What do a single sister has to do to get some love
Man, I really am alone😔 I get no notifications, I get no calls, I never get a good morning text nor a goodnight text. I feel like I am a good person but I have flaws and I know I do. I ain’t perfect. I’m just like you just trying to survive. Living everyday with my own guilt and trying everything in my power to grow and change to be a better person.
Tell me how can someone grow when everyone around you. Use your pasts as a weapon, to tear you down. I’m trying the best I can. I am fighting alone. My dreams are so real that I can’t tell the difference between woke and sleep. I need a man that can wake me up on time so I can run and use the bathroom before I wet the bed.
I seems like this is the reason for all of my breakups me pissing up the man and him getting mad because he doesn’t understand that I can’t help it the sitting down at the toilet is to vivid to discern what’s real and what’s not.
I’m just waiting for someone to hold me and kiss me good night and sleep over every night and not just abandon me just because I piss them up. Spanish Well’s men are strange.
Hundreds of thousands of people, mostly women, have streamed into Chad to escape Sudan’s civil war. But once at displacement sites, women report they are being forced to have sex for food or easier access to assistance and jobs.
Hundreds of thousands of people, mostly women, have streamed into Chad to escape Sudan’s civil war. But once at displacement sites, women report they are being forced to have sex for food or easier access to assistance and jobs.
From de time I was small, Grammy always say, if dey cross ya, read ya Bible backwards on dem. It goin’ bring dey downfall. An’ I believe her. Grammy ain’t never wrong. She raise me an’ all me cousins in dis same house, teachin’ us how to cook, how to clean, and how to handle people who don’t respect us. But more than anything, she teach us how to fight wid de Word.
Now I’s a grown woman, big an’ strong. Well, maybe more big dan strong. But dat don’t matter. Grammy say my size is my power, an’ she right. Dey call me Big Sharon ‘round de neighborhood, an’ I know dey laughin’ behind me back. But I don’t care. Laugh all dey want. I got my Bible an’ Grammy’s teachings.
I remember de first time Grammy teach me to read it backwards. I was ‘bout twelve, an’ de neighbor’s child call me fat pig in front of everybody at de schoolyard. I run home cryin’, but Grammy stop me at de door. She pull out her big ole Bible, slap it down on de table, an’ tell me to wipe my tears and start from Revelation an’ go backwards. Concentrate, an’ de spirits goin’ fix it.
I ain’t understand it den, but I trust Grammy. Sure enough, two days later dat boy get chicken pox all over he face. Grammy laugh so hard she nearly fall out her chair. She say God don’t like ugly, but He sure like justice.
Since den, I been readin’ my Bible backwards any time somebody cross me. It don’t matter how small de offense. De man at de bakery who sell me a stale loaf of bread? I read it on him, an’ de next week, he shop burn down. De woman at church who whisper loud enough for me to hear Sharon too big for dat pew, I read it on her, an’ she husband leave her for a younger woman.
But no matter how much I read, I still feel empty. My house quiet. Too quiet. Ain’t nobody come see me no more, not even my cousins. Dey say I too bitter, but dey don’t understand. Dey don’t know how it feel to walk down de street an’ hear people snickerin’. Dey don’t know how it feel to be invisible an’ yet somehow always de target.
One night, after de bossman at de restaurant tell me I eat too much staff food, I come home an’ light my candle. I sit at de table, sweat pourin’ down my face from de heat, but I don’t care. I pull out my Bible an’ start readin’ backwards, mutterin’ under my breath, Revelation to Genesis, fix him, Jesus, fix him.
De next week, he wife get in a car accident. Not fatal, but bad enough to shake him up. I smile to myself, feelin’ powerful, but de smile don’t last long. De house feel colder dan usual dat night, like a shadow sittin’ in de corner watchin’ me.
Sometimes I wonder if Grammy was wrong. Sometimes I wonder if all dis Bible-readin’ ain’t justice but somethin’ else. But den I remember how dey laugh at me. How dey point an’ whisper, Big Sharon tink she better dan us.
So I keep readin’. I read it on de taxi driver who look at me an’ say, lady, you too big for dis seat. I read it on de girl at de shop who roll her eyes when I ask for a size XXL. I read it on everybody who ever make me feel small, even though I big.
But no matter how much I read, I can’t shake dis feelin’ like I losin’ somethin’. My joy? My peace? My soul? I don’t know. But it too late to stop now. I ain’t got nobody else. My Grammy gone, an’ all I got left is her voice in my head, tellin’ me don’t let dem win, Sharon. Use de Word on dem.
So I light another candle, pull out de Bible, an’ start flippin’ backwards again. If I goin’ down, I takin’ all of dem wid me.
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You sound like a very evil misled spiteful person.
