I was 33 years old and had
only experienced one serious relationship when I was steam-rolled by what I perceived was
true love. I was separated at the time, headed for divorce from the only woman with whom I
had ever been. Shortly after my daughter's birth, our marriage crumbled quickly, leading
to a separation in 1995. The experience of losing a marriage in two short years soured me
on relationships until I met Yolanda.
In my eyes, she was more beautiful than any woman in the world, and she wanted to be with
me. She had the physical and mental characteristics of somebody with whom I knew I could
spend eternity. We worked together in a New York school. Plus, our daughters were only
months apart and could be good friends to each other. Ignoring any differences, such as
cultural, racial, and family differences, I plunged into a very deep friendship in which
we spent every possible moment together. For five months I heard the stories of what her
ex-husband did to her. How he verbally abused this beautiful flower. How he physically
abused her on one occasion. I couldn't believe a man could hurt this precious gem of a
woman. He even destroyed her apartment with a knife one evening when we were out together.
I am sure that he would have destroyed her too if she had been there.
Last Winter, her ex was going back home to South America to live. Yolanda began treating
me differently. She suddenly turned as cold as the weather and unceremoniously dumped me
right after Christmas. I called her repeatedly, crying and asking what I could do to get
her back. I wanted her more than anything. I felt cheated out of a future, but Yolanda
would not and could not hear me anymore. She asked me to stop calling her and she
eventually went back to her ex-husband, allowing him to move back in only one month after
she broke up with me.
We continued to work together, but I still had feelings for this beautiful woman. After
living with her ex for three months, Yolanda decided she wanted me back, and I still
wanted her, so I went. It was probably the worst thing I could have done to my life. This
decision single-handedly undermined any emotional growth I had achieved in the past
several years.
For the first four months, Yolanda was wonderful. She was decent to me, sweet, loving, and
happy. The beginning of that Fall began the end of all the sweetness. During the summer,
we had spoken of a life together where we would move into an apartment and save money for
a house. Suddenly, Yolanda began treating me very indifferently, not inviting me to family
gatherings even though her family would ask where I was, or bringing all of her nieces on
outings which should have only included Yolanda, myself, and our children. She told others
that she didn't feel the same about me but she knew I was a good man so she didn't want to
break up "just in case." We took college courses together and Yolanda would talk
to other men in the class and ignore me as I took care of her daughter. She began to look
for a house in one of the areas in which she knew I refused to live.
It was a very difficult period of time because I still had hope that she would come to her
senses and love me as she used to. There were nice times, times during which Yolanda would
be decent to me and would treat me the way I liked, but the good days occurred less
frequently as the painful days, during which I was mistreated...by this wonderful woman.
I tried to break up with Yolanda on more than one occasion, but she would cry and say she
didn't want me to leave her, so I stayed. We stayed together through Christmas and New
Years even though Yolanda didn't spend either day with me. She just didn't feel the need
to be with me on those Holidays.
In early January, Yolanda sent someone with her car keys so that I could do her the favor
of moving her car. As I was walking on the icy pavement, I slipped and fell. I was out of
work for a month and a half. After a few weeks at home with only one visit from my
so-called girlfriend, Yolanda broke up with me over the phone. Essentially, she asked me
if I would date any other foreign women now. I decided right then and there to never speak
to Yolanda again. She called but I didn't return the calls. She had her sister call and I
didn't return those calls. We really didn't speak until June, when she asked me for a
portrait that she had given me for my birthday.
I spent the summer without speaking to Yolanda, but thinking she would come to her senses
and want me back. On the first day of school in September, I heard that she was out in
front of the school kissing her ex-husband. He obviously did that for my benefit, to show
me that he eventually ended up with The Prize.
I know that I am addicted to Yolanda and that she could have come back into my life at any
time before September and I would have welcomed her with open arms. I had enough sense to
ignore her and stay away for some time after she broke up with me, knowing she could have
manipulated me at any time. Now I hear she is with her ex. I will never speak to her
again. In fact, the only reason in which I wish to hear about her is if she is dead. I
won't feel any emotional pain when she dies, and that is truly sad since Yolanda had woken
up such beautiful feelings of love in me, feelings which I didn't think existed. In fact,
I think that hearing of her demise would only bring me happiness.
Yolanda killed so much in me. She killed my naiveté. She killed whatever innocence a
35-year old man could have. Since Yolanda, people have said that I just need another woman
and I will be okay, but I don't have even the faintest desire to start another
relationship because I know where it will go. I had placed faith in someone who didn't
deserve any faith. I also got too involved with a woman who could have destroyed the one
beautiful thing in my life, my daughter. If I had stayed with Yolanda, I would have had to
move away from my daughter. It scares me to think that I had even considered this at one
time.
I have taken control of my life, but only by breaking my addiction to a woman. I don't
know how it feels to be addicted to drugs or alcohol, but I know that I have the ability
to be addicted to a person, and I know that this addiction could easily lead to the same
losses as those other addictions. |
P