To start a fire you need three things: fuel, heat and oxygen. You can’t have a fire without all three. Separately, they are all safe and all needed for a different purpose. But when together, they can make a deadly combination. 

 Our marriage had its own combustible components: Control, unhealthy communication and mistrust; and it all came together to a point of ignition that completely burned our marriage to the ground…or so it seemed

 Something had been bothering me. Things weren’t good between Papa and I but it was something else, tugging at me constantly. Things just weren’t adding up…more late nights at work, more on call hours, times I couldn’t reach him, receipts that didn’t match up, none of it made sense.

 One morning I decided to check the phone bill. There was one number that was constantly called, all hours, every day and at that moment I knew.

 I left and took Boogey to my parent’s house and on the way home I called the number, she answered. 

 She knew nothing about me. Due to her hurt, she told me everything. Confirming dates, times and places assuring me it could all be confirmed through his bank statements. The more she spoke, the more the fire inside of me grew. I was hurt. He had erased me from his life. I didn’t exist outside the walls of our home. 

 The moment I walked in the door all hell broke loose.

I was enraged. There was no denying, no way of avoiding and all I could see was red. I eventually left. There was nothing he could say. I was gone and there was no way I was coming back. 

 I was broken and I needed reassurance and comfort. There was only one person that could provide that, my daddy. I went to him with all my tears and pain needing him to tell me why. This is the man you gave your blessing too, the man you entrusted me too, the man that was supposed to protect and love me had now destroyed me and I needed the 1st love of my life to tell me why. But he couldn’t…he could only tell me he loved me and in the 40+ years of being married to my mother, a lot of mistakes had been made. 

 Let me give you some context on my father. My mother and father have been married for almost 50 years. There isn’t one without the other. Their love, the way they love each other is that of a biblical love. My mother submits to the leadership of him and he loves her like the gift from God she is. As a child I could constantly see acts of love that were shown between them and it shaped what I knew what love should look like. 

 My parents married young, they were about 20 years old when they said I do. However, they had been married 16 years before I was born. My daddy told me things didn’t become the way they are today, overnight. It took years, decades, of learning and growing, saying I’m sorry and being willing to forgive…He didn’t tell me stay with Papa, he didn’t tell me to leave him either. He told me to pray about it. If I chose to leave, I would always have their support and a place to come home to. If I decided to stay, they would support me as long as Papa was going to treat me right.

 There was no forgiveness in me for Papa. However, mama always told me to NEVER leave your home… it’s the man who should leave. So I headed home but it wasn’t for reconciliation. 

 It was to let Papa know he had to get the hell out my house…