“How was your school bash?” my girlfriend asked. My friends and I had also gone to the after party, but I had left early so I could be with her.

“It was good,” I responded, lying on her couch.

“You’re drunk,” she said, coming over to the couch.

“What did you expect? I’m from a teenage party,” I said, shrugging. I did not want to be there. I wanted to be out there, with my peers, with Kemofiloe.

“Go freshen up. I’m not going to touch you while you’re like that,” she said, pushing me away from her as I tried to kiss her. “You smell like a brewery,” she continued.

I stood up. “What’s wrong with you? I ditched my friends to have fun with you! I could be out there with my peers, but I’m here with you, and you’re here acting like my mom,” I said, shouting at her.

The alcohol had given me superpowers. I had never spoke to her like that before. So, when she stood up, facing me, I knew what was coming. What was I thinking talking to her like that? Just then, she slapped me. I was drunk, so I lost control very fast, fell on the couch, and, immediately after that, the leather belt followed.

After the beating, I fell asleep on her couch. I woke up at eight o’clock at night, but I was woken up by her, actually. “You need to leave,” she told me as I woke up.

I stood up hastily. “What time is it?” I asked, yawning.

“Let me drive you home before your parents go nuts,” she said, walking me to her car.

The drive to my house was silent. I hated her. It was okay if she did not want to break up, but I was sure as hell not going to give her the same place she once had in my heart. That space was reserved for Kemofiloe now. She pulled up on the spot where she usually dropped me off because I did not want to be brought home by a car. My parents would go nuts if they saw a car dropping me off. She leaned in for a kiss. I let her kiss me, but I did not kiss her back. I was still dating her physically, but mentally and emotionally, I knew I was done.

**********

After meeting Kemofiloe, my girlfriend and I continued our routine. But, after a while, I stood my ground and told her I was done. She protested, but I guess she knew, deep down, that she did not own me anymore. I was not scared of her anymore, and what scared her the most was the fact that she knew that if she ever raised her hand to me again, I would not curl up and sob anymore, and I would fight a good fight.

Kemofiloe and I eventually broke up after a few months. We broke up because I had hit her, cheated on her, and I had done everything that made her feel like she was not good enough. Break ups and make ups were our daily bread. But, after a year of doing the same thing, we broke up for good because she had fallen pregnant by boy at our school. I guess it was a good thing, actually, because I needed a new start.

It was tough letting go of Kemofiloe because I loved her, but I did. I still listened to our favourite song by John Legend, “Love Me Now”, from time to time, though. I was a bit abusive in my other relationships, but I stopped. I no longer wanted to be feared by the person I was with because I knew how it felt to walk on egg shells around a partner, and I never wanted to put someone’s daughter through what I went through.

***

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