“Her who?” you ask…
You know who I’m talkin bout! Ole’ girl. You know who she is. Remember the one we used to talk about all the time. That dumb chick?...Yeah, you know how I mean now. I remember laughin at all that stupid ish she used to put up with. I was sittin there sayin I wish my man would!, I would leave him in a second. But yet I find myself still there. Still bein accused, still unhappy, still bein cheated on, lied to, still the one left cryin. I never thought I’d be her. I just knew I was better than that. But I still gotta walk around and play dumb and pretend to smile when my insides are bein ripped in half. I don’t even know who I am anymore. He keeps tellin me I can leave when I’m ready…but yeah right…in that same voice and tone makes me out to be the bad guy when I think about it. Makes me feel like my life’s success and prosperity is tied to this ish. So I sit and try not to let it get to me and pretend to know nothing. My heart aches for release but I love him so. A part of me doesn’t want to go. I need him, I want him, I still trust him to tell me the truth. I have become that dumb broad. Got guys lookin me down left and right, knowin they can do me better but I still say “nah I’m cool”. I feel like a prisoner. Trapped in the cell of my heart. Rakin the cup back and forth across the bars, waitin til the day they can tell me I’m free to go. But I’m like them 25 to lifers. I been in so long I don’t know nothin else. So I really don’t know if I wanna be free. So what do I do…keep bench pressin and liftin weights tryin to let the time pass while I decide what I wanna do. Girl, what do I do??? WHAT YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW!!! YOU SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO HELP ME!...YOU AIN’T GOOD FOR…yo man, I’m so sorry, it the stress of my sentence gettin to me. I still can’t believe I let it happen.
How and when did it happen? I don’t know either. My parole hearing is comin up, so I gotta make up my mind. Do I want out? Why? Do I wanna stay?? And if I stay, is it for me, or for him? Or is it for…? I don’t know. I’m sicka cryin over nothin. This mornin was the last straw. I sat there in my cell, lookin out the window and I couldn’t stop the tears from flowin. And I couldn’t stop it or explain it. I don’t even know where to begin. The beginning you say? Where is the beginning? The beginning or the “beginning” beginning? There is a difference, or so I’m told. Man, I gotta find out what the doggone beginning is before I can start there.
That’s when she said she had to go. The buzzer buzzed and my one visitor came to see me. Now I’m back to my cell…back to the confines of my heart…with nothing left to do but sit and wait for my hearing. DAMN!!