Having Daughter’s Isn’t God Punishing You For Being A Womanizer; It’s Just Your Guilty Conscience

father and daughterYesterday was Mother’s Day and I spent it at my cousin’s house with family. As we were outside talking about life and kids and responsibility we started to talk about children. And how it was a consensus among all the men that having daughters was somewhat terrifying. Not because little girls are worse than boys or grow up to be angry women but because of our guilty consciences.

For all of my life, even before I started dating I knew there were double standards for boys and girls. Men are often times praised for having multiple conquest and women are shamed for it. A guy can be a whore is entire life and if he changes to be faithful to one woman and love her right; the whole world applauds him. On the other hand, if a woman is a whore, that stigma never leaves. That’s an entirely different conversation but just as example.

I’m not sure when this became a thing but it’s probably been around for centuries. Somewhere along the way men got it in their heads that God or fate was cursing them by giving them daughters. Especially if that man was a womanizer. You want to know something funny and sad at the same time? Watch a grown man project all of his guilt and sins and tortured conscience onto an innocent child. Not because she’s doing anything wrong but because in her he sees every woman he ever lied to, cheated on, misused or abused. In her he sees fear, the fear that he’ll have to dry her tears because a man breaks her heart.

As much as we want to believe that having a daughter is karma for the bad you’ve inflected on others; a much easier thought to believe is that maybe there’s no secret revenge plot by God and fate but it was just the sperm that made it first. Maybe instead of projecting your insecurities onto your daughter, you could give her confidence and not let the double standards and misogyny that you were raised with live in how you raise her. Maybe you raise a daughter strong enough not to ever let a man disrespect her like you disrespected women. All of that takes looking inside of yourself.


Scottie Pippen Is A Better Man Than Me

102216-sports-future-larsa-scottie-pippen I don’t write a lot about pop culture or celebrity gossip but is something really gossip if all the parties involved acknowledge it happened? When your woman is on social media all over a guy you really can’t blame anyone else but her. Don’t get mad at the paparazzi or blogs for reporting on a fire that her and Future started.

Why is Scottie Pippen a better man than me? I’m not one of those guys that’s going to pretend like I would never take a woman back for cheating. I’ve never had to make that decision but I can imagine that if you love a woman enough anything is possible. See, it’s not the cheating, it’s the flaunting it to the world that would close that door for me. Allowing another man to basically say, “This isn’t my woman, just a lil something I’m messing around with right now.” I can’t do it bro. Call it pride, call it arrogance, I don’t care. I mess up and you go out and get in another relationship, that’s on me. I mess up and you become a full on groupie? Girl bye.

Future has become our generations fu*kboy idol. I really do wish I could use a better term and believe me I racked my brain trying to find one but this is the most accurate term possible. He raps about drugs, how little value women have and hates the mother of his child because she moved on and found happiness. And before I get the, “It’s just music” crowd commenting. It can’t be just music when you not only rap about taking another man’s wife but you snapchat it and tweet about it and take pride in it. There are a generation of tattoo’d, skinny jean wearing, penicillin taking guys that idol the ain’t shi*ness of Future. Your wife leaves for him, you just have to throw the whole wife away and get a new one before Trump bans her country.

To be fair, I’ve never been married so maybe I don’t understand the love and energy it takes to fight for a marriage when you know you’ve both done wrong. Regardless of all of that, can’t do it bro. I wish Scottie the best and I hope Jordan forgives you for bringing this sort of energy to the legacy of the Bulls.

Stop Blaming Social Media or Outdated Stereotypes for Bad Behavior

385448_213663785373354_118911191515281_532154_1408080341_nI’ve been in a relationship for about two years now. You know how many women that I was friends with or that I knew casually have approached me in a manner that’s flirtatious or disrespectful? None. Not one. Every text, phone call or message has been to congratulate me or simply to catch up or say hello. Women don’t find men in relationships more attractive; often times men in relationships let the world know they’re still available.

