Part Eleven: Imprinting

 

Confesh-sesh #14: Mirror mirror on the wall, why did you let me fall? Because you got sick after you had a taste of that devil dick…

The word chivalry popped into my head recently. I actually heard the phrase ‘chivalry is dead’. Let that sink in.

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Chivalry was a moral and social code used in Medieval times as a guide to how Knights should behave. Fuck yeah then, chivalry is dead. When last did you bump into a knight while walking down the road? ‘Oh, hello, good Sir. Did you go to get your suit of armor dry cleaned?’ 

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The code of chivalry also spoke of ‘courtesy to women’. Is this specifically what we refer to when we say ‘chivalry is dead’? We definitely no longer have an army of knights walking around but does that mean all the values instilled in these men years ago became obsolete? What I find hilarious is that number one, courtesy to a woman had to be incorporated into a ‘code’ because of course, we are such lesser creatures, and two, based on my very limited knowledge of history women were treated as an accessory to a man from the beginning of time, however these men, even before the invention of feminists who have fought so hard for equality, still, albeit only due to a ‘code’, treated women with respect.

That’s a long sentence. Take your time with it. It’s loaded.

Lemme break this down for you. Narrow, pig-minded men would say ‘but if you want to be treated as an equal don’t complain’. First things first,we’re not complaining. Chivalry is NOT opening a car door, last I checked, I can do that just fine. Chivalry is NOT paying for the entire dinner bill, I’d split that shit with you. Chivalry is NOT buying flowers or expensive gifts, flowers die and I’d gladly take food instead of something expensive that I have to pretend I like. Let’s be real guys, there are some women out there making twice your salary (not me, I’m broke AF) so I’m pretty sure wooing her with what you have isn’t chivalrous either.

Girls, re-evaluate if you think that’s what chivalry is. It’s 2017, c’mon.

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Listen, I have actually laughed when guys try to open my door. What is you doinn’? Dafuq? Did you get lost on the way to your car door? Do I need to Waze how to get to your car door? What’s cute to me is the initiative, not the act. The thought that you wanted to open my door, it’s the thought that counts. Once is fine, but all the time. Neh. It’s cool. Unless of course, my hands are full and I can’t open the door.

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Chivalry to me, is respect. Yeah, sounds simple right? ‘Cuz it fucking is. We don’t want anything from you but r-e-s-p-e-c-t. Chivalry is not embarrassing your girl by sleeping with every Radica, Premdaye and Sunita. It’s not cussing your girl and treating her like dirt, it’s certainly not laying a hand on her. It’s not ‘cat calling’ girls on the road. It’s not hitting on other girls when your girl is right there(or period). It’s not having a girl completely fall for you, tell her things when you guys are in private and then putting a huge spin on it to make her look like she’s crazy and chasing you. Be real, girls rarely chase a guy with no ‘current’ in return.

It’s taking her out and showing her that her panties aren’t your ultimate goal(at least not on the first date). It’s conversation, caring about what’s going on in her life, getting to know who she is. Being upfront with her if you don’t see something long term with her, a lot of girls are DTF these days too. IT’S 2017! You no longer have to ask for her hand in marriage to GT. I don’t speak for all girls here because I still need to hear ‘I wanna marry you’ before a guy can GT.

It’s offering her a hand in the kitchen, around the house. It’s not slandering her name if you break up to make yourself look better when more than likely you were wrong. It’s literally just being a decent human being, which men apparently need a code to adhere to for…

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I am not a feminist, I like when people think because I’m a girl I can’t do something. It makes it all the better when I show them that I can do it. By all means, carry my bags, do all the hard work that girls shouldn’t do…Fine. Respect, though, that shit I’d like some of and I applaud the handful of men that know how to speak to and treat women.

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So now, to address the burning question… Was Mr A chivalrous? No. Why did I stay? Because I loved him. Was that enough to make me stay? No. It wasn’t all bad with him. In his words, ‘when it’s good, it’s really good’, and that was true. That’s why I stayed.

