I Used Pepper to Take It Back

I knew what I was doing when I wrote “Spicy Revenge.” It was not that MeTo had made me angry to the point of really wanting to commit murder, just that I was fed up trying to explain myself to him. The hurt and disrespect was in abundance when it came from him. I used to have a list of pros and cons and all the cons with the exception of maybe two were extremely superficial. But after the past year my con list had gotten so long and everyone I went to for advice could not help but agree this guy was not seeing the picture.

I stood by him during everything, getting his PhD, breaking up with the guy he should not have been with, ignoring me for three day straight when I needed him, his nightmares from childhood events, his thinking he had HIV and even going back to school again. All I asked for was a 60 second phone call saying that he loved me or a text saying, “thinking about you, will call you when I can.” Instead I got phone calls complaining and days where I did not hear from him at all and months of him not visiting. I thought maybe I was doing something wrong and that my friends were being blast.  

I asked his aunt and she agreed that he was being unfair, I asked other people who I thought would be more on his side than mine and they too agreed he was simply unfair. So it finally came down to the point where I no longer wanted to be in a relationship that made me sad, that made me wake up and frown at the sun and reach for my chest in hopes that the touch of my own hand would ease the pain of my heavy heart.

I called him three times suggesting we take a break or break up and he convinced me each time that he would try harder only to resume life as usual the next day and no change or effort shown for weeks and so I gave him an ultimatum. I told him to change things by mid-July or we were done and mid-July came and went and it was the end of July I called things off. Suddenly he was full of grief begging me not to call things off, I had to break up with him via text because he never answered his phone claiming to be too busy but now he had hours to waste calling me and telling me I was being unreasonable that he was still dealing with the first time I broke up with him.

He dated another person in that time and then used said person to break my trust and then did nothing to try and rebuild that trust. I was shocked that when I pleaded for change he did nothing but he was asking for yet another chance in his own way and because it was denied I was at fault.

And so I stood my ground and refused to take him back. For the rest of the summer friends and family asked if I would ever take him back and I told them if I am single when he is finished school then I would think about it then.

The summer continued with him asking me back he even managed to find time to come visit and take me out. During his visit it started great but I soon saw the old him the one that could not just have fun for a night, he counted every dime that was spent. I did not hold it agents him but I refused to allow myself to jump right back in.

Soon our so called friendship was maintained via text and Facebook; one would think as I was still paying his cell phone he would call once in a while. He then called when he was ready to upgrade his phone which required that I change my entire plan, but because I made him a promise I felt obligated to stand by it. The new plan had each line costing $80. He only gave me thirty for his even when I was struggling to pay the bill he refused to pay more than 80 and when the phone was cut off until I had the money to pay the bill he went to the store and takes his number off. There was an oversight on my part he was still an administrator on the account from when we were engaged and without telling me, he was legally able to take his number.

So now I lost my upgrade, was stuck with a reconfigured cell phone plan and a past due bill for two phones. I never got an apology just an excuse that he could not go without a phone. It hurt deeply because he knew I had rent, phone bill, transportation, tuition, and all the other bills an adult has to pay all on my own without help and he only had transportation to pay.

He continued to send text proclaiming his love and I asked him to stop, that I was angry with him and needed time to get over that anger. He refused to give me any time; he sent text and messages on Facebook.

Then I made it to my limit. I had gotten to the point where I was dating again and things were friendly with MeTo and I. things were good for a month and then he starts sending text that he misses me and wants to see me and that he was going to come down to see me soon. Things that I knew were unrealistic because I knew his schedule. I asked him to stop making promises he could not keep. I still had feelings for him and he seemed to pray on that hopping I would take him back.

So I called him out. I told him not to contact me unless he had time to finish a conversation. He began attacking my character and I was left defending myself. I became angry that he continued this back and forth via Facebook and text. How could he not have the decency to call? I told him to stop texting me it is disrespectful.

