The Ex Chronicles of J.L. Sapphire #1

A few days ago, I posted that a short story I submitted to Brown Girls Publishing was accepted to be a part of The Ex Chronicles Anthology. I- along with 19 other talented authors- will bring to you short tales about breaking up, making up, and/or hooking up with significant other's, parents, siblings, friends and frienemies, bosses, whoever. 

So, in anticipation of the book, which will be available for pre-order on February 12th and available wherever books are sold on March 8th, I've decided to share some of my ex chronicles...the good, the horribly bad, and the ugly truths I've learned from them. I think I'll start with my most recent..my divorce- which was finalized this past November. 

I met my ex husband back in 2007, completely by accident. I had just recently gotten out of a very bad abusive relationship (I'll write about that one later) and after nearly being strangled to death by the man who claimed to love me so much, I'd decided that maybe I needed to take some time away from the dating scene and just be single for a while. When I was younger, I was that girl who immediately went climbing the rungs of the ladder to the next man as soon as I broke it off with another guy. I had the notion that I couldn't be single (society talks so bad about single women) and maybe even a part of me wanted to make the guy jealous by seeing me with another man. But fighting for my life in that bedroom that day had me not thinking about a man for a good eight months. I had never been so happy to be single and FREE, and not have to answer to anybody in my life.

My baby sister was staying with me for a while, and she worked at a fast food restaurant. It was the middle of summer in Arkansas, and if you've never endured a summer in the south...thank your lucky stars, because it was HOT. We only lived a few blocks from where she worked, but because the air had decided to go out in my car, I was sweating like crazy; so I told her to go inside and bring me a cold glass of ice water. When she came back, she says, "This boy standing in the drive-thru window wants you to back up so he can talk to you." I gave her that look, that clearly said, "Girl, I ain't hardly checking for a man who works at KFC," not because of where he worked, but because I'd been in there before and none of the male workers seemed to be my type. But I thought, "What the hell."  I put the car in reverse and backed up to the window. He says, "Oh, I just wanted to see what you looked like." What the hell kind of pick up line is that? What you mean, what I look like? Boy, bye. I left. A few hours later, my sister texts me- Do you want me to give this boy your number? Lord only knows why I texted back- I don't care. His pick up line was corny as hell, but he wasn't bad looking and although I was enjoying my newfound freedom, some of those hot summer nights got a little lonely. And so it began.

He texted (not called) me two nights later and the first thing he sent was- Hey chick! I got him straight real fast by telling him I don't like to be referred to as a chick. He called me Lady all the way up until we would divorce in 2015. I should have known that when he'd told me he was just getting out of a five year relationship to keep right on moving. I will say, he was charming in the beginning. But, I noticed that his "ex" kept popping up everywhere. I would later find out he was still driving her to and from work because she didn't have a car. I made it clear to him that I wasn't about to play side-chick and if he was still dealing with her, to let me know. He insisted he wasn't. He was still insisting that he wasn't still seeing her when she jumped (yes jumped) me in the parking lot of his job a few months later when I went to pick him up from work, because he'd gotten a D.U.I. and his license were suspended (another red flag that I ignored) I could literally fill an entire novella with the many wild and crazy things that occurred during my time with him, like how another one of his exes decided to show up at his family's church (his grandparents are pastor and first lady and every other member of his family plays some role in the church) to introduce herself to his mom...and to be messy by having her twenty-something  year old daughter keep turning around (they were in the pew in front of us) to whisper things to him in his ear during the church service. When I'd had enough of the blatant disrespect (he actually kept engaging her in conversation as if I wasn't sitting there) I leaned forward and whispered so they could both hear me, "Why don't you move up there and talk to her so she can turn her ass around and face the front, because the church service ain't back here." She turned around and didn't turn back around anymore. I side-eyed him so hard, he knew I was mad. I had to say a silent prayer, "Lord, forgive me for cussing up in Your house, but she had it coming." It really took an act of Jesus for me to keep my cool that day in that church house. 

In spite of all the red flags that I'd seen, I still married him when he finally asked me to...FOUR YEARS LATER, and this was after he'd asked me to marry him once before, then called it off a month prior to the wedding, because he claimed he had too many bills...as if he didn't have those bills when he'd initially asked me. The embarrassment I felt having to return the wedding items I'd bought wasn't nearly as embarrassing as calling my mama and telling her the wedding was off. "Aw, girl, he just got cold feet," she'd told me. "No, he's for real, he doesn't want to marry me now, all of a sudden." Evidently, he had a change of heart, because months later, he would mumble off what sounded like another proposal on Valentine's Day (he didn't get down on one knee and proposed with a CZ ring, that wasn't even an engagement ring) I was like, "Whatever!" I didn't allow myself to get excited, because I was expecting him to change his mind...again. 

I stayed married to him for four and a half years. I won't say he's a really bad man, he's just not the man I wanted to keep pretending to be happily married to anymore. My parents were married for over 30 years..that's the kind of marriage I wanted. I did't want to be another statistic- divorced less than five years of marriage. I'd let him get away with his mediocre treatment of me, so he never really tried to make me feel special as his wife. Sure, he did nice things here and there, told me he loved me often, but his actions often said otherwise. I realized that low self-esteem, not knowing my worth, and simply being embarrassed is why I stayed with him for so many years. With all the drama that I'd dealt with from his six (6) exes in the four years prior to us getting married- the confrontation, cheating accusations- I felt like I'd better marry him and stay with him, or else I went through all of that mess for absolutely nothing. On Facebook, I hyped our marriage up like we were running neck and neck with President Obama and First Lady Michelle, in the romance department. I had to...just in case one of his many "exes" was lurking in the background, trying to see what we were up to. I wanted to make sure I gave them plenty to look at and a reason to dislike me. So, I made him seem like the world's greatest husband, all the while knowing I was living a lie and was nowhere near as happy as I seemed to be. I seemed to be going backwards (letting another man run over me) and we weren't moving forward. 

Over the last year and a half or so, he'd started becoming really distant, staying gone a lot (and not at work). The time we used to spend together dwindled down to birthday's and anniversaries. Sex...there was none. He was showing all the tell-tale signs of a man who was cheating. I've been down that road many times before, and all men act the same when they're creeping. It got to a point where I found myself wanting to check his phone (when he forgot to take it in the bathroom with him when he took a shower like he'd started doing) My gut intuition was giving off strong vibes that he was layin' it low, and spreadin' it wide (in the words of Tamar Braxton's mom, Evelyn). I got tired of pretending to be happy; tired of turning my head the other way, pretending not to notice that it took him 3 hours to go to Walmart, when it's only two minutes from our home. It was clear that he wanted to be free, and I wasn't willing to waste anymore of my time either, so I told him we could split the cost of filing the divorce papers. Rather than say, "What you mean, divorce papers?" his response was, "No that's okay; I'll pay for it." Oh okay, since he was so willing, I let him go right ahead. We had the fastest separation and divorce I've ever seen. I told him to file the papers in September- two weeks after my 37th birthday- and by November 18th, I was officially divorced. And I haven't regretted it, not one day since. I felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders, because deep down, I know I should have never ever dated him past the first month or so back when I met him in 2007..let alone married him. 

While I'm looking for a new place to live, I'm still in the same house with him. I don't hate him, but I don't love him (like that) anymore either. I am happily single, and for the first time ever, I'm not looking to replace him with another man any time in the near future. I's free now and I love it. Growth had made me see that there's absolutely nothing wrong with being single if you're not being treated the way you want and deserve to be treated. I settled because I thought I couldn't get better. Settling has caused me to waste nine years of my life that I can't get back. Ain't nobody got time for that.