Post 14
Are you there Satan? It’s me, Morganne.
Going back to my previous issue, where I was complaining and
ranting about how he didn’t give a single care in the world about how I must have
been feeling without him, and what my babies felt like without him, because he
was way too caught up in stressing over you and that needle, to even open his
eyes and see what was going on around him. I don’t think you get it, Satan.
While I’m at home, can barely get out of bed, barely take a deep breath on my
own, could sleep in about 45-minute increments, and was going crazy on the inside
out of utter heartache, and the sadness I felt was consuming my every move and
emotion, one at a time. Well, while I’m grieving, this kid is asking me to cash
app individuals out here on the streets, so that they then can get the money to
their “person on the inside” where then he will be giving my boyfriend drugs, in
order for him not to be sick or to make the sickness at least somewhat subside.
I have never in my lifetime met these people, nor did I ever want to.
I was left with two cigarettes, zero dollars, zero change, “no
EXTRAS for me”, and no plate on my car. He’s not even asking me for the transfer
of money at this point. He’s demanding it. It was no longer a request, it wasn’t
an option. So, I figured it out, as he knew I would. I was alone, mother was at this point overly disgusted and
angry at the two of us for prior situations that occurred within that week of
him being arrested, so she wasn’t talking to me, AT ALL. I couldn’t ask her for
a dime, let alone money for Jake to get high in jail. She probably would’ve
kicked me out if I did. My sister didn’t talk to me much either, along with my
dad or my grandparents. So at night time, when I’d do a little more than usual,
ready to take on the freaking world, it would dawn on me, that because of you,
I couldn’t. I would lay there in Julian Jordon’s bed, arms wrapped all the way around
him, sobbing uncontrollably, begging God to take me in my sleep, because there was
no way anything could ever POSSIBLY hurt this bad, the way I hurt then.
My heart couldn’t take any more pain, my blood pressure sitting
at a consistent 155/108, AT REST, feeling completely defeated, empty, and
alone. I would’ve given my soul on those nights, to just have peace of mind… my
skin crawled, my whole body ached, and I felt like I was dying slowly, from the
inside out. I could’ve sworn to you then, that no one had ever cried as much as
I did that first month he was gone. My eyes stayed bloodshot, I slept maybe 15
hours every four days, and my migraines only got more severe and more
unbearable. My heart, you see, I’m not sure it’s ever been the same. I was
afraid of my own shadow and afraid of my own potential. I was afraid of myself. I
had no clue what I was about to do, and in my own thoughts, going through this
type of pain, I think I was more fearful for my “what if I” questions that raced
through my head at all hours of the night. No one really comprehended the
damage this had done to me, nor did anyone care to ask. No one knew what went through
my head, or what I was capable of. Not a good combination, if you ask me.
Just wanted to thank you, because now aside from my two
babies, I care about NOTHING. I officially feel NOTHING. I am NUMB. And that’s
the way I preferred it. Nothing and no one could hurt me at this point. Nothing
could possibly break me, nor could anyone even make it to the gate of my force
field around anything inside of me that feels, cares, or matters in the
slightest. I swore to myself that night that no one ever would. EVER again.
I may have been alone in the world, with absolutely nothing
or no one, but I had what I needed all along. I had me. I knew what love was,
and I knew that he was the only one I’d ever love that way again. So, I put my
feelings for the human race behind the icebox, for the day he was released, put my big girl boots on, and got ready for a new chapter. (Not one without him,
I refused to live without him. He needed me, as much as I needed him. He would’ve
done 10 life sentences for me, then, and I’d be crazy if I didn’t do the same
for him. So, in it for the long haul, I put emotions completely away, erased,
ignored, and locked shut, for better days, and said “here goes nothing”.)
I’ll pick up again, in my next letter, Satan.
As usual,
Morganne