When I tried to call him nothing, and after talking to a friend it dawned on me I wanted him to feel how he made me feel. For a whole year he said one thing but his actions made me feel cheap, used, and worthless. What do you do with something that is useless? You throw it away or if it’s a person you kill them.

In my heart of hearts I did not want MeTo dead I wanted him to fell that I felt he was worthless and so a murder fantasy he would surly read. I knew if he read it he would hate me but it was more important for me to lose him forever feeling how he made me feel than for us getting back together and taking the fact that he was forgiven lightly.

Last night MeTo left me a message and at the end he insulted me. When I tried calling him back no answer. I tired several times today and after maybe 7 calls a text, “I read you most recent blog, were done.” He does not want to be with someone who can write such a violent story about him. And so here is my defense.

When you are told not to poke the bear, or get in his cadge, or to approach him it is with good reason. I warned MeTo that my feelings towards him were making me unstable. He blamed it all on me and told me to go deal with it. All I ever wanted was for him to just say, “I am sorry I hurt you, Sorry that I did not treat you how I said you deserved to be treated.” I kept getting excuses and him asking me to take him back. I loved him to the point I put myself at risk and he could never just give a simple apology. He never stopped to ask if I was ok before sending his text which managed to arrive while I was on a date or being told that I no longer had a job. He never made it so I could just deal with what was on my plate he had to add more, the emotions of him hurting me because what he had to deal with was more important than his boyfriend or as he put it “The man who has his heart forever.”

I suffered from low self-esteem and he waited till after I corrected that to treat me how I used to think I deserved to be treated with his parents and brother backing him up. And so my story was a safe way to make them all pay for the hurt while never actually hurting them or experiencing the unthinkable.  

I am not sorry that I wrote the story, I am sorry that I fell in love with Dr. MeTo, because no matter how hard I try I cannot erase him from my heart, not even with pepper. 

Spicy Revenge

My husband was borne to play the role. To everyone we were the perfect couple but I knew that the farce could not last forever. My husband was so convincing that at times I thought that he honestly believed we were happy. I gave indications that I was unhappy but he chose to ignore them. And so I devised a plan that would release me from this sorry excuse of a marriage once and for all.

There was one thing my husband could not resist no matter how angry he was with me and that was my cooking. Time spent in the kitchen was the only happy time I had. It was where I could create masterpieces that allowed me to shine. I could go in the kitchen with the sole intention to bake cookies and before I knew it friends would be invited over and a party would commence because I got carried away.

My time in the kitchen and the parties that it created are what made me grin and bear the horrible marriage. One may ask why I hated my husband so intensely and the answer is simple, no matter how much I elaborated on how I felt and how the things he did hurt me, his actions never aligned with his words. He would apologize and proclaim his love for me but when I needed him, he was never there. When he needed me I moved heaven and earth to be there and if I failed to do so he would use every word he could think of to try and make me feel guilty.

So to the kitchen I went and devised several meals for the week based on is likes. It was how I started every Sunday. I then put together my shopping list and went to A&P. on my return home I began cooking Sunday dinner. His parents were coming over and as I was mixing and sautéing he came in to ask when I was going to do the laundry. I had failed to do the laundry the day before because I was in bed with a migraine headache. I typically do laundry Fridays after work but it was a rough week so instead of coming straight home I went out dancing with some friends.

I looked at him smiled and said I will put a load in after I put the roast in the oven. The moment he walked out I looked to the food that laid before me and with the garlic and flour I poured on my contempt and anger, I added my heartache and malice to ensure that every bite was bitter.

When his parents arrived I was pulling the second load of laundry out the dryer while waiting for the cake to cool. With eager joy everyone sat at the table and I smiled and served. They all thought it was delicious but after one bite I could taste the bitterness of the emotions I poured on the roast beef and the contempt I added to the mashed potatoes and the hopelessness that was on the string beans. The cake was no better I gaged when the taste of spite hit the back of my throat.