There’s perception and then there’s reality. You can’t flirt and be accessible and friendly and then complain that women or men aren’t accepting of your relationship. I have some amazing friends that I’d hang out with. Happy hours, long conversations, dropping them off at the airport. Once I got in a relationship or they got in a relationship that friendship dynamic changed. They had a long day, they call their man. They go to happy hour or talk about it, with their man. The same for me. They aren’t acting funny or being fake friends, it’s just called growing up.

I want to ask a serious question. Have you ever seen someone that was in a dope relationship talk about other people’s relationship or problems? I don’t mean casual pillow talk with your man or woman. I don’t mean casual gossip with your girls. I mean, it’s every day and it’s not just one or two couples but it’s all the time. You don’t see that type of behavior out of people that are good. But you see it out of people that are lying to themselves.

If a woman compliments my writing at 2am and I respond in her inbox, “Thanks, I love when women are up late reading my words.” With that one sentence I just told her I was available. I can try and tell myself I didn’t do anything wrong and that’s the problem with women these days, they think every guy is flirting, etc. But I’d be lying to myself. There are lines you don’t cross and you shouldn’t want to cross. Not if you’re happy with what you have at home.

Losing You Made Me Better For Her

There are mornings I wake up and I see you in front of me wrapped in a towel fresh out the shower.

There are mornings I’m cooking breakfast when I get off work and I want to come in the bedroom, kiss you on your cheek and tell you to come eat before it gets cold.

I miss you or maybe I miss the things we did or maybe I miss the way you made me feel or maybe I just miss having someone.

Writing in the morning I have visions of you sneaking up behind me, pushing my chair back, moving my laptop and sitting on the edge of my desk. Your robe parted, my hands cold so your thighs shivering at my touch.

Your scent natural and unique, your skin soft and inviting. Most mornings I don’t even miss sex, I just miss kissing your stomach and lying there, feeling your warmth. Being consumed by the storm your presence brought to my life. I needed to lose that storm, I needed to fall into abyss to realize what I had. I won’t mess up next time, I know this in my heart, in the depths of my soul.

Maybe it’s not fair but the next woman won’t have to deal with the mood swings, the insecurities, the fear of failure and regret I wore like a backpack full of bricks. Your smile was so perfect, your laugh, your lips. I don’t miss kissing you, I miss that moment right before a kiss when you know it’s coming and your heart beats just a little bit faster. The next her will feel my presence in everything she does because I’ll make myself so memorable and honorable that her heart will beat for me like it has never beaten for another man. I owe that to my failure with you.

I won’t take her for granted when she tells me she just needs to feel like we’re progressing. I won’t turn to readers and alcohol and groupies when she’s too tired or working or needs her space. I’ll be everything to her that I wasn’t to you because I don’t ever want to see hate in another woman’s eyes that’s because of me. I want her tears to come from orgasms she can’t control and joy she can’t hide. Not heartbreak and fear and rage. We will fight over the remote, not because I didn’t come home.

Do I have regrets? Everyday and everyday I’m learning to move on from those regrets. There’s a part of me that’s still closed off and that scares me because I want to give my all. The all I didn’t give to you. You made me better and I just want to thank you for that. I still check up on you from time to time. I may not call or text but know I’m watching, I’m here, if you ever need anything.

~ 20140822-233539.jpgDemez

No Crying Over the Mistress

Showers are a gift from the Gods! The steam, body scrubs, shampooing, the way the water hits my back and my face. When I was growing up, we didn’t have a shower in the house, only a bathtub and for eighteen years I took a bath every night. I honestly can’t remember the last time I took a bath now. I shower like two, three times a day… Just for the experience, just for the relaxation it brings.

I stepped out the shower and grabbed a towel wrapping it around my waist. The bathroom was spotless, it was always spotless, my wife just didn’t play when it came to a clean home. Hell, after only two years of marriage I was trained to pick up every towel, wash every dish and to use a coaster. I took my left hand and wiped the steam off the window. My wedding band catching my eye, I never took it off, never.

