Blame It On Me (The Jimmy Saga)
“You can get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled as I immediately rose to my feet. “See, I knew you would get upset and say that.” Jimmy responded with a sarcastic chuckle. He removed himself from my bed and onto the floor. He reached down and pulled his shorts that lay sloppily by the bed. I marched over to the light switch and turned it on for no reason at all. I went out into the hallway and turned that light on as well, then into the living room and turned that light on too. I was pissed. Jimmy and I were having an argument, but this time it got serious; there were not enough apologies in the world that would fix this argument, none. I walked back into my bedroom and watched him as he completed his dressing, I scowled at him, pure mad black woman oozing from my pores, but there was hurt in my eyes, I'm sure. I swallowed to try and remove the lump that seemed to magically appear in my throat. I rushed back into the living room and Jimmy followed behind, he proceeded to place his boots upon his feet. I sat on my love seat and he sat on the sofa.
He stringed up his shoes and somehow words began to flow from our mouths, not the same bitter twisted ones that had escaped moments earlier while we lay across my bed. “I felt like what just took place was childish and didn’t need to be that way.” I said to him dryly but honestly. “Nope – I feel like that needed to happen, it had to be this way.” He responded coldly. I didn’t understand him, he wasn’t familiar and I had a strange sense that I wasn't familiar to him either. He was seething, he was attempting to hide it, but we both were. My voice trembled, half out of anxiety and half out of the cold night air that seemed to find its way inside of my apartment. The argument that ensued in the bedroom was mean, cutthroat and spineless, we’d never spoken to one another that way. Shit was getting real, and real fast. Shots were being fired left and right between us, nothing being spoken directly, most being used metaphorically.
I implied that there were tons of acting being done on my part in the relationship, how he truly wasn't my type and the guys in my life before him and currently were way better, he implied that his new single life was much better, that the women in his life looked promising and it really didn't matter to him one way or the other. We stared at one another almost to replay the argument or mentally pinch ourselves to ensure that what was happening was real. I felt as if I was in somewhat of a dream state and needed to wake up. “You are so arrogant BB.” He said with a bitterness that reminded me of Omar Epps’ character from the movie Love and Basketball. “Yeah, about certain stuff of course. The difference between me and any other girl is that despite what I've been through, I’m always consistent about mine.” I shot back at him. “Yeah, well. This is the way all of my relationships end. I told you that when we first met. I get her to get mad at me and then I’m done and choose not to hear from them ever again. I’m starting to believe that love isn’t for me.”
I immediately felt sorry for Jimmy. Most of my studying and meditating I’ve been doing since our breakup has centered on love, not just the love you get from a relationship, but it was being able to recognize the love in any and everything. I had been practicing that, so to hear him say that hurt me a little. I didn’t want him to feel that love wasn’t for him just because he’s had a few rocky relationships. “Since we are being truthful, I thought I’d tell you about what was really going on that night right before we broke up.” I took a deep breath and began to listen to him spill some mess about an ex girlfriend and her birthday. I barely listened to what he was saying. My stomach was doing flips and I suddenly saw our entire relationship flash before my eyes. Damn, how could I have not saw this coming, I asked myself. I tuned Jimmy out as I thought of a time that I felt I wasn't truthful with him and thought to tell him, but decided against it. I interrupted him for no reason other than to quiet the sound of his voice as it began to make me nauseous. “Wait, there is more to the story, remember you were wondering where I was for that week.” My heart began to pound in my chest, I didn’t want to know, nor did I care. I was afraid to know, afraid that I may lose my cool depending on what he was going to tell me.
I lifted my head to the ceiling and thought of my mother, she thought Jimmy was a nice enough guy, just never understood my attraction to him – I wonder if this was the reason. I checked back into the conversation only to stand in defiance of hearing whatever lie or truth he was about to share. It didn’t matter, because he and I were done, that has always been the point I’d been trying to make. I no longer even called Jimmy anymore, had he not realized that I was trying to wean myself from our obvious toxic mess? However, with his lie/truth he was pulling me in where I didn’t want to be, I wanted to be done with all this madness, I wanted to forget this nightmare of Jimmy and I and move forward with my life. I felt the strange urge to get down in the Yoga downward dog position which always seemed to calm me, but I decided against it. Somehow I convinced Jimmy to not divulge his secret and to keep it to himself, one reason to keep me sane and another to keep me from divulging any of mine. “It’s been fun.” I said wickedly to him while staring him in his now dark and tired peepers. “Yup, it has.” He responded. He got up from the couch and brought me into his arms, I wanted to be any place but there. I couldn’t believe that this was happening and this way. It was like breaking up all over again, I wanted nothing to do with it. “I will pray for you” he said as I pushed the door closed upon him, our relationship, and the cold air.