A Myriad of Emotions

A Myriad of Emotions details via poetry, essays, and prose in a intimate journal format, the struggles of our heroine, Marissa Walters. She tries to free herself from a two year love triangle with co-worker with Curtis Lewis and his live-in lover Retha.

Marissa prevails over the stress and drama of everyday life and most of all manages to recover from a heart broken not only once but twice. Everyone regardless of color or gender should experience 'A Myriad of Emotions' you'll meet and understand a real 'Superwoman'.

Excerpt from A Myriad of Emotions

May 1

I swear, cross my heart and hope to die (not!), that today is “THE DAY,” girlfriend, (I know you’re just a book of sorts a diary, hence the name Di). I am going to break up with Curtis, kick his butt to the curb, cut him loose, over and out, finito, all that good stuff. I’ve given that man way too much of my time. He’s had his chances. I knew he was trouble the minute he laid those big ole green eyes on me, not too mention those dimples, looking like packed ice cream carved with a spoon. It’s time for this Sistah to insist, he put up or shut-up, step up to the plate. It’s time to hit a home run, or just plain strike out. I’ve been divorced for two and a half years. My relationship with Gerry shut me down. When I say down, I mean as low as a basset hound’s stomach.

I had lost that integral part of me. Are you feeling me? You know, the woman part of me. I didn’t feel any emotion, didn’t even question why I felt that way. I was convinced that was my lot in life, just to exist in a lonely environment. The only satisfaction or pleasure, I felt in my life, was when it applied to my sons, or my job. I didn’t feel desirable, or even feel desire for a man. I tried hard to continue that way of life, I really did Di, I swear. I kept up the charade of a marriage for six of fourteen years. Why, you ask; I felt I had to hang in there for our sons, Mykal, age fifteen, and Gerald Jr., twelve years old at the time of our divorce Our game plan, to perpetrate the myth until Gerry Jr., turned eighteen. We all gave stellar performances, to all on the outside looking in. Hell, we all could have won Academy Awards.

Both my boys look like me, but in different ways, Mykal and Gerry Jr., are handsome young men, tall, dark chocolate males, with slim physiques, like I was back in my day. Both are polite, sensitive, helpful and well-mannered young men. Between Gerry and myself, we’ve tried to instill in them, the importance of having goals in life, and as time goes on, we’ll see what life has in store for them. I am quite proud of them, and as I said they keep me going, or gave me a reason for living. They were very supportive of the divorce, being were old enough to sense things were not quite right in the Walters household.

A rash of deaths brought me out of my comatose state, long enough to realize tomorrow is not promised; the time had come for me to move on with my life. Di, I had lost me. The Marissa Walters of old, was dead and gone. Our sons were the best part of the marriage. We were better parents than spouses. I worry though, how our ill-fated marriage will affect their future relationships. I feel we were such lousy role models. Thank God Di, my divorce wasn’t because of Curtis, or any other man. Had that been the case, I would be crazy, just insane right about now. Gerry and I hadn’t shared a bedroom, much less a bed for at least three years. After I fessed up, that tidbit to my closest friends, they told me I was crazy. How the hell did I go without IT, for so many years was all I’d heard from them. They told me that was just plain unnatural. I tried to explain to them, when you lose yourself; other aspects go along with it. Not to mention, I learned very well how to satisfy my own needs when I had the itch. Hindsight is 20’20 they say.

I am a slow learner but I am getting there, slowly but surely. So today Di, May first, I am going to be strong. I will not weaken. I’ll give you the 411 tonight. You’ll see, I’ll pull it off; there is no doubt in my mind (well maybe a little). I haven’t kept a journal or diary for a while. I will document the rise or fall of Curtis and Marissa. Well Di, I hate to admit it, I was weak, Curtis, got to me again, looking at me with those puppy dog eyes, with just the right amount of moisture in them. He hugged me tightly, told me he was not letting me go. No Rissa, he pleaded, not yet Baby. You can’t just write us off, not yet. I’m going to do right by you. I swear to that, I know you’ve been hurt in the past; you know we belong to each other. Just one week, Baby please, just give me one week, seven days,” he went on. The upshot is that he has exactly one week to get Retha his live-in lover, out of his house. This was the closest Curtis had come to an actual commitment. Being the foolish romantic I am, I agreed. Did I mention Curtis and I work together Di? How’s that for a messy situation. Well, got to run now, I want to see my boys before they head off with Gerry for the weekend.

Bit by bit you crept into my heart

We were meant to be forever, never apart

You see I’d given up on love so long ago

Loneliness had become my enemy, my foe

May 2

The shrill ring of the telephone penetrated my dark shroud of sleep. It was Curtis, aka my dll (down low lover). Di, he hates me calling him that. “Whassup Rissa?” he asked cheerfully, as if it wasn’t five o’clock in the morning. “You got it,” I replied, and then added on second thought, “Not Really.” Di, he doesn’t have shit. I’m here alone, in this big ole bed, and he’s there. “Did you talk to Retha?” I asked. The words burst from my mouth like a speeding bullet from a gun, before I could catch myself. “Let’s just say I broached the subject, yeah baby I put it out there,” he bragged.

“What exactly does that mean,” I asked him confused? I was wide-awake by then, there was no fogginess, as my mind segued to crystal clear alertness. “I’m sowing the seeds,” he answered. I could hear his name being called in the background. He usually calls me from the basement of his house. He has his own telephone line and Retha hers. “I’ll call you later,“ he promised. With that, all that was left was the bong-bong of the dial tone in my ear. In the past I would have been overjoyed that he’d called. Now all I felt was tired. It was going to be a long day, and he’d jumpstarted it before I was ready. Oh well, I hopped out of bed, hurried into the shower and decided to treat myself to breakfast. I was back home in an hour.

Di, I absolutely loathe weekends. That’s when loneliness hits me like a ton of bricks. Curtis and I almost never see each other over the weekends. He calls more than he does during the week, but like the song goes “Ain’t Nothing Like The Real Thing,” and more times than not, I feel dissatisfied after his calls. I decided to get my hair done today instead of tomorrow, and do a little grocery shopping, maybe hit the bookstore hmmm…. With the boys spending the weekend with their father, and dll out of commission, I was really feeling down.

Several hours later, I was back home, in the bed and asleep before you could say, abracadabra. I tried paging Curtis later on, no response Di, I, must never, ever call, him at home, only page him. I’ve called him exactly once, since we’d begun dating, back in the beginning of the relationship. It was early one Saturday morning. Maybe a minute after we’d hung up, I decided to take the plunge and call him back. You guessed Di, Retha answered the phone. I disguised my voice, but Sistah girl seemed suspicious, and I pretended to be a friend of Curtis’ daughter. The things we do when the one we choose is not available. As the day progressed, I watched a little television, read a book. Later I fixed myself dinner, then ate it, drank a little wine, watched a little television, and drank a little more wine, and, that was all she wrote.