Letting the water in the sink get hot, I washed my face with some Apricot Scrub, brushed my teeth. Trimmed any loose hairs around my goatee and just stared at myself. I was a man that had it all, the American Dream and I also lived every single day with the fear that my wife would find out I had a side ho. I guess I could call her a mistress or “the other woman” but the truth was, I was spending money out of our household to take care of this woman. I wasn’t falling in love with her, it was just sex. Really good, really nasty sex. Something my wife just didn’t have time for; don’t get me wrong, when we had it, it was amazing! But it happens to far and between for my liking.

Just thinking about her, how excited she gets when I send her a text and tell her I found some time for her or when I bring her some flowers or actually take her somewhere. There’s nothing like that “grateful sex” you get from a woman that’s just not used to getting a lot. It’s like tonight, she wants to go see a movie so I told her to find a nice out of the way theater and restaurant and I’ll make the time. All day, she’s been texting me about what she’s going to wear and what we’re going to see. I don’t even think my wife would sit thru a two hour movie, let alone get excited about it.

I kept my towel wrapped, dried my feet off on the rug and walked across the cold hard wood floors to the closet. A pair of grey slacks, a white button down shirt and a burgundy v-neck sweater from would be my attire for the night. Black belt, black loafers, Skagen watch with the blue face and black leather band and Kenneth Cole Black Cologne. I was a little bit of a perfectionist when it came to me appearance.

Black boxers, burgundy socks and black tank top underneath and in ten minutes my outfit was on and I was ready to go.

Stepping out the closet, walking over to the dresser to get my wallet, keys and money clip I could feel her standing in the door.

“You look nice, where are you getting ready to go?”

The thing about lying to your wife is simple; you can’t actually tell a lie. Because no matter how much she trusts you, she’ll check up on you sooner or later and she’ll remember where you said you were going two months from now. So, I always had a real live event, party, social function scheduled for whenever I was going to go see my side ho. And the reason is, if my wife asks questions or if she decides she wants to go, I’ll have a real place to take her. An alibi that doesn’t depend on a friend that might want to sleep with her or something else.

“Benjamin is having a little get together tonight for his birthday, I know we don’t talk like we used to but he’s a pretty cool guy. I thought I would go over there and have a couple of drinks, give my well wishes.” She walked over to where I was standing in front of the dresser, “Hold this.” She handed me her wine glass.

“You smell good; I didn’t know if that sweater would fit you, you’ve lost a little weight lately. Let me fix your collar.”

Her fingers grazed my neck while she was straightening my collar, she was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that. A pair of pink boy shorts, a white tank top, no bra. Her body screamed fuck me, but she just didn’t like to fuck. It was weird, but I married her knowing that.

“I think I want to go, where is it.” I couldn’t show her that I wanted with all my heart for her to stay her ass at home.

“It’s at Hotel ZaZa.”

“I love their Martinis! I want to go.” I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into my body.

“Baby, I want you to go, but you know it’s going to take you a minute to be ready and I don’t want to be too late.” She looked up at me and gave me a peck on the lips.

“Boy! It takes you way longer than it takes me, I got my hair fixed earlier and I just got out the shower so let me throw on a little makeup, I have the perfect dress and shoes and I’ll be like thirty minutes. Go downstairs, fix yourself a drink, listen to some music and I’ll be down shortly.” She kissed me again, this time with her full lips and tongue.

“Al, I know it’s been awhile and I know how much sex means to you. So, I’m going to pack us a bag and we can just get a room tonight at ZaZa. We’ll call into tomorrow and maybe go to the beach, I know Galveston isn’t exactly the Bahamas but I want to spend a weekday enjoying my husband.”

I just watched her taking off her clothes and walking into her closet, she really was breathtaking. The truth was, I would trade one night of drinking and dancing and eating and sex with my wife for a hundred with a side ho.

“That’s a great idea baby; I’m looking forward to it. I’ll make reservations for a room downstairs. Hey… I forgot, let me go fill up and run to the liquor store to buy him a bottle before it turns nine. By the time I get back, you should be ready.”

