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Phone Booth


As I pour words onto the page, my fingers racing across the keys, desperately attempting to outpace my thoughts, I'm all too aware of the imminent danger lurking in the shadows. The man with the sniper rifle trained on me remains concealed, his presence a chilling reminder of the consequences awaiting me.

For I'm a looming threat, for I have forged an unholy alliance between myself and the monstrous entity I've unwittingly nurtured. It's a relationship fraught with contradiction, tainted by my affection for the darkness that resides within. The sniper persists in my thoughts, driven by an insatiable need to make me expose the raw truth that festers within me. But this truth is a double-edged sword. With each keyboard stroke, I inch closer to the moment of reckoning, knowing that the man outside will show no mercy or love. He is indifferent to my internal struggles, unmoved by the twisted bond I share with the monster that lurks within. And he won't stop until the brutal truth inside me becomes a burden I can no longer bear to conceal. I must continue to write, even as the threat of retribution looms large every growing second.


This is the narrative of my phone booth and how I found myself within its confines under the direct line of fire threat of a sniper's aim. 


When queried about my favorite movie, I singled out "Phone Booth" for its unapologetic candor. It lays bare the raw, primal urges of a man to f**K around entangled in deceit, skillfully weaving a tale of manipulation under the guise of false promises of opportunities and affection.

I haven't made any promises, manipulated anyone, or behaved deceitfully. Like the Man in "Phone Booth," I haven't misled or deceived anyone or engaged in illicit activities like F**king people's lives for self-gain. Despite leading a law-abiding life, perhaps even striving for righteousness by going above and beyond, except for taking a few financial missteps, I find myself confined within the booth.

I found myself in the booth due to my naivety and misplaced trust in everyone around me. Instead of seizing the opportunity to be in the sniper's position, I foolishly believed in the words of those I believed knew everything, blind to the cryptic warnings, secrets, and silent cues of those in my midst and the deceptive facade of those around me. In doing so, I unwittingly placed myself in harm's way, not for promises of money, sex, or drugs, but out of a misguided sense of protecting others before myself. So, I let him F**K my life, and that's the first step out of 7 of our relationship. I neglected to prioritize my protection before safeguarding others.


The tale didn't conclude there; instead, I was entangled in a toxic relationship with him despite the damage it inflicted upon me. Once again, I slipped into the pattern of prioritizing other's well-being over my own; this time, I protected him, repeating the same mistakes as countless women before me. I realized how naive I had been, perpetuating the cycle of sacrificing my well-being to protect the toxic man in the relationship.

Though I've yet to hear his perspective, I find myself in the hot seat today, realizing my role in fostering toxic behavior within our relationship by painting it in a positive light or presenting it with a sugar-coated facade. In doing so, I've not only caused harm to myself but also endangered others and regressed the progress of women's empowerment. For this, I offer my heartfelt apologies.


Despite Our efforts to maintain positivity and blossom from a seed underneath into a flower above the ground in hostile environments, we must acknowledge that the negative space we've cultivated remains unchanged. Taking responsibility for calling out a spade a spade who obstructs our progress in the form of cruel nature is very important. If we cannot, we have selfish motives, even with noble intentions, which means accepting and sharing the consequences of the person's actions. Put plainly, I'm prepared to go down alongside him if he goes down. 

So what happened the night of my spouting? The air tightened its grip, and doors made noises, threatening to go after my mother. I replied that I understood the motive behind it, so my oxygen levels were immediately lowered, and down I went with him to become a seed again. 

I kept my pain, torment, and anguish hidden from everyone, torn between confusion and a lack of love and support. I knew knocking on doors was useless because they would remain closed out of apathy or self-isolation from me. I couldn't approach the law because I was unsure how to explain the strange situation I put myself in, which seemed unbelievable even to me. Over time, my confidants dissuaded me from speaking out, fearing public shame because they doubted my truthfulness and anticipated facing similar disbelief and humiliation. 

Yet, my budding love for him was the undeniable truth that held me back from taking legal action against him. When he whispered his name, revealed his face, and exposed his vulnerabilities, admitting his confusion and blindness similar to mine, I was drawn to his honesty. Each time I returned to him to fight with him and take on him single-handedly without needing assistance or help from the plastics I was surrounded by, I saw more of his realness, his sincerity, deepening my affection despite the circumstances. And so, in that moment of unspoken words of truth, I accepted him as my husband and walked with him secretly with growing love and unchanged pain as far as I could. That is the truth of this flower breaking ground from seed while he became nature's challenge on my path to freedom.

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