I’m going to draw a reference I might later regret, however, it perfectly captures everything I felt. I imprinted on him. Fuck. I said it and there’s no turning back. Might as well go full Twilight and explain what it means to those of you who didn’t read the Twilight series.

It’s not like love at first sight, really. It’s more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It’s not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that’s a protector, or a lover, or a friend.

According to Stephenie Meyer, it’s involuntary. And that’s exactly how I felt…I didn’t choose that. It happened, my world changed. I changed.

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My life became him. His needs were mine to meet, his sorrows were mine to bear, his stresses, now mine. Stupid right? I know. Everyone in my life had now become secondary. All I cared about was Mr A and school, in that order. Nothing mattered.

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My rotation had come to a quick end and it was time to return home. We were both worried about the transition from ‘living’ together to being back home but we knew we were going to make it work…somehow. Maybe we could be normal…there’s a wild thought.

We continued seeing each other daily, without fail and without me ever asking. He would come to my house everyday after work. We would go to his home sometimes, because boys aren’t allowed in my room and he preferred having a bed to lie in(because girls are allowed in his room).

I never particularly liked being in a boy’s room in their parents’ house. I wasn’t raised that way. It made me uncomfortable knowing we were in his room, with the door locked, sleeping. Yes, sleeping. I was always tired yo, that’s what was going on behind those doors. I voiced these concerns to him,

“Doesn’t it look bad that we’re in your room and that I stay over? It just looks kinda bad. I know everyone you were with before did it but this is new to me and I don’t want your parents to think of me negatively.”

“Why would anyone have a problem if you’re lying in your future husband’s bed? I mean it when I say I’m going to marry you.”

SHOOKETH.

Well, guess who started spending nights at his house? Ding, ding, ding. You got it. This girl.

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Now you’re asking, what did your parents say? They were NOT pleased. I would constantly get into trouble, constantly butt heads, constantly be at war. Of course I told them I slept on his couch and never been to his room. (Oops. Busted. Sorry mommy and daddy, but hey, for what it’s worth, everything you ever said about that, you were right, and I’m NEVER abandoning what I know is right for some bullshit sweet talk ever again). At the time though, it didn’t matter. Why would they have a problem with me staying by my future husband? 

Typing the words makes me feel so stupid. Was I really that gullible? Jeez. With age does come wisdom. I can tell ya that.

He was my be-all and end-all. I was an obedient child my entire life, until I met him. I stopped listening to anyone but him. All the things I believed in, everything I stood for, down the drain. No one could get through to me. I can tell you my parents didn’t even know what to do because I was the only child that never gave them any trouble, and here I was, stubborn and setting myself up for the biggest hurt of my life.

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At the beginning of our relationship, this was the way he wanted it to be. Always spending time together, always spending nights together. I was never that way and still apprehensive to stay because I really did not want his family to have anything negative to say about me… Spoiler alert, it happened anyway. I didn’t want to upset him and I liked being around him, it became the norm. We had our routine down.

As time passed, in the later stages of our relationship, things started changing, but on his end. He never acted like he wanted me around and did it because he thought I would ‘get on’. Making it seem to everyone around him that I was unreasonable and was a beast. The reason I ‘got on’ with him was because I knew what the change in his attitude meant because he told me what the signs of him cheating were and what I should look out for. Anyway, put a pin in this point. I’m jumping the gun for this part of the story.

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We went to the movies almost every other day, him with his mozzarella sticks and chicken combo and me with my 007 with cheese. How we weren’t fatter is still a mystery. His Friday night ‘man time’ turned into ‘us time’. We stayed in almost every Friday night watching TV on his couch until our eyes burned, or until I fell asleep…I made no time for my friends or family, all of my spare time was his.

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If I had any doubts (which I didn’t) about how I felt at the time, the ultimate test was that he got me to touch under his feet. Anyone who knows me, knows that I ABSOLUTELY hate feet. It was pure torture doing a lower limb exam for me, or debriding toes. That shit, irks me…

He had this really weird, irregular patch of calcified skin under his foot and I was so determined to fix that, that I ped-egged him for the entire movie of Minions 2. Yes, I remember because I thought, ‘I’m touching his feet’. I also remember being wicked and sticking it really hard to see if there was any feeling, he didn’t budge. Total Mr Deeds moment.

