A C C I S M U S| 18+ (haitus)

ACCISMUS- DRIAN

Thirty eight is starting off with Adrianna 'Drian' Cornwall's POV, she needs a backstory.

First person

The day I knew I fucked up was the day I pushed him down the stairs.

The events that led up to that moment was triggering, but I wasn't about to say that it was his fault.

Did I wanted to push him? Well, I was heated but it was never my intention to hurt him. I would've pushed him, like I always did, but I never expected the outcome to be that destructive or worst that he had to stumble especially down the flight of stairs.

I was impulsive.

Utterly compulsive and shit-

This was a part of me that I never spoke about.

The part that was always quick to answer and my actions were chaotic as I was never the one to think them over. I acted fast, I spoke rash and harsh. These things were beyond my control, but I at least try to regulate my severe anger issues. It was never stemmed through childhood or anything childhood related for that matter. I was bought up in a way that I never lacked anything and my parents made me comfortable that there was nothing to be angry about. I was wired that way, it was all too natural.

The second time I knew I fucked up was when my very own sister gave me a look of disappointment before I left. She normally didn't interfere in my business but that was the last straw. And cherry on top- I knew I fucked up deep down, when I was asked to seek therapy and because I wanted to get better, I took on the whole aspect of complete rehab- as I had drinking problems and had no idea when or how to stop. I took it seriously and went in for four months, and within those four month, ironically, it made me wanted to drink an entire crate of the strongest liquor and escape all the guilt. I was left with my thoughts, my thoughts mockd me and worst the guilt.

I wasn't even in the position to make friends to be able to gather a support system because even in a place full of people, I've still managed to feel lonely.

I was completely surrounded by substance abusers- who were in a more of a predicament than me but all I wanted was to maintain a level of sobriety that kept me emotionally and mentally stable and be taught by a professional on how to control my extremely strong emotions.

Dwhyte didn't call. Vern came and visited me every two weeks, since I was all the way up North but I was grateful o see a familiar face. I wanted to see him so bad, I asked about him countlessly, but my sister just gave me the basics. I knew that she was worried for me and thought I would have done something to myself- especially if she had told me that he had a whole new woman now. She didn't know that I know, and it hurt me that she could be loyal to a man that wasn't even his family.

But then again, I wasn't acting family-like towards her since the longest time, so I had to appreciate her for at least coming all the time to see me. Mom came, so did dad and a few family members but still.

He didn't text. It was the biggest sign that he had dropped me. All his time and patience had come to an end and I had no choice to accept the bitter truth.

Instead I was told he changed his phone but still, even after everything- yes, I fucked up. I hurt him. I dragged him. I did some unspeakable things to him for years now, and still, he gave me countless changes. Fuck! He was rooting for me, he gave me so much opportunities to redeem myself and still, like the cliché I am- again, I fucked it up.

I hurt the man I love. He was my ship and it had sailed, I was left by the coast in burning sun and dripping in salt water.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I cheated on the man I love. What was I thinking? He had been there for me for the longest time and I tarnished something like that.

I did everything but- something. Something nice. Something kind. Something thoughtful. Something that he would've liked- fuck! I remember that night how much he was bleeding. He didn't say anything, he didn't hit me back even when he possessed the strength and could've thrown me across the floor like an object.

He could've done so much things to retaliate, he could've bought me to the ground like nothing. I saw his strength, I knew his strength- yet he didn't. And it was the worst punishment. He always said I tried to make him look bad. That I made him look like he was aggressive. Like he was sensitive. Like he was the problem. He told me I was always playing the victim, that I disregarded everything he because because I was selfish.

He told me I was the woman he married seven years ago. I was kinder. I was someone that he always wanted to be around- but now—

Now.

I must've taken advantage when I knew that he wasn't going to leave me. He always said that, he wanted to be married and live a life like his parents did. One woman, just a beautiful monogamous relationship until old age. In their home, kids, love, happiness. I knew he wasn't going to leave me and I pushed every boundary until all lines were blurred and it became chaotic. And yet inspire all that, he told me that it was going to be a point where he will no longer fight for us anymore. And when that time comes, just know that he is hurting. Something had triggered that and and he doesn't want to re-experience it. I glanced down at the messages I've send him the days before, he had read it, but still haven't responded to anything. I felt like a knife was struck to my chest and still, it was there and it was disrupting all my systems. He was always the one to try and make it up to me, even when I was wrong but the lack of acknowledgement was enough for me.

I had returned from rehab little less than seventy-two hours: cooped up in my childhood bedroom as I was no longer welcomed at our marital home. I have to get a place soon. I glanced at my niece who was playing with her geometric shapes trying to build a tower but it shatter almost every time, I ignored her.

I had bigger fish to fry. She was a kid with an unbothered childhood.

"Lorna, come here baby. Come to auntie." The child gave me a weird look, even the child knew I wasn't this kind. She came regardless. I had an idea.

"Are you going to call uncle Dwhyte and ask him if he remembered your sweets?" She had just spoken to him the other day yet still I was urging the kid to make the call again. She pulled her phone from her pink purse and dialed Dwhyte.

The phone rang and it went to voicemail, I felt like I was going to cry if I didn't hear from him. I expected him to be here when I returned. I expected him to wait for me until I got myself set straight and be better for him. And get the apology he needed.

"Hello uncle." Lorna spoke on the phone, she didn't realize that she had rung a second time.

"Hey mama." Drian whimpered when she heard his voice. It was the same just sweeter but it had to be the fact that she hadn't heard it in a long time. "You're back from school now?"

"Yes, I'm playing with my shapes. Grandma's cooking and mom's helping her in the kitchen." Lorna added as she glanced at her aunt, Drian knew she was going to give her the phone she shook her hands quick in disapproval. She wanted to talk to him in person, not over the phone. She can't manage to scare him off.

"I got your sweets and a cute pink stoned bracelet. What else would you like, mama?" Dwhyte added, he was always so kind to her nieces and nephews. "I have to go, mama. Just text me and I'll respond, okay?"

"Okay. Bye"

The dialogue was quick but she was glad to hear his voice. He didn't sound depression like he did before she left. Low-key she was glad that he was on trip. He needed to be in a new environment, even if it's brief.

She was sad too. Dwhyte was out here doing his thing. He was happy.

Happy without her.