I Love You & You Too


I felt nothing as I read the messages from the French lady whom we’d met while in Cambodia. I shifted my weight on my butt cheeks to be certain, but yeah, I felt nothing. I leaned back in the chair and inhaled slowly…still, nothing. I calmly read all the messages  – from the time we’d met her while in Cambodia in her sister’s jewelry store to where they were chatting in French because he claimed he wantd to learn it better. All the way to where she said she truly wanted to help and was telling Emmnanuel that he needs to communicate better with me, his wife, if I were not providing enough for him to live on. As per him I had not given him money for him to buy shoes and jeans for himself. I silently agreed with her about him communicating better. I was glad that she did not jump on the wagon to jump on him and be with him. She did not have to because he did. In the messages he was promising he was in love with her. Damn, that was quick. We’d all only just met about 1 week before when we visited Cambodia. We only stayed around her sister’s store for about 1 hour talking and chatting and admiring the jewelry. But here he was professing his love. “I am done with this marriage. I want to marry you.” I had to scroll back up to reread that line and thought: “Girl!!!! Please come and get him. You’ll be done with him soon too. Trust, it won’t last.”

I had been reading Emmanuel’s messages on his Facebook profile. I had figured out the password and was reading it. It was 2a.m. I left the internet cafe about 30 minutes before coming from an online meeting with a client in a different time zone. Emmanuel had accompanied me to the internet cafe, but when I said I was ready to go he stayed. I walked home alone back to our apartment wondering why it was that I was walking alone and he was staying behind.

I walked back to the cafe and his full attention was on the screen. He was smiling broadly as if the person were sitting next to him. He was eager and in to the on screen conversation. I walked up behind him and he was startled. I sat down next to him.

“I read the messages you and her have been exchanging.” I touched his arm for added effect and to let him know non-verballly that I was ok.

“I am ok with it. I agree. This marriage is over and you 2 should go and be happy together.”

“Ahh!!!! You! Get away from me! I don’t know what you are talking about. You only want to argue!” he yelled.

I was taken aback because I thought I was setting him free and finally I could be free from whatever this type of relationship was. He was offended?! No, you don’t get to be offended, caught, and then try to turn it on me that I like to argue. I yelled back and left the cafe to go back home.

How dare he try to turn this shit on me! I’m not the one chatting in to the morning with women online. I am online working while he is trying to romance and move on to the next possibility of a visa.

The rage I felt was huge. I couldn’t make sense out of this behavior. It was counterproductive to the road I wanted to be on and yet, here I was in the thick of it. My world interrupted and disturbed because I chose someone who is selfish and in it only for themselve. I was in another country and no crew to call to complain to and no support system. I was tired of this shit and I wanted instant justice and a comforting

Emmanuel always had a thing about looking good and his image. I never could understand the vanity he had, but it was always present when he wanted to criticize me for paying for my daughter’s education instead of buying clothes or shoes for myself.

Yes, his clothes are a good target and the knife is the perfect tool for this. I set about cutting up his clothes like an artist. The French woman will take care of him anyway, as she may fall for his love lines. She can buy him new clothes. I wasn’t done and still upset about his behavior towards me while I’m being sincere in him moving on. I called him to let him know that I was cutting up his clothes – me and my anger issues. Miraculously he was home within minutes!

He came in to the house quietly and in disbelief. I looked up from my newfound craft of cutting artistry and dared him to say anything or to do anything. I had spoken without speaking. He turned around and left.

Little did I know that my husband had not just left the apartment, but had abandoned me. No talking in a civilized manner as I’d tried to approach him, no phone call to me to explain that he’d moved on, he just left with the clothes he was wearing and his passport. I learned it 2 days later when I logged in to his Facebook account and could locate his location based upon his latest log in location. I was in shock and so hurt from this. This man whom I’d claimed as my husband never had any money to contribute to his household, nor me, had flown to Ghana on a last minute flight. I initially thought it was the French lady who helped him, but I learned that his sister paid for the ticket for him to flee Bangkok and get back to Ghana – “to safety” was her words.

Ain’t that a bag of interesting: you can send money for him to leave me, but no one has money for him to help his household with paying the bills and rent.

*Are you like, “Wow!”? Share this post with your friends so that they can learn more about what Latoya went through being married to a man who married to receive a green card and get to the USA. The items shared here are not in the book, Wanted: Green Card


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