I simply told everyone I was not feeling to well and that seemed to work as he and his parents were to busy stuffing their faces to question. I knew that if I was to continue cooking this way I was going to have to prepare a separate dish for myself and if it meant feeling better than it was worth it.

Monday was normally left overs but I was feeling so light hearted from Sunday that I raced home to try a new recipe, steak pie. I would use what was left of the roast and add a few more things. As the pie crust whirled together in my food processor I threw in a touch of bitterness. As the slices of roast beef simmered in the gravy I added hatred and when I put it all together and slid it in the oven I scowled which slowly turned to a smile as the oven door closed.

When I served him his dinner he complained it was t spicy I simply apologized for my heavy use of pepper although I did not use any kind of spicy seasonings.

The next day was a simple chicken with spinach and coli flour with brownies for dessert. I used frustration and melancholia. He complained it was too salty. I looked him in the eye hoping he would catch the insincerity of my apology but it went unnoticed but as the week went on I used the same recipes as I always did except I substituted salt and pepper for every ill feeling and emotion I had ever had since I got into this marriage. I forced him to taste the effecting sting of what his lack of caring did until Sunday I did not cook at all.

I sat on the couch watching TV, I told him I was depressed, he asked when dinner was and I told him I was not up to cooking, he told me that he had invited his parents and his brother over and I stood my ground I was not cooking. I stayed in my robe and had my big Winnie the Pooh mug full of coffee and watched all the shows I recorded on my DVR.

When his family arrived I got dressed and we ordered pizza. I looked up to catch evil looks from him and his family. The only one who managed to fake any kind of concern was his father, he asked how my job and family were in hopes it would give some indication to why I was depressed and did not cook. I simply smiled and said I everyone and everything was fine and that I was simply having an off day.

The moment the house was clear I went back to the couch where my husband tried to join me. I smiled and said I could really use some alone time he looked at me and said he had nothing else to do.  We had not had sex since Monday and he only had time for me when he either wanted sex or could think of nothing better to do. This was the point where he would talk of being concerned for me and tell me how much he loved me in hopes that things would go back to how they were. I would normally give in or express the same things that I had expressed for the past three years and then things would return to normal.

This time I decided to go to the kitchen and make brownies. It was nothing special just some boxed Chardelle that I would add a few extras to. Nuts, chocolate chips and then split the batter between two pans and add a secret ingredient that he would not taste but I would know is there, nothing lethal but enough to begin faze two of my plan.

My grandmother had told me a story about a cousin we had down south and despite the gruesomeness it was one of my favorites. It was a story of revenge and stupidity.  Whenever I would introduce someone to my grandmother and we got to talking about distant family members I would have her tell the story and when it came to my boyfriends I would tell them how fucked up I thought it was.

By now the standard was set for he and I to have two separate meals my excuse was I was on a new diet and had to be mindful of what I ate. I was eating only vegies and the kind he was not a fan of prepared in ways that made him curious but unwilling to try. I always told him his biggest flaw was that I knew him to well and he didn’t know me well enough.

A week later he started getting sick and as I did not cook every night he first thought it was the fast food he was eating I assured him it was not but he tried to cut it out and still got sicker.

He went to the doctor and they began running test and just as I had planned on they told him he was being poisoned. He came home angry and I reassured him it was not me which was the truth. After the brownies I knew it was not a good idea to make it the norm so I stopped. When he kept getting sicker he insisted on cooking his own meals and I was more than happy to allow him to. It was not long before his family came over for dinner and while everyone got sick except for me. His family recovered but my poor husband found his self in the hospital. An investigation began and I was asked if it was ok for the police to search my house and of course they found nothing.

It was explained to me that my husband was ingesting rat poisoning and that the traces were on the lethal side. My acting classes paid off because I managed to look believably shocked. I explained that I no longer cooked for my husband which he confirmed.

While in the hospital he insisted that the food sucked and that he hated the little salt and pepper packets. He insisted that I bring him the miniature pepper grinder from home. I was more than happy to oblige. A week later he was dead.

