Yeah, I went to see this movie. Two reasons: 1. To support another achievement in African-American filmmaking where none of the characters are portrayed as a drug dealer, a gangster, a dopefiend, uneducated, whorish, or any other forms of negative imagery that plagues the plethora of talent in our community; and 2. To possibly find my own answer to the question I, along with everyone else in my immediate family was asking me, “Why did I get married?”
Let me start with a brief synopsis of the movie. If you have yet to see it for yourself, it’s a story about four married couples having difficulty maintaining their relationships in today’s times. Over the course of a weekend getaway, secrets begin to unravel among the couples and each start to question the authenticity of their marriages. They all struggle with issues of commitment and questions of infidelity while dealing with betrayal and searching for forgiveness.
Now, here’s a little background on me. I used to be married. Yup, You read that correctly. MARRIED; with a ring and everything. I was engaged at 24, to my girlfriend of four years, married at 25 for five solid months, and then came the separation for a year and a half.; then recently, the DIVORCE. May 28th, 2005 was the day I got married. I have had the past two and a half years to reflect on exactly what went wrong with my marriage, and at 24, why the hell did I decide to want to get married in the first place.
In a nutshell, I am typically a difficult man to be with (so I’ve been told). I’m an artist (rapper). I’m moody. As stubborn as a true Taurus can be. I also have a tendency to become overly defensive when I feel I am being spoken to condescendingly. I often have difficulty putting forth the same kind of effort I put into my music, into anything else. I’ve sacrificed many things for the focus I put into my craft (i.e. college, jobs, my marriage). But it’s not all bad things. I’m a great listener. I’m big on the importance of family. I’m kind-hearted deep down and respectful when talking to others. But around this time last year I started to ask myself if the flaws I possess were serious enough for my wife to not want to stay married to me. Nobody’s perfect; furthermore, it’s not like we got married and I changed into this person she never met before. I was the same way prior to she and I ever getting involved. So what was it, I ask myself. Did I spend too many hours in the studio and not enough time at home? Did I perform in too many shows around New York City. She was working 12 hour days herself so it’s not like she was around the crib anyway. I’m trying to be very calculated in the things I put in this write-up. I’m just letting the words flow. And once I finish I do not plan on going back to edit. So I may say things that a person may feel should have been left out, but f*ck it. This is me. Part of my artistry is this level of openness and freedom I have.
That same talent might have played a detriment to my marriage in retrospect. I remember we were in the height of our separation. Sleeping in different rooms in the house, her in the bedroom, me in the basement; passing each other like strangers in the hallway. It was unfathomable how we had gotten to this point. So one day I did what I do best I wrote a song about it. I titled it Out of My Life. In the record I mention topics of her cheating on me, on how fortunate we were that we had yet to have children before sh*t got fu*ked up. I spoke on the disdain I felt she had towards my older brothers and mother, and how she viewed me with the same lack of respect she viewed her father. I remember the night I sat her down in the studio and played the record for her. I gave her forewarning that she was going to hear things that may upset her. It wasn’t my intention to be malicious with it. But she knew that when it came to writing music, or anything for that matter, I seldom hold back. Needless to say, her reaction was less than pleased. And I think that must have been one of the deciding factors in her not wanting to work things out with me (fyi, I opted of the separation to give ourselves time to figure out if we made the proper decision and if we should stay married. Her position was always that of, I don’t believe in separations. We either stay married or get divorced. That was the ultimatum). I moved out for about three months because living like mere ‘roommates’ was driving us both up the stress-wall. In that time she felt, I deserted her. I remember one day she told me, while asking for the address to send the divorce papers to, that she was more prepared to deal with me cheating on her, than me moving out and leaving her to deal with house issues. The latter was irreconcilable.
So there I am seated in this dark theatre with an acquaintance watching this movie I had promised to watch but had successfully dodged for 3 straight weeks. And as I sit there staring at these couples arguing back and forth I can’t help but zone out and reflect on the bullshit I went through. Various times I wanted to get up and walk the f*ck out. Not because it wasn’t a great movie. Tyler Perry did his thing, once again. But because I sit there thinking to myself, how could this female that I came with not understand why I told her I did not want to see this movie. Already being privy to the history of my marriage and all I dealt with, I assumed she would have been a little more conscious of what a movie like this would do to me, psychologically. But sometimes, people are just oblivious to certain things. What can you do?
There’s much more detail to this story; but I just can’t bring myself to write about it anymore tonight. It’s starting to hurt. Maybe I will make this a journal-themed entry and come back with more details another day. Who knows?
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