My Truth by J. H. Phillips - HTML preview

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My Search

 

Now after my girlfriend’s sudden departure you would think that I’d be depressed, you’d be wrong. I was pissed, I was madder than a bull seeing red, I wanted something or someone one to lash out at so I scoured the streets until I found just what I was looking for.

 

Her name, well her name is unimportant but for a couple of thousand she let me abuse and degrade her in ways that I don’t care to talk about after I left her quarters on Sunday, the Lord’s Day of Rest, I felt dirtier than I’d ever felt before.

 

But there was a simple solution to my problem, alcohol so I spent the rest of the day drinking in an effort to try and forget what I’d done and it was in that drunken stupor that I met my next girlfriend, Jessica, she was just my type; blonde, beautiful, big breasted and deeply insecure in a word perfect.

 

It took less than a week to convince her to move in with me, I was back baby no more takeout’s and eating at restaurants, no more laundry mat’s for me I had a woman in my life to take care of my needs once more.

 

Things were great with Jessica until she too started with the marriage questions. Each time she’d ask the question I’d fob her off with some lie but one day I’d just had enough.

 

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon and we were stuck in the house, we were watching some stupid comedy show and I was at ease completely relaxed in my own space with a woman at my side. When she asked that infuriating question once more when are we going to get married?

 

Now I was happy with the relationship as it was, Jessica did the cooking and cleaning and I dealt with the other stuff. We had a joint bank account which I was in charge of, as it should be, we had great sex almost every day and her job gave me a lot of flexibility to pursue my other hobbies if you know what I mean. But the thing which I valued the most about my relationship with Jessica was that she didn’t want to have a child born out of wedlock so she was super careful when it came to prevention.

 

I don’t know what it was maybe her biological clock was ticking but in recent days she’d been harping on and on about “taking our relationship to the next level” next level for goodness sake I didn’t even know her last name how on this green earth could I take it to the “next level” with her?

 

She was Jessica …. Whatever  she’d told me her surname, her post which was delivered to the apartment had her surname but for me it just wasn’t important enough to remember and it wasn’t because I knew that one day soon she’d share my last name it was because I simply didn’t care enough about her to learn and remember it.

 

Heck when we went out and I introduced her to people it was always as Jessica, not as my girlfriend or partner, or future wife always as Jessica because I knew that I had no future with her.

 

My mother when I asked her why she’d decided to marry my father knowing full well that she was the fifth one in line said that when she tried to imagine a future without my father by her side she couldn’t see one and that was why she chose to marry him.

 

I didn’t feel that way about Jessica the only thing I would feel should she leave would be irritation as with my last girlfriend because my routine would be interrupted so on that day I snapped.

 

I looked into her large brown eyes and slapped her hard as my hand connected with her face the love I saw reflected in her eyes changed to shock no fear no anger just shock and I think I touch of betrayal.

 

I pushed her of the sofa, sat on top of her chest and pinned her arms to the carpeted floor. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes of hers tears streaming down her perfectly chiseled cheeks and I said, “I will never marry you, I mean look at you. You’re a slut you moved in after less than week of knowing me, your assets are always on display for the world to see, you drink and smoke do you really think that you are the type of woman I would marry?” I didn’t give her a chance to respond as I dragged her by the hair to the hallway mirror.

 

“Look at you,” I commanded her, “who would marry you?” Her mascara was running down her face and a nice purple bruise was forming on the side of her face. “You look and dress like a whore, do you really think that I would take you home to meet my parents, to give you mine and my father surname, to let you bear me children, do you?”

 

I released her and left the house, when I returned twelve hours later very much sober I found Jessica there. Sitting in the now immaculate apartment, wearing a long lavender dress I’d never seen her in, her long blonde hair tied in a loose pony tail and wearing no makeup. Even with the bruise she looked gorgeous.

 

My shock and surprise at her presence there was greater than the anger which had coursed through my veins when I slapped her.

 

I slammed the door behind me in an effort to mask my shock, I thought that I should pretend to still be angry at least until she apologized for her behavior.

 

A man is never wrong so he never needs to apologise.

 

I paced the room and waited for her to speak and when she did it was in a voice I had never heard her use before, no that isn’t the correct way to describe it her voice sounded the same it was her tone and words which had changed. But before the night was over so would I.

 

Jessica didn’t look directly at me and I refused to look at her as well because I knew that if I looked into her eyes I would do something I would regret.

 

“John, I’m sorry,” yes was my initial thought she was apologizing the guilt I felt over my little outburst evaporated, “I’m sorry that you feel that way about me.”

 

These words were unexpected, but what else could you expect from women they love drama and where none exists they’ll create it.

“But perhaps my actions and attire led you to believe those things about me, I am neither cheap nor a slut or whore. Everything I did I did because I truly felt that you were the one. From the minute I saw you two years ago I knew that you were the one for me.” 

 

This was news to me she’d been stalking me for over two years? “I saw the type of women you were into so I transformed myself into their image. I did all this because I knew that you were the one God had saved me for. Even as I slept with you breaking my covenant with God, I knew that it would all be okay because we were meant to be together because I couldn’t see a future for myself without you in it.” Then she left with just the clothes on her back.

 

Her words struck a chord with me especially her last sentence which was a mirror of the words my mother had used when describing her marriage to me.

 

My heart was yelling, screaming at me to follow her to stop her because she was the one but once more my heart, mind and body were not in unison so I let her go.