Mr. Deeds: Chop That Wood .GIF by Bowser81889

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I always took studying seriously, I’d lock the entire world out and just isolate myself whenever I had to get in my zone. I had my method of studying that no one was ever able to break. There was a guy in my past who wanted to talk all the time and was upset when  I told him I couldn’t because I had to study and to this day I remember my response to him. ‘Love doesn’t pay the bills.’ *hangs up phone*

Where was that girl with Mr A? I was always in control in all my relationships prior to Mr A. I never allowed myself to fall too hard. I needed that strength with Mr A and I lost it…

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As upset as he’d be with me by the way I studied and neglected him, he had my back at times. It will be extremely unfair of me to paint Mr A in only a negative light.

Like I mentioned, he was good too…

I was an absolute mess the night before one of my practical exams. It happened that that night was the wake of one of his best friends. He was going through one of the hardest times of his life. I tried to be strong for him and I really wanted to be there with him but I couldn’t(I was by his side every night after that though)…I cracked and he knew it. Without me asking, Mr A left the wake and drove to my house to surprise me. He put his pain aside to make sure I was ok. He ran through every single exam with me until I felt confident enough.

He was always so good at trying to hide his feelings and acting like things didn’t bother him, to everyone else anyway. I held him when we finished studying. He kept his resolve. We spoke a little about what had happened to his friend. Him acting tough the entire time and me not trying to pressure him but letting him know I was there for when he was ready to talk…

It was a ritual for him to visit me the night before every exam to give me a ‘good luck hug and kiss’. I just didn’t expect him to follow through that night. It was one of the few times he put me before himself partly because I think he also just needed to get away from the reality of that situation. And he’d never know how much I appreciated that.

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Mr A would always talk about how he admired my drive to excel and would always say that I inspired him to be better. He wanted to do better for us and our future, and partly because I’d nag him sometimes about what further exams he was going to do. He finally signed up for an exam and he’d tell me that it was because of me. It was my turn to return the favor.

Lemme tell you, Mr A is brilliant. I don’t care what anyone says. He had a natural ability, he could put the least effort into anything and still come out on top. It was admirable and perfect for his personality. Getting him to sit down to focus was the hardest thing ever. He was the most distracted person I’d ever met. I would sit with him and I would also study so he could be less distracted and within 10 minutes he needed a nap…

Image result for nap gif

I tried to push him but he was also extremely stubborn. I know I became a nag about when he was going to study. Closer to the exams, I told him we needed to see each other less, and he’d call to tell me how much he needed to see me to focus. Of course, I missed him like shit and I wanted to see him just as much as he did. Even when I told him to study, he found himself by me. He reminded me of myself when I had exams. All that ‘bad boy’ disappeared and he was a complete baby.

His exam was in Jamaica, and the night before he left, I wrote him a ‘good luck’ note and slipped it to him. He seemed so appreciative at the time, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me…” Those words reverberated in my head.

He called me from Jamaica, sheer panic in his voice. ‘I don’t think I’m ready, I don’t think I’m going to pass these exams.’ I felt so helpless being miles away from him but I did my best to pacify him over the phone. He regained his composure shortly after. Put back on the façade that nothing bothered him. I hung up feeling uneasy.

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My biggest fear was that his parents thought it was my fault that God forbid he didn’t succeed in his exams… ‘The girl distracting you, she’s a distraction’. Little did they know that I was the one nagging him to study.

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The more we went through trials like those, we realized how much of a unit we had become. It was us against the world… For a while anyway.

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This was short lived when his sister burst my bubble. ‘Girl, lemme be real with you, he’s my brother and I love him but he’s an asshole. He was this exact way with everyone before you at the start. This is what he does…’

Nah, she had to be wrong…Maybe he was that way. He can’t be so good at faking all of this. Right? I felt my chest constrict. I had to ask him…Of course he justified himself and told me it had been different with us…which I believed…

Until I realized she was so right…

I’ve seen it for myself now. Not once but TWICE…