I did a good job by never keeping the pepper grinder at the hospital. I would visit with it at dinner time then take it home. Bitterness makes one do some crazy things. Like chopping rat pellets down to small cubes and adding them to the  multi colored pepper corns in the pepper grinder.

When I began adding my emotions to dinner I removed all salt and pepper and laced the pepper grinder. I told my husband that freshly cracked black pepper makes all the difference in a dish and after trying it for himself he agreed. Every night I watched as he twisted poison onto his food and when he began cooking for himself he went heavy handed.

My cousin was a woman scorned. Her husband left her for a younger woman. The husband then would still eat dinner at his ex-wife’s house so to get him back she put small amounts of rat poison in his food and because he was not eating at one place they could not trace it back to her. Even after the doctors told him he was being poisoned he continued eating until he was dead.

My husband never acted like he cared and being Jewish he was buried in three days. I pretended to mourn the loss and then sold the house and moved. I told everyone I thought he did it to himself. But his father noticed that while we sat Shiva there was no pepper in the house and it drove him crazy he loves pepper. I looked him in the eye and said, “So that’s where you son got it, you know it was the death of him.” He looked at me and expressed his disgust in my joke to which I simply smiled and left.  

Back to the Beginning P1

My life has been anything but boring for the past year. To be quite honest while it has been eventful I have felt totally uninspired to write. As the months past I felt that I should write the typical catch up of my life post that I have done so many times before but whenever I sat to write, I found my words boring and lacking inspiration. It all came off to me as writing for the sake of writing and not to tell a story or give advice, the things that my friends enjoy the most about my blog.

So here I am with only a month left in 2012 and finally I am inspired to write, what has inspired me, one may ask and I cannot help but say, “The thing that started my blog to begin with. . . Dating.”

I was once told that, “a horse does not turn around to eat grass that it has already passed.” Advice I was given about a certain someone who had hurt me quite deeply, the greatest love of my life thus far, Dr. MeTo.

December of last year I proclaimed to MeTo that I wanted him back and even performed the grand jester of surprising him in NJ with flowers via cab and train so that we could talk about the possibility f getting back together. In the movies it seems to always work or at least there is this strong emotional reaction. In reality it was not so well received one could say it was flat.  While I was latter given a second chance I was forced to do penance for walking away the first time. I had to prove how I felt and at times it even got to the point where I was forced to put up with injustice to win back the man of my dreams.

 There was an instance where I realized I could not trust him, but still allowed him opportunity to win it back. There was an attempted break up on his end because he did not like how I reacted to his trying to discuss our relationship with Facebook chat.  And when depression set in for him I did everything in my power to get him help and be there for him. And finally the time came when he decided to change careers and become a teacher in Brooklyn and instead of ensure that thing were solid before moving he just went on with his life and expected for me to just deal. I grew tired of unanswered phone calls and text and hearing from him only to complain about his life and questioned about what I was doing and who I was hanging out with when I was the one who still had reason not to trust him. After confronting him several times about how I felt and how things were in our relationship and getting empty promises that things would change I gave him an ultimatum.

I had not seem my Boyfriend for three months, by his own design I could not go visit him he could only visit me  and in order for him to put in any kind of effort I had to rearrange my entire life. He made a promise and broke it so I broke off the relationship. He took it as a shock despite my every warning and pleas for HELP in making things work. I was heartbroken and he failed to ACT like he cared I got only empty promises.

It was months and his actions still failed to line up with his words I kept promises and he did things to hurt me and before I knew it, I hated him. While I have gotten over the anger and I try to be cordial a part of me still hates him and I think that part always will. How do forgive someone who has wronged you and they make no effort to make things right? I admit I refuse to let that little piece of me that hates him rule my life, I try to remember that he lost out big but it hurts that while he says he cares his actions say the opposite.

So I am moving on with my life, five months later I have reopened my heart and begun dating for real. There are New rules, new friends, New home, same blog but a whole new attitude. I am older, wiser, sexy and fun and will always be Vixc-B.