The beginning of our relationship can only be defined in one word.
Before our tryst, I told D that I didn’t have a girlfriend. Which was true. But I did, however, have a main, some sides and a couple of exes with benefits. That’s really why I was always tired.
Now, I know how this may come across but I didn’t consider myself a “playa” nor did I believe I was doing anything wrong by dating around and keeping my options open. When I was younger I had been given the advice to not take relationships serious until after college. By that logic, what I was doing was normal and therefor I didn’t feel compelled to tell D about any of the other women.
So I didn’t.
D and I had sex every day, sometimes three to five times a day during our dating period. We did it anywhere and everywhere. I’m talking throughout campus, her job, my job, in my car, on top of my car, at her friend’s house on the floor under the Xmas tree, on her mother’s couch...
We couldn’t get enough of each other. And better yet, it wasn’t just sexual, our conversations were intoxicating and her accomplishments were impressive. Not only was she a woman of Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority Incorporated but she was also crowned Miss Black and Miss NCNW while simultaneously serving as vice president for NAACP. She started a non-profit that actually made money, served in the Army and could beat me in chess.
D was a winner! And I had to claim my prize.
I told myself that I was going to do everything different with this one. College was over now and I wanted someone strong by my side to journey through life. By this time, I had the car, the place and a stable bank account with an income to match. I needed to make my next relationship move, my best one. Instead of blurting out, “Will you go out with me?” I decided to make the warm up to the question a romantic spectacle. I took D to where we had our first date at Fells Point and pulled her into a secluded spot overlooking the water by the piers. I sat on one of the logs so I could look up towards her as if I was proposing. Then with the glimmer of lights from the stars and moon bouncing off of the water and reflecting softly into our eyes, I asked her to be my girlfriend.
She said yes.
The next day I immediately began sending text messages to all of the women I had been seeing to announce my new romantic status. I wanted to be honest with them and thought that since I was being upfront, they would handle the news maturely and respect the fact that I “kept it real” with them.
BOY WAS I WRONG!
Within the span of one week, my car was egged/keyed, my bank account was compromised, crap thrown on my door, a ridiculous amount of pizza ordered and sent to my apartment, private calls and on and on. Two of the women even joined forces and became friends just for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc on me. They contacted D’s mother with the hopes of outing her but wasn’t aware that she had already came out. I even had a few lies spread about me. But even in the midst of the storm, I remained calm because I was aware that all of the turmoil was the result of hurt feelings and as long as I had D by my side, in due time it would all settle down.
Too bad D didn’t feel the same way and dumped me after only being together for 8 days.
I said EIGHT!!!!!
I was shell shocked. The very woman I had conjured up the storm of a woman’s wrath for, had abandoned me.
I saw no further use in enduring taunts so I quickly began making up with the women. I was back at square one with no real girlfriend and two main women who had just lost control of themselves to possess me.
I didn’t engage with D for a few weeks and when we did run into each other, all that would happen was, our eyes would lock and we’d grip onto each other’s gazes until it was no longer possible.
It was intense. It was weird. It assured me that there was still something there.
I continued to mainly date these two women and even managed to slip away for other scandalous affairs. But I knew that something inside wasn’t right when I began telling one of my crushes about my hardships with D.
I had wanted my crush from the moment I laid eyes on her, first while in her dorm room during her freshman year and then again when she came to check mail while I was attending the front desk as a Resident Assistant. I knew I had an intense attraction to her the moment I busted her and her quad mates throwing a party in their suite. Instead of writing them all up, issuing fines and lighting up their files as I was instructed to do, just two days prior, I simply told them to shut everything down. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t want to get her in trouble, do the paperwork or if it was how she looked standing there in her bra. Either way, I knew my crush had an effect on me. So I went HARD to go get her. Any time I had with her I tried my best to steal a bit of her attention, laugh or affection. The week of graduation we ran into each other in the parking lot and when we hugged, I pulled her in as close as I could and held her.
She let me.
We all went out to the club and though she and I were surrounded by friends, associates and strangers, my focus was on her. While she was sitting on one of the mini stages I walked over and in an instant, stole a kiss.
She kissed back.
Fast forward, now, here I was, getting my opportunity to continue to fulfill my fantasy with a crush and I was talking about D. I even pulled out the ceremonial pin that D had given to me and showed my crush with the hopes of her enforcing my belief that the gifting of it was important.
I needed answers.
My heart was spiraling out of my chest and it was taking my mind with it. I couldn’t be fully engaged with my crush. I rationed that it was because I needed to be fully engaged with D.
A few days later, I was using my sister’s laptop, scrolling Facebook and out of the blue a photo of D popped up with her and the ex of a mutual friend.
They were now in a relationship.
I was devastated and cried for about an hour in the bathroom that night.
Nothing made sense.
So I decided to carry love that way and spiraled out of control. I had grown so accustom to my promiscuous lifestyle that I even considered dawning the tattoo “womanizer” on my chest but changed my mind last minute and settled for “Crown Me.”
