Woman's Cry. Vanessa Martir

Admittedly, I was nonetheless getting a topnotch education that would open doors for me in the future but I always wondered what life would have been like had I stayed in Cambridge and followed my lifelong aspiration. Instead, I had opted to follow my heart and here I was sulking in a tub, recovering from a miscarriage and the damage Fabian had inflicted on my body but my emotional scars ran far deeper than any of the superficial wounds.

      I inhaled deeply hoping that the juniper aroma of the bath salts would serve to cleanse my spirit. My efforts were once again futile. Despite my attempts, my mind continued to wander back to the past.

      I resentfully recalled the many times I had compromised myself and my beliefs for the sake of my love for an undeserving man. I couldn’t count how many times he had played me, often right in front of my face. He’d even brought a girl to our home claiming she was an old friend. I befriended her, smoked Ls with her and talked to her, only to find out months later that she was actually one of his many lovers. Each and every time I discovered an infidelity, I vowed to leave him but each and every time, I took him back.

      I became so insecure and distraught that I convinced myself that if I shared in his passion for other women, it would be easier to deal with, that he wouldn’t then have to go do it behind my back. So I proposed a threesome. Naturally he jumped at the invitation. I remembered clearly how revolted I felt the first time I saw him fuck another woman, so much so that in the middle it I had to run to the bathroom to vomit. I realized then and there that the way he fucked me was no different from the way he fucked all the other women he’d been with. For the longest time, I held on to the illusion that only I could spark such zeal and tenderness in him but that night, watching him kiss and caress that female, I saw that I had only been fooling myself.

      The problem was that once I did it, I couldn’t go back. Fabian demanded threesomes regularly. I was so asfixiada, so entregada that I obliged. I numbed myself with drugs and alcohol and did what he wanted, when he wanted. I sucked his dick while he ate an unfamiliar pussy. I performed felatio on a stranger while he fucked me from behind. Later, once the euphoria of the drugs had worn off, I would cry in the bathroom, running the shower so that he wouldn’t hear my pitiful howls.

      I often wondered how it was I was able to attend school fulltime and actually maintain an impressive GPA but, come what may, I did. Somehow I would zone out my pain and heartache and concentrate on the work at hand. I felt sometimes like school was my escape, the one place where I could free my soul of the manacles that was my obsession with Fabian. Despite how vulnerable and insecure I felt, the one thing I depended on was my drive and dedication to my schooling and academic future. I always promised myself that I’d never let anything get in the way of my education. That was my one consolation - that I hadn’t compromised my studies for anything or anyone.

      I was only two months away from receiving my bachelor’s degree. I vowed silently to myself that I would graduate on time, even if it killed me.

       10

      I jumped out of the bath. I had fifteen minutes to make it to my Writing Class. It didn’t matter that the doctor in the ER had given me a note permitting me another day of respite. I had to go to class if I wanted to graduate on time. I ignored the stitch of pain in my front as I changed quickly into a Juicy sweat suit and ran out the door. As I sped to class, scanning the block for any signs of Fabian, I turned on my cell for the first time since being released from the hospital. My voicemail signal rang immediately, startling me so that I almost tripped. I put off hearing my messages knowing it was Fabian calling. I just wasn’t ready to take that on. Instead, I called my best friend, James.

      “What up, nena? I’ve been calling you. Why’d you have your phone off? Are you okay?” asked James nervously. James was all too aware of my abusive relationship. I didn’t tell him everything but I shared enough for him to know that the partnership was unhealthy. Many times he’d lectured me about how I was selling myself short. He’d remind me of the bright future I had ahead of me and warned that Fabian was the only obstacle in my path. Simply put, I deserved better, there was no denying that.

      “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said almost inaudibly.

      “Liar!” James knew me well enough to know when something was wrong. We’d met during our first year at CU and had become immediate friends. Of course Fabian disapproved of our friendship due to his irrational jealousy but I had maintained the closeness in spite of Fabian’s condemnation. “Come through. Let’s smoke an L and talk,” James offered.

      “I have to go to class. I’ll call you when I get out,” I replied with moistening eyes.

      I was relieved to find that class had been cancelled. I was surprised because Professor Daines was known for holding class even if she was running a high fever and coughing up a lung. I immediately felt guilty when one of my classmates informed me that Professor Daines had sprained her ankle on her way to class.

      “I hope she’s okay,” I mused worriedly.

      Professor Daines was my favorite professor at Columbia. I’d taken a writing class with her every semester since my freshman year. I loved the way she challenged me and demanded perfection and would call a student out if she saw that they were half-assing their work. I admired the way she brought out the best in her students. She wasn’t just my professor, she was my mentor. She was the one that had put it into my head that I should consider a career in writing. Although I hadn’t confessed to her that I was in a sadistic relationship, Professor Daines had picked up on it in my writing. “All fiction has a basis in reality,” she often said. The professor didn’t pry but always assured me that if I needed someone to talk to or anything at all, I could always feel comfortable coming to her.