It wasn’t always like this. There was a time where Jason was tender with me, loving even. But when I started to make demands of him, that’s when things changed. When I started expecting to him to acknowledge his love for me, he began to distance himself. Except that he couldn’t distance himself from me. So instead of letting me go, leaving me to live my own life, he began to hate me, resenting everything that he had once loved about me. And for Jason, extreme resentment and extreme love were not a good combination.
“Jason, please. Let me go.” He loosens his grip, but doesn’t remove his hands.
Loose, effortless tears begin to roll out of my eyes.
“Aw, you pissy baby. Why’re you cryin’?”
“It’s ‘cause you’re squeezing my head. It hurts.”
“It hurts?” he mimics me sarcastically. “You didn’t care about pain before, what makes you care now, huh?”
He keeps squeezing. I feel a mosquito on my thigh, sucking my blood and I want to shake my leg to get it off of me, but I don’t want Jason to think that I’m trying to kick him. I’m afraid of what he might do.
“Jason, please,” I beg. He doesn’t seem to hear me. I keep shaking my head, trying to throw him off of me, but it isn’t working. Jason is twice my height, and even though he’s slim, I feel the weight of him crushing my pelvic bone.
“It’s almost midnight,” I say.
“You think I give a fuck?”
“The last bus leaves at 12:30 and I have to go home.” Jason is still looking at me, pure amusement displaying across his handsome face.
He squeezes my head harder as he kisses me roughly on the lips, forcing his tongue into my mouth.
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Oh, yeah?” I say as I try to sound brave through my tears. It’s not working.
“Yeah, baby,” he says as he kisses me again. This time, I feel his erection pressing against me. He has me pinned against the ground kissing me so hard that my lips go numb. Usually I get turned on by his erratic behavior, the wild way in which he handles me. But this time, I’m afraid – afraid of what emotion might come to him next.
“I love you, and I want you right now,” he says. “So, “I’m gonna fuckin’ have you.”
He removes his left hand from the side of my face. Before I can break free, he pushes his hand under my shirt and grabs my breast, squeezing it until I hear a pop. I feel the white-hot pain like lightening bolts, shooting out my breast and throughout my body. I can’t help but to squeeze my eyelids shut, I want to keep fighting this battle with Jason, but I can’t. I give up. My breast is numb and throbbing at the same time, completely engulfed in both fire and ice. I didn’t know that God could create such a contradiction.
I use my last bit of dignity to pull my face away from his. “If Ion’t get to the bus-stop now, I’ma miss my bus. I’mma have to stay at your house.”
I feel his erection grow softer. He slowly raises his head away from mine. I can see the hesitancy on his face.
My tears aren’t loose anymore, they’re violent. They’re burning my eyes and stinging my cheeks. He leans down over me again, softly this time, gently kissing my neck.
“You don’t love me, Jason,” I say through the tears and snot that are on my face. “I’m only an idea to you.”
Against my neck, I can feel his jaw clench.
“I am, Jason,” I cry. “I’m only an idea to you. I’m nothing, Jason. I’m just an idea.”
“Shh baby, don’t cry. Don’t cry baby,” he says as he tenderly kisses me below my ear.
It suddenly enrages me.
“Get the fuck off of me, Jason, Get the fuck off of me, I hate you!” I’m yelling as loud as I can, thrashing my body beneath him. At first he tries to calm me. He keeps kissing my neck, gently rubbing my breast, the one he almost tore out of my chest.
Eventually he gives up. “Fine,” he snaps, pushing my head away from him as he gets up, forcing my face into the dirt. As he rolls off of me, I stand up before he can change his mind. I place my hand over my back-pocket to make sure my cellphone and keys are safe inside. They are. I look back down at Jason as he settles back into his prior position; laying flat on his back, hands crossed over his chest, head to they sky.
I look at his almond shaped eyes, his strong nose, and those cheekbones that I love. I feel the mud from the ground on my face. I’m too tired to wipe it off, too exhausted to care how I look anymore. My clothes are covered in sweat, grass and dirt. Jason has stained me so that no one else will want me but him. As I walk away from him, I can think of nothing else but the sky, the peacefully haunting sky.
As the adrenaline leaves my body, I feel the welts on my face stinging and the pain in my legs throbbing. That’s the thing about my life with Jason. I never know how bad he has hurt me until I start to walk away. Our meetings in the park are killing me. Slowly, limb by limb.
But they mean nothing to Jason.
They are enough to fulfill him – the kisses under the stars, the arguments, the silent agreement between us keeps Jason at bay, allowing him to have only the parts of me that he wants. But the thought of me as something more, as a human, a real blood-pumping human with other concerns, destroys the fantasy home that he has me locked inside of. I weep silently to myself trying to figure out how the face of an angel can have a soul so black, a soul so devoid of empathy.
I wonder if he can see through the clear stars into the blue universe the way that he can see past my skin and into my soul, living out my worst fears and my greatest desires, manipulating the nucleus in each and everyone of my cells.
“I fucking hate you, Jason,” I say with my back to him, walking slower than I think towards my exit. “I hate you more than you know.”
“I hate you too, bitch,” he says back. “Call me when you get home.”
© 2016 Blossom Kelley-Washington