I grabbed my keys, took the stairs two at a time and went down to the garage. I kept my second phone in my car and my wife hated driving so I wasn’t worried about her snooping around in here. I jumped in, let up the garage and backed out. I waited until I cleared the corner before I called Erica.

“Hey baby! Are you on your way, I’m almost ready!” I could hear the excitement in her voice.

“Change of plans E.” I didn’t really feel bad; I just sort of felt dirty for having to justify my actions to a woman I had no real ties to.

“You promised Allen!”

“I know I promised baby, but things happen. It’s not like I planned this, I just forgot. I’m going to make it up to you.”

“You’re always “going to make something up” to me! I get tired of the SAME SHIT OVER AND OVER! I WANT A REAL MAN IN MY LIFE! I’VE BEEN FUCKING WITH YOU FOR A YEAR AND WE’VE SPENT THREE NIGHTS TOGETHER!? THREE NIGHTS!!!” She was yelling and crying and I was so over it already.

“What do you want me to say?! You knew what was up when I met you; there was no cloak and dagger SHIT! I told you I was married, I told you my wife was going to come first! HELL, I WAS WITH MY WIFE AND YOU STILL CAME UP TO ME WHEN SHE WENT OUTSIDE TO TAKE THAT CALL! So, don’t start whining and shit tonight because I can’t take you to a movie. IT’S A FUCKING MOVIE!”

I didn’t mean to get mad at her, but how much can a man take. She pursued me, not the other way around. She knew I was married.


She loves me, is this bitch crazy? I was really about to lose it now.


I could here her hyperventilating.


She gets them in her name but I give her the cash, I guess she’s forgetting about that part.

“I’m just tired Allen… I’m just tired of not having anyone to hold me at night; you’re over there with her. Talking about HER day, eating dinner with HER, cooking dinner with HER, watching Monday Night Football WITH HER and I’m the bitch you call when you want your dick sucked before you go to work. How do you think that makes me feel?”

It should make you feel like you give good head, that’s a compliment. I just held the phone as I walked in the store. I guess she needed to vent.

“HOW DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FUCKING FEEL!!!!? I JUST NEED MORE TIME DADDY! I just need more time; I miss you when we’re not together.”

I wanted to hang up in her face, I was excited about spending the night with my wife, but I wasn’t stupid. You didn’t just throw a woman away. Because she would find a way to get back at you.

“I know you miss me Erica, I know you do. And believe me when I tell you, I miss you too at times. But this isn’t going to end with me leaving my wife. With her going out the back door and you coming in the front. It never was and I won’t lie to you like it is now. If you can’t handle what we have, then you should move around, go get a man of your own baby girl. Someone that can be there when you call, someone that can walk around the Galleria with you or can take you to concerts or the Breakfast Club or Rockets Games; because I can’t do it! I can’t risk one of my wife’s friends seeing me with you. Yeah I know that shit sounds cold, but it’s the truth.”

There was a thin line between keeping it real and running game. I liked to think I played the line perfectly. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.


And now that she’s all hot like this, the next time I see her, she’s going to do everything in her power to try and make me stay. Checkmate.

“Listen E, I’m not going to do this; I just called you to cancel for tonight because I figured you deserve that much. But all this drama, you yelling and crying… that’s not for me baby. I understand you’re hurt and you caught feelings but charge that shit to the game. The next time you want a man, go find one that’s either single or has a woman at home that you know for a fact you can replace. I know I’m as asshole for cheating on my wife, but she’s just always tired. Between her working and doing charitable and social events, she just doesn’t have time for the sort of sex drive I have. It was good meeting you Erica, I mean that.”

“Is this goodbye Allen… Seriously, you’re going to tell me goodbye over the phone. Don’t I at least deserve a goodbye in person… please? I won’t ask to see you again; I just want to see you one last time. Please…”

I just held the phone, I had every intention on seeing her young freaky ass again, but the thing was. I had to put her in her place. If I let her think she could just pull a temper tan tantrum and get her way… she would do it all the time.

