Love has been trapped in our empty hearts since resentment flossed its way through our household, more like his household until I slayed him to marriage.
Taking time to watch my moves, you would think I was building a big rocket for NASA.
Nobody stood between me and my mission to be with this man whose scent, to me, was of green paper, thus a brighter future so I thought.
My obsession lost me good friends and created distance with my family but either way I acquired what I thought was mine.
The silent quarrels in our minds formed a very dark fog in whichever room we found ourselves together.
It was toxic enough for me to rethink, which was too late since I was carrying his legacy.
And with no money, I was stuck with him.
For sanity purposes, I allowed myself to escape through my credit cards that he refilled every month.
In the past few weeks, other than the help of my books, I envisioned stories from stale scents in his daily clothes.
It became a habit of him coming home multi-scented and my nose detecting the smell of different fragrances.
At times, seated at the rocking chair in the living room, waiting for him to drag his body through the front door, I imagined myself as a villain and whomever she was, would receive the wrath with her body bound in chains to the ground.
I giggled from the thought. If only.
After a few months, the scents disappeared but his body began to deteriorate from the vomiting, red rashes, fatigue and severe headaches.
Out of concern, I took him to receive medical care hoping it was a mild state.
Seated with him in discomfort, the doctor returned with some medication.
My eyes fixated on the medication, I knew I had seen them before, the exact ones.
Hoping it was a figment of my imagination, I confirmed with the doctor and he nodded restlessly.
Fury got the best of me and I glared at my ailing husband, ‘Were you seriously that mad?’
I stormed out.
Happy Reading 💚
I’m Too Pretty to be Broke and Other Lies You’ve Been Telling Yourself
Image Credits to: Eric Ward