Life was moving along. I was beginning to spend more time with one of my exes and had even given her back the diamond ring I had taken when we broke up. I was considering asking her to move in with me and start over fully, engaged and all. I was lying in her bed. It was approximately 3 a.m. in the morning. My ex worked a weird early shift at the airport and was getting up to get ready for work. She had just given me head and took pride in not having me return the favor as she wanted me to rest and remember her for the rest of the day. As soon as she closed the bathroom door, I reached under the pillow and pulled my phone out. I scrolled to D’s name and created a text asking if she was up.
I sent it.
My wife and I have been together since 2010.
That’s 8 years.
Eight entire years of being with the same woman – day in and day out.
Our union wasn’t an expected one because we’re literally morning and night. She’s bubbly, conversational and full of energy. I’m nonchalant, quiet unless engaged and often wake up sleepy.
To know us, individually from back in the day, had many asking “How the hell did you two end up together?!” Or my favorite, “D, how did you do that?!” in reference to my now monogamous ways. I often ask her the same question and I’m lead back to that life changing morning when my phone alerted me of a notification at 3 a.m…
Too Strong For You
I’d known my wife since she was 17 and even mentored her throughout her LGBTQ activities at school. I saw her as a play daughter and was willing to offer advice, my ear and time whenever needed. I had recently graduated from our Alma Mata and was in transition to the “real world” while enjoying a small magnitude of leftover college partying and women. The last time I had spoken to D, I invited her out to catch up and enjoy an iced coffee at Lake Montebello but it never happened. So now here I was, fresh from the club, fully intoxicated and enjoying some Eggos, my drunk food of choice, when D hit my phone. The conversation was very light and surprisingly short. But this behavior of contacting me around 3 a.m. repeated itself over the next few days. Then finally instead of the usual small chat, she started our conversation by asking if I had a girlfriend. This confused me a bit. Why would that matter? I thought but I answered no. (Which technically was true). D then texted an “I’m grown, you’re grown, what would you do if I showed up like this?” message followed by a provocative photo that I never imagined her to have or know how to pose for…
Next thing I knew, I was in the parking lot of her apartment complex waiting for her in my Mustang.
When D walked outside, she had on an oversized teal blue sweatshirt of our Alma Mata, some unflattering pajama pants and bright orange clogs. (*tires screech and baby cries*)
I was used to women greeting me in heels, form fitted dresses, trench coats with lingerie under…..ALL THAT….NEVER IN MY LIFE had I shown up for a date, sex date or chill-session and the woman not look magazine ready. But this girl….
When D got into my car, I smiled, told myself that I can count this as another experience, turned up the radio and we drove off.
We weren’t even two blocks from her place when she turned down my radio and began probing me for conversation. This also raised my eyebrow. I wasn’t here to talk.
Why do you want to talk?! DAMNIT!! ABORT MISSION! ABORT! ABORT!
We talked the entire car ride to my place and continued once we were inside my apartment. Once inside, she immediately admired my bookshelf and array of books. I sheepishly began talking about them, internally preparing for a nerd joke but to my surprise she paid attention and seemed interested. WHAT?!
Time was flying as we continued to be engulfed in conversation. I was enjoying the exchange of words and the realization that I had never had a full blown, in-depth conversation with her. I was intrigued. D was smart!
As if she could see the complacency in my eyes, D clapped her hands, sprung from my couch like a cheerleader and proceeded to let me know that she was ready for some action. A ping of nervousness overcame me. I had completely pushed sex out of my mind and subconsciously placed her in the “besties!” category.
I am a woman of my word! If I say that I am going to give you the business, it is the business that you shall receive!
I took a shot of alcohol and lead her to my bedroom.
As I was setting up my sex playlist, I instructed her to get comfortable. I adjusted the speakers and when I turned around, D’s sweatshirt and PJ pants were gone, leaving a sexy slip-like lingerie piece that hugged, kissed and teased those hidden curves. In an instant, D went from girl to WOMAN. The light that seeped into my bedroom bounced off the cream colored nighty and drew me in like a moth to a Ginger-flame. (HA). I took off the rest of her clothing like an excited child opening a Christmas gift, anxious to see what’s uncovered. I figured, if the over-sized clothing was hiding ALL THAT, I NEEDED to see what the lingerie was doing. I nearly gasped when I saw the large Panther tattoo that decorated the lower to mid-section of her back.
This goodie-goodie wasn’t so good after all.
After what felt like a whirlwind, I forced myself from the bed and began turning off the music and preparing to sleep. While I was doing that, D leaped out of bed and began getting dressed. I playfully asked what she was doing and she replied,
“You don’t cuddle with your friends do you?”
I can’t remember exactly how long my mouth hung open (I wasn’t facing her) but to save face I let out a nonchalant chuckle, got dressed and drove her back home, wondering how the hell did she flip the entire script on me…… and when was I going to be able to see her again.
Spades is more than just a game.