Meet The X

I have not yet touched on the subject of the Xhusband. Where to begin? He hated crows.

He saw himself as a red tailed hawk, and whenever he saw a hawk being chased by a group of crows, I always knew he was thinking about how much he was annoyed by me. He blamed me for everything that went wrong in his life. We had a farm. If there was a drought, it was my fault. Truly! Ask me how I know this, and I will tell you. Listen. I was far out in the field, harvesting beautiful purple-black eggplants. How I loved those eggplants. How I loved that farm, that land, that beautiful, beautiful place. I thought I would live there forever. Anyway, I reached out to cut an eggplant and put it in the basket, when I saw in my peripheral vision a shining figure of white light. And as I saw this, I heard a voice talking. The voice told me the shining being was the Xhusband's double, and that double of his was stalking me. Because he meant to kill me, he hated me that much. He hated me that much and blamed me for all the things that went wrong in his life. That's how crazy it was and it made me really crazy. I think my crazy, though, was a matter of being touched by spirits, of opening up to the spirit world. I know the spirits love me. I think they have watched over me all my life. But it is hard to know that at the time when the emotions are so painful, and the world becomes so scary. When you live with mean people, yet again. I had my second breakdown during those hard, hard years. And what he considered my weakness only gave him more ammunition to use against me. He liked to kick me when I was down. A big man like him. So sad really.

I did not try to annoy him. If it had not been me, it would have been someone else. He is primed to hate his intimate partner eventually. He is a very damaged man. With the distance of 9 years away from him between us, I can say I am capable of feeling a shred of compassion for that hurting man. But when I lived close, no. When I lived close, I was trying to save my own life. He was the enemy. At first, he was John Smith. I was the beautiful Pocahontas. But as time went on, he became the Lone Ranger. I was Tonto. And as further time went on, he was General Custer. I was any Lakota warrior.

It was 9 years ago this weekend I moved out of that house. Remind me to tell you another time how many years it took me to build up my courage to leave, and who helped me, and how. Remind me of this. Here. I will give you a taste of that tale, so you will remember to help me remember:

One time he was standing in the kitchen, being very mean, doing that pissy mean thing he always did, trashing my life, my self, my decisions, tastes and opinions. Nothing was ever right enough for him, or good enough for him, and he was killing me slowly, hitting me where I live, trashing my very self. He was standing there talking that mean talk and suddenly I saw beside him, plain as day, two Native American men. They had greying hair in long braids. They were slender and graceful. They wore plaid flannel shirts and jeans. He didn't see them. They were there for me. And they were looking at him and pointing at him and laughing their asses off at him. Bending over in laughter, wiping the tears from their eyes in laughter. And suddenly I saw too, what an asshole this Xhusband was, what a laughable, puffed up fool. And I thanked my native Brothers, my Uncles, my relatives there howling in laughter and showing me the truth of that sorry man. They gave me power.

Sometimes he called me snake, when he did not like what I was saying to him. He called me snake and he would grab the back of my neck and force me to the floor and grind my face into the floor. He said I had to be restrained. If only I had had the power of snake to slither out of his hands, to turn and bite him. But I am not a snake. And he would hurt my neck. It would take many days to heal. Just like my step-father, he thought he could silence me. But I have always spoken truth to power, even when it is foolhardy to do so. I am not quite so brave anymore. Or not quite so foolish, maybe.

Until next time, I remain, your friend, Rozenkraai