True Life Story: How My Greediness And Stupidity Costed Me The Love Of My Life.
Hello Lively Stones,
They say that life is a bad teacher. That life gives you a test long before you sit for the lessons. That’s how life operates.
Life’s test can come as options, tough choices that can bend your mind, weaken your resolve and leave you wondering how you got into the mess you find yourself in.
I feel stupid, l feel foolish. I feel utterly useless. But don’t pity me, because I’m the architect of my own sorrow.
Where do l even begin from?
Three years ago, l thought l’d found happiness. But that happiness only lasted exactly two years and nine months.
I still recall the day l told Sandra that it was all over, the day that l felt the scales fall off my eyes.
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It was on a Friday evening, l had received a simple text from her, as l was leaving the Supermarket for home;
“Mike, l will be gone till Sunday evening. Have fun. Take care”
That was all! That annoyingly short and vague text was all the notice my wife thought fit to send me.
I returned home, and as usual, the place was as silent as a graveyard. l took the phone up to my room, sat on the bed, and read the text over and over again. Then, falling on my back, l stared up at the ceiling, l stared so hard that the lines began to blur.
What was l doing to myself? I asked myself. How can l call myself a husband, yet act like a stupid teenager, who was glad to have a woman Lord over him, just because she opens her legs for him?
Yes l was a man, but Sandra was treating me like a child. I was her husband, but she didn’t treat me any better than the houseboy.
She gave all the orders. She ran the home, in short, she ran my entire life.
“Wear this shirt”, “No, don’t wear that one.” “Eat this”, “No, don’t eat that.” “Do this”, “No don’t do that.”
She was just pulling me on a string like a puppet and l was dancing along with every tug.
But that evening, as l lay in bed looking up at the ceiling and thinking, l came to the realization that it was time for me to get up and leave. Yes, l had a wife, but l was better off single. I had a beautiful home, but l didn’t enjoy staying in it.
And worse still, lt was glaringly obvious that Sandra was sleeping around. What if she caught an STI; AIDS or something like that, and passed it over to me?
So that very evening, l made a resolve. I had to leave that place l had called home for over two years. I just had to leave, to preserve my sanity.
So l began to pack my things. And by Sunday morning, l’d packed all the stuff l needed. Then l sat down to await Sandra’s return.
I had everything planned out. When she gets in, l d’ just tell her that l was tired of her crazy behavior. I was leaving and would only come back, if she turned a new leaf. There’d be no shouting, no harsh words, no unnecessary drama.
Well, it was one thing to plan and another thing to execute it. Sandra came back from wherever she had gone to, tipsy and incoherent.
I let her go up to her room. I let her undress and take a shower. Then, l went up to her room to meet her.
“Sandra l’m leaving,” l began.
“Leaving for where?” She asked, looking up at me and tugging at the sash of her house coat.
“Leaving you,” l said, swallowing hard.
Sandra had the most perfect set of b00bs l’d ever set my eyes on. And her body had a crazy effect on me. She knew this too well, and used it effectively.
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“Leaving me? What nonsense! come to bed, l’ve been dying to be in your arms,” she cooed, standing and letting the house coat fall.
Her body, the perfect hour glass figure, the swell and rise of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the ‘camel-toe’ she had shaved into a perfect vee, and the open invitation she offered me, made me swallow hard, but l was determined.
“I’m leaving, l’m tired of being treated like a child, like some idiot. I’m leaving and if you want me back, then, you must change your ways,” I said breathing hard, yet glad to have gotten the whole thing off my chest.
“Are you threatening me? I don’t like being threatened, you know,” she said, picking up her robe and pulling it on.
“You have to change or else l’m gone for good.” I said.
Then, she snapped.
“Gone for good! Fck you Mike! Who the hell do you think you are, God’s gift to women? I picked you from the gutters, l gave you a better paying job, give you my body, gave you a home, feeds you, agreed to marry you, and yet you aren’t grateful! Fck you! You are leaving me, l should start crying right? You Know how many men who would die to just share my bed? Pack up and go! Crawl back into the gutters you came from, and don’t wait for me to change!”
“If that’s how you want it,” l said and turned to leave.
“That’s how l want it. You are worthless and you can’t give me orders or threaten me.” She said, and reached for a bottle of Brandy.
I left her and moved my things downstairs. I was calling on the houseboy to help me carry them outside, when Sandra appeared at the top of the stairs. Her robe was undone and the houseboy and l could see all the wares she had to offer.
“I hope you remember what you came into this house with. So take only one suitcase and leave,” she screamed at me.
“You can’t say that.” I stammered.
“Okay, just watch me, Sunday,” she called, addressing the houseboy, who was torn between looking up and not looking.
“Ma,”
“Tell Musa not to open the gate for this idiot, until l tell him to do so.”
“You are a sick b*tch,” l screamed.
“Thank you.” She said and went back to her room.
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I had to transfer some clothes and essential stuff into one of the bigger suitcases, before the sick b*tch told the gateman to let me out.
I went out in a blind rage, boarded down a taxi and asked him to drive me to a friend’s place. l’ve never been so humiliated all my life, and once l settled into Dare’s house, l let the tears flow.
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I couldn’t just help but reminisce on the past. About how all this madness started. How my greediness and stupidity costed me Angela; the love of my life.
And this is exactly how it happened.
To be continued…
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Part 2