There are two types of side chicks. The ones that need you financially and sexually, those are the best ones because it’s simply an arrangement. They probably date and have broke boyfriends, whatever. Maybe they’re just single and need some good sex. You can walk away from those women easy. And then you have single women that want something serious but their willing to settle for half a man. They have homes, cars, good jobs; they don’t need your money or even sex. They just want a relationship and they feel like they can take you. Those women are the worse because they love hard and they only get the good parts of you.

“I can’t come tonight or tomorrow. I’ll try to come by this weekend.”

“If you can’t come see me at least tomorrow, I’ll hurt myself Allen; I’m not saying this to get your attention. I’m saying it because I miss you; I just need to see you. You’ve done this to me, if you didn’t want me in your life, you shouldn’t have made love to me the way you did. Treated me the way you do!”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself Erica, just calm down and I’ll see you this weekend. I have to go.”

I hung up the phone and cut if off, filled up and headed back towards our house to pick up my wife. I got a text on my regular cell; I could see it lightening up on my consul.

“If something happens to me or the baby, it’s on you!”


I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it, if she did hurt herself or a baby, what did it matter.


What You Won’t Do… Another Man Will

hot-sec.jpgI often write very glowingly about women, pretty much on a daily basis. I do this because I’m a positive person, what I don’t say, what I don’t really write about is how many really manipulative and nasty women there are in this world and there are a lot. Not too many women are going to fall in that top 10 percentile.






Sex Appeal.

So when men find one like that I think what happens is they get spoiled and the longer she’s in his life, the more he takes for granted just how special she is. Especially if he isn’t her equal. If we looked at things from a biblical, religious point of view… we’re all created equal. We’re all God’s children. But this is the real world and in the real world we’re judged by our actions, our motives, our ambitions, not our intentions.

Intentions get you nowhere in life, you could have the best intentions in the world and still be a screw up. Life is about actions and reactions, ambitions and plans. When I was out last night and this afternoon I saw a couple of women that were really exceptional. I knew them from FB and I’d met them out and about once or twice but this weekend I got to really look at them.

That’s actually the cool thing about FB, you can get to know someone from a distance and once you meet them you sort of put their internet persona with their live persona and you have it all. And what I got from them was… their men must have been idiots. Look, I’m fully aware that you’ll never know a woman from the outside looking in but what I do know is that I’m a good judge of character.

And you would be amazed at how many men lose good women over the following things.

Insecurity- If your woman is pretty, men are going to flirt with her, ex’s will never stop calling or texting or sending FB messages no matter how many times she tells him she’s taken. It’s the price you pay for having a bad ass woman. And if a guy doesn’t feel like he deserves her or he sees the way people look at them when they walk into a room. He’s going to blow it eventually because he’ll never live up to what he thinks she wants. Not realizing that what she wants is him, including all your shortcomings.

Jealously- This is the weird one, a small amount of jealously adds passion, it shows concern, women like the idea that you still get a little salty over that co-worker that calls after work hours or the bartender that’s a little too friendly. But that’s pretty much where it stops. Tripping over guy friends, checking phones and calling too much, that will have her drained. And once a woman gets drained it’s over.

Whores- This is self explanatory.

Finances- When a woman is selfless, she’s really selfless. I know women that don’t go shopping for themselves without buying the man in their life something. They go out of their way for his birthday, for Christmas, if he gets a promotion. They take pride in giving. When a man can’t do the same, it hurts his pride and pride is a slow ticking time bomb to her cashing out.
Now let me wrap this up in a bow and bring in full circle.

There will always be men on the outskirts that see the jealously, insecurity, other women, money issues and just stress he’s putting her under. These aren’t the guys that will blow her phone up or call her to throw salt on the guy. These aren’t guys that will ask her to dinner or lunch. These are just men that appreciate who and what she is and know that women like her are rarely single. These are the guys that probably lost a good woman and have no intention on letting a woman like yours slip away. So if you don’t treat her right one of these guys will.

