In an age of commitment phobs, mummy’s boys, cheaters, liars and dream sellers. Where we have more body counts, booty calls, and situations where is the room for a relationship. Friends then lovers? How about lovers and friends? I have questions a particular question:
What warrants a good woman going bad?
For me, it was a combination. Now it’s safe to say I wasn’t the most experienced in the realm of relationships. But love? I’d experienced two very different types. And by types I mean males-notice i don’t use the term men not yet anyway. Shade aside they were my only two real testimonies that meant anything.. Honestly speaking, I started relatively late. (Let me just put that out there) So it was back in ’09 (I honestly feel like i’m about to right a life story here.. just kidding!)
Quivering from a kiss, i almost thought this was it. I placed on my rose tinted glasses and rushed to my second period, College days. College days or should i say college lay? That consequently turned into the university booty call. Free periods, early mornings and late nights, pre and post lectures too. We had been committed had being a major key, loving and always very exploratory. My body was no longer a sacred, untouched entity. You know they say the first cut is the deepest? I actually don’t think it was. Childhood sweetheart initially maybe.. More a learning curve. I remember wearing my heart on my sleeve, being so vulnerable, and as much as I hate to say it needy. He was my boyfriend and I was his girl. We continued to explore it was all new.. but as my confidence grew I noted his dismay. You see even then i was not to be better than him. We were on different pages and started to want different things.. And i forgot to mention it all came to an end when he thought the grass was greener.And that was it.
Anyway his rebound was just that and after that there were a fair few girls. He came back after potentially an entire campus. But hey honey..nuh uh!! I was certainty testing the water too…
He was beautiful. Manly, Heaven sent, mysterious and I could not help myself. I wanted him over and over.The problem was that was great. It was great. We were great. So great it was almost too good to be true. (Sigh) The chemistry, sexual energy, connection, comfort, ease it was all there. Has anybody ever believed in the power of a soul tie? No right well, i didn’t until… I’d fallen, over and over and over. And it was not like before. -this was so much more intense. You see i knew what i liked this time and did not like the thought of ever being away from him. I knew what I wanted and I felt so alive. My rebound turned into an addiction (urmm… for my entire early adult life).. You know the times I should have had fun, experienced the ‘I am grown, fierce and in my prime type’ of years?! And guess what ladies he was a commitment phob through and through. There were ups and downs, great non-committal sex. Feelings oh hell there were feelings, indescribable, powerful. Heart thudding, legs shaking, butterflies in full effect feelings. But as i felt more, he pulled away. Came back, couldn’t stay away and then repeated this over and over- full circle. The cycle took its toll, the on’s the offs, the other women, the confusion. And one day the half hearted love just wasn’t enough. I felt he was running away and i couldn’t force what he said was not there. And even though he came back after a while,and then again after another while. I had to keep the drawers on. … and boy was it hard! Yes you’ve got it. We could speak, feel at ease and pretend to be friends. But it always ended with our bodies together, naked. You see i think that was the only time he really spoke- To my soul or maybe just to my uterus?! Anyway he had my heart and I left it with him. Real stupid.. right?
Some time later, I was asked why i’d not got back on the ‘market’, like a object. Would I seriously be left on the shelf? I’d had offers, past crushes, baes, and present little bits of eye candy- you know the overly helpful guy at the supermarket. ‘The Yo babes’, ‘Excuse me miss’, ‘Can i have your number/snap chat, instagram’ types of guys. The hood rat, the drug dealer, the office type, the lad, the stunter, the entrepreneur , the fraudster. Followed by the same lines: Can i buy you a drink?.. Response: I don’t drink (in fact i love a cheeky glass of wine, actually anything, rum on the rocks, JD and coke yes please) What’s your name? Response: smile and nod like the mute that so often makes and appearance. Hell, sometimes I don’t even utter a word of English just sounds.. and they leave. Honestly, I initially could not bare the thought of being with another man.I didn’t want to settle for senseless sex? I for one thought that would never be me… fast forward.. (rolls eyes)
Emotionally detached, coldness seeped through my soul. Armed with a statement red lip and in a little black dress.. (i knew what i was doing) I went on a date and things moved very quickly was I acting out of character? I am not entirely sure. Has this person always been there? Maybe, she was alive, strong and taking back control. And I kid you not it felt good in the moment.. so good. I did not care for his conversation, i wasn’t even listening. He was a handsome chappy, gym fanatic, somewhat egotistical, he was nice more than nice, tasty and he knew it a mans man and yeah he was a Man. I wanted that just for a while. I wanted to play, explore and do everything i hadn’t had, I wanted to seize the moment and live in it. I wasn’t scared or shy. I was a temptress and much to my surprise I did not even have to speak. Seduction savvy and super sassy.. He stripped and I watched soaking it all in. Roles reversed and i didn’t even have any bands to throw down- shit he was putting on a show and his body- his bodaaaaaayyy. Everything (Amen) We had sex, rounds, it was good. Tiring. I expected magic he was older, experienced, defined, chiseled (like I am sure i would have been able to drink out of the crevasses formed between his muscles). Everything I wanted superficially, he ticked most of those boxes. Yet even when he had his arms around me after something was lost. -It wasn’t love that we made. It was sex. I definitely didn’t want him taking up bed space. So I rolled over and turned my back to him. I felt the uncertainty from his body but I didn’t care. Numb the adrenaline had left my body all too quickly. I was not willing to take it on. It wasn’t my problem. Was I wrong for that? Maybe? Do I regret it? Certainly not.
A woman’s worth is so important yet i’d failed to see myself through myself . I saw myself in the in the eyes of another. Should a woman always play submissive? Is a male supposed to initiate sexual intimacy.. when will it be okay for a woman to utilise the power she has. What is wrong with a woman dominating. I liked it and maybe it wont be forever but power struggle my ass.
So anyway.. Mr Muscle wants another round.. Maybe when there is a void to fill, or an itch? When works out i just hope he doesn’t talk this time. Eurgh in fact Maybe not?!
My hearts still there somewhere I am sure but for now no feelings- Stone style.