Dealing with his power
– What are your workout goals? – my fitness instructor was a lovely-looking kid, polite, defined, in his early twenties. – What would you like to achieve?
– I … I … want … – I slowly looked around trying to put my thoughts together. Guys were working bloody hard leaving sweat and hand sanitizer on steel beams. They came here searching for strength, since being strong felt good and smelt like power.
“His name is Jim. And he is strong” – this thought suddenly flashed through my mind. I shook my head trying to get him out of my head.
Jim did not go to a gym, his work out equipment was people. He bent them the way he liked, totally subjecting others to his will. He always got what he wanted being capable of buying and selling anyone as many times as he liked.
– I go after what I want hon, – he made decisions and worked aggressively crashing obstacles, caring very little about people’s feelings, – I grow and sell businesses, this is what I am really good at.
– Don’t you get that I am not your freaking business project?! – I grabbed a plate from the kitchen table and fiercely threw it on the floor. It broke into pieces.
– You gotta clean it up, Vixen. Do it, now, – he was firm, direct, and scarily calm.
– F*ck you.
He slowly put the laptop aside and reached out to his iPhone.
– If you do not clean the mess, I will call the police and report domestic violence. I do not need that crap in my home.
– Really? – our eyes met, I did not see any understanding or compassion.
– You are such a gentleman….
– Clean .. the mess … now, I am not repeating myself here, – his voice was low and assertive. I kneeled down and started picking up the broken pieces from the floor. Dealing with the police was not something I was looking forward to; I knew he would make a phone call, he never made empty threats, he was way too busy for it.
He watched me sobbing on the floor with a trash bag searching for the tiny sharp pieces. – Take this, – He gave me a pair of rubber gloves and a broom. I felt like a dog submitting to the owner’s command. He did not care.
I blocked his phone number, he started coming to my home. His “I am a take-charge person, I want you, and I will have you” drove me nuts, it was easier to give in than to explain why I do not want to see him any longer.
His strength was enormous, he rolled through the life like a tank ignoring anything that was not helpful to achieve his goals.
He never got why I discontinued our relationship, I was unable to explain, he never listened. When he asked me if I loved him, I shrugged my shoulders. Watching a TV show with tanks in action was fun, but the idea of having one in the household was not that enticing.
– So, do you know your workout goals? – the fitness instructor was getting impatient tapping the pen on the table.
I gave him a smile. Jim was still in my heart and on my mind.
– Yes, of course. I am here to be strong. And we gonna start right now.
