Stab Me, Baby
I should have known my place.
I am sorry.
I should have remembered who I was dealing with.
A respectable member of society. A suit-wearing family man. You. A loving husband. A caring father. A friendly, likeable, law-abiding, church-going member of our community. How stupid of me to forget that? Can you believe me?
I hope you can forgive me. But if you can’t find it in your big forgiving church-going heart to forgive me, I hope you will punish me for my mistakes.
Weren’t my mistakes many though? Name any random mistake from your big book of mistakes, and I committed it. But bless me father, for I have sinned. I started by looking your way when I shouldn’t have been doing so in the first place. I mean, you are married. What was I thinking? Why did that ring on your finger not stop me from smiling back at you when you showed me your teeth the first time we met?
And I’m not even sure you were smiling at me. Chances are, the good man you are, you were not even smiling at me. Maybe your teeth only happened to be exposed as you thought about your wife. Maybe at that exact moment, you were thinking about her delicious cooking and her voluptuous ass. So I saw you, fool that I am, I saw you thinking about your wife, and instead of reading your thoughts like I’ve been taught, I mistook your exposed teeth to mean that you were smiling at me and that you were interested in me. The sheer nerve!
When you approached me, I should have known you only were coming to talk to me about what a fellow member of your community like myself thought about your leadership. But there I went again. Going wild. Mistaking your approach to mean that you wanted to spend the evening with me. So I started chatting with you about my life and listening as you told me about yours. I had the audacity to listen and nod and smile as I sipped the drink that you bought for me. I even wowed and a-ha’d at your sinless, perfect life, damn it! What’s wrong with me?
But being the man you are, the respectable, kind, blah, blah, blah, man that you are, you didn’t want to embarrass me and so you went ahead and allowed me the time of day. You must have been very distressed when I kept returning your messages and showing up when you asked that we meet. How could I do that? How could I say yes to sleeping with you when I knew you were married? But what could you do? When you asked and I said yes, you had no choice. I was a whore with no boundaries and you didn’t know what to do with me. How could you say no to my saying yes to you?
So, poor guy, you let me have sex with you several times. And you didn’t even use protection. I mean, you were rich and all, but you couldn’t even buy condoms. How were you expected to remember to buy condoms? I kept swimming from one mistake to another. I was drowning in mistakes. So unfortunate that you had to witness all that.
Naturally, I became pregnant. I guess that’s what happens when people have unprotected sex, huh? Silly me, I told you about the pregnancy. You had a wife and kids and here I was carrying another kid for you. A baby you had not even asked for. To be fair to you, you only had unprotected sex, but you did not ask to have a baby. Even without protection, the not asking should count for something at least. All you did was have sex with me. And you were not even keen on it. But I am a whore. What were you to do when all a whore thinks about is having sex?
I see how your life was becoming complicated. What with my pregnancy and all. What with giving you things you didn’t even want? I must have messed up your life really bad. Because now, with the baby on the way, I needed things from you. Baby needed things from you. And we also needed a house to live in. Imagine the nerve of me asking you to take care of a child you had sired. What was I, crazy?
I understand why you wish you never met me. Is that why you have a knife in your hand. Do you want all your problems to go away? Do you want me to poof! and disappear into thin air? Is that what you’ve come to do? Make me disappear?
I don’t blame you. If I disappear, you go back to being the respectable, suit-wearing, church-going law-abiding, blah, blah, blah, member of society. If I disappear all your problems disappear with me.
So don’t just stand there. Go ahead, honey. Don’t hesitate. Dig that knife into my bones and make me bleed. Rapture an artery or two to make sure that I’m gone in a minute or less. Don’t forget to drive the knife into my stomach too. Put your back into it. Make sure your progeny never gets to see the light of day. Stab me continuously. My stomach and my heart. Make my heart bleed for you. Don’t forget to stab me in the back. I apologize in advance for when my back hurts your knife. Forgive me.
I’ll try not to cause you any more problems. In fact, when you stab me, I will hold the blood in so that my bleeding doesn’t leave a mess.
When my body is cold, don’t feel the need to care. No. I wouldn’t have you worry about that. Just leave it out there for those who love me to find it. Can you believe there were days I used to think that you made part of my “loved ones” gang? Was I crazy or what?
Anyway, I will be cold shortly. A problem taken care of. A problem gone. Just as you want it.
You will then be free to go back to being the man people know and love. You will finally get to enjoy a life without me in it.
You finally get to teach me a lesson. Show me my place.
Go ahead. Stab me, baby.