What people forget is that there was a man in Michelle’s life before Barack. There was a man in Beyonce’s life before Sean. There was a man in Kate’s life before William. These are extreme examples but the point is the still the same, women make men better, they have throughout time. And when you find one that makes you better, don’t fuck it up.

Another Man’s Child…

a belly “Can I touch it?”

“It’s not going to bite you.”

Two years, maybe more than that since I’d seen her. There wasn’t the awkwardness I thought there would be but it was still weird seeing her sitting on my couch. I wanted to touch it, she said it was alright if I did but it just didn’t feel right. Considering it wasn’t mines anymore. She was still beautiful, still sexy, still everything I remembered, everything that motivated me. Getting in front of her on my knees I put my hands on it, rubbed it. She giggled, she smiled, I looked up at her and saw she was happy. As long as she was happy that’s all that mattered to me.

Her stomach wasn’t big enough for a baby bump but with her shirt unbuttoned and her sitting down it wasn’t hard to tell. I couldn’t take my hand away, I kept hoping he would kick or growl or whatever babies do. I just wished he was mine, for the moments my hands were on her skin I wished we were enjoying this together and she wasn’t just here to pick up a book and see how I was doing.

The bible said it was wrong to covet another man’s wife but it didn’t say anything about another man’s fiancé. She smelled like I remembered even though I didn’t know the perfume, her hair was the same, she looked a little more mature but it fit her. I met her when she was barely 21 now she was almost 24. I met a girl, the woman sitting on my couch was a woman. She was comfortable around me, secure around me. I couldn’t deny I still loved her but I also couldn’t deny she was in love with him. Kissing her stomach while she played in my hair I knew today was only about pleasure for her. Sliding my tongue past her bellybutton I knew I’d probably never see her again but if this was our goodbye I would make her remember it.


Love Me Like You Mean It… Or Don’t Love Me At All

wpress“I can’t go into the new year like this.”

“Like what?”

She knew what I was talking about, her back was to me but I could see her reflection in the mirror. Her smile was there but I could see her hands shaking trying to fasten the necklace. I walked behind her and took it out her hands, snapped it on for her, kissed the back of her neck.

All of 2012 I’d accepted our situation, when you’re an adult there’s no victims, no naivety. I could see her on Facebook, pictures with him smiling and laughing like she wasn’t just in my bed. Houston is a big city with small circles, she’d be holding his hand, looking at me with whatever flavor of the month it was and look at me like I was breaking her heart. Silent thoughts that would explode into arguments and explosive sex a day later. Concerts, parties, restaurants, our sin was our salvation. If loving a woman that was promised to someone else was a sin I was spitting in God’s face and unapologetic about it. But I couldn’t’ go into the New Year like that… I couldn’t keep that hope that there would be a happily ever after.

“Don’t I love you like I mean it?” She turned around and pressed her head against mine. “I give you more of me than I’ve ever given him! Ever!” Her hands were on my shoulders, gripping me. We didn’t move, for a minute or two we just stayed there like that.

“What does it matter how much of yourself you fucking give me if you’re his wife!? I’m writing about marriage and values and love all the damn time! I’m going out and smiling and selling a brand that’s a lie because I’d rather kill myself drinking every night having a piece of you than live having all of someone else! I can’t go into another year like that baby! I can’t! This ends today, leave this house and I don’t want to see you again.” The words felt like acid was poured directly on my heart. I felt like a failure every time she walked out my door, every time she made an excuse for not being there when I needed her. I would take the pain and hurt into the New Year but I needed to be happy and that meant not taking her.

She pushed me away and smiled, stepping into her heels he bought, grabbing her keys to the car he bought, picking up the bag that was probably some gift from him. She looked at the picture on the nightstand of us that only I knew about. The one that only got to be up when she was here or I was alone for fear someone would recognize her.

“If I walk out that door, I’m not coming back. I know things aren’t ideal right now and I can’t say when they’ll change but if any of those women held a candle! A FUCKING CANDLE!!! To what we have then you’d be with them! You wouldn’t cancel dates and not claim