What's Your Name
"Tinamarie, get off the phone". She said even stronger this time, "Tinamarie get off the phone, someone wants to talk to you."
I was thinking to myself. my dead grandmother or some other person
"Who is it?" My sister says to me, "Why isn't he wearing a shirt?" As soon as she said that I knew who it was, I got chillbumps. How could she know? she is 12 years younger than me, we grew up in different states and I never told her about him. I didnt think about it, but from that one statement, "why isnt he wearing a shirt, really shouldnt have made me known, did I sense him all along?
"Ask him his name" I told her, and she looked toward the corner. "Sco, no, steven, its steven,
Tina, who is steven? " Then I said, "ask him how he died." she said, "In the worst possible way"
Now Steven was somone in my past, he was someone who I had a relationship with that got serious. Steven had an alchohol problem, and he drank alot and started to take it out on me. He would come home drunk and start beating me. His beatings were so bad that I kicked him out and told him dont fu------ come back.
He left and went to Jersey City. That is where he was from. The next week I was getting calls from his dad. "You have to give Steven another chance. He has gone through detox and he is crying for you." I stuck to my guns and said "no, I am not giving him another chance."
I would get calls at work from his sister saying that he does nothing but cry over me. I still wouldnt budge.
Then I get the call at work from his sister. "Steven is dead thanks to you."
"He committed suicide because you wouldnt give him another chance." He parked his car in a garage, ran a hose through the tail pipe in through the window, shut the garage door, started the car and slept . He said if he couldnt be with you his life wasnt worth living."
I hung up, I thought it was a cruel joke, but when I got home, his father was there. He beseached me, wondering why I wouldnt give his son another chance. I proceeded to take through the little apartment, "See these stairs? That is the ones he threw me down", See this room, (this is where he did this to me) and so on. I was just taking him through different areas of the house telling him the God awful things Steven did to me even while he wasnt drunk.
I am sure that he was not in his right mind when he took his own life. The thing is I carried it for a long time and blamed myself. Looking back I know none of it was my fault. None of it I could of prevented, he was already attuned to how he was going to function in life and he had other deep seated problems.
Knowing it now is somewhat different from knowing it then. Knowing it then, I was not educated on different areas of phsycy.
My sister had no way of knowing these things when she told me.
She kept asking me, when he told her how he died, "in the worst possible way",
she wanted to know why. Steven never wore a shirt in hot weather, he liked to walk around shirtless and had a body that it was quite nice when he did so.
His message to me through my sister was this. "Please stop blaming yourself, its not your fault." My sister wanted to know what wasnt my fault?
He told her that he still loves me and checks in on me once in a while to make sure I'm ok.
He also told her to tell me not to carry it anylonger. I carried that for 20 years or more. I'm now able to let it go.
A few days went by and I could still feel his presence, but I was so exhausted from an overwhelming emotional state that I layed on the couch.
I was drifting off, the kids were outside and I felt an arm go under me and one on top , like a hug, then I felt a kiss on my forehead and then it was gone. He said goodbye. I think he was able to go.
I dont carry his suicide with me anymore, but I am able to look back at it and I have one good last memory of him and that is recent.. In his death, I think he was able to come to peace.
May he rest in peace.