to his Daytra.
PAIN creates vulnerbility that can be created into power. It's all I'm left with. I'm creating something great. Something powerful. I'm real as the typhoon in the Philippines and the earthquake in Samoa. Ain't no reason to be mad, feel sorry, be sad.
We go through what we do because we're supposed to. It's the way the universe works. It's all about love. Love hard. It's my way.
I'm creating a new world in steph's closet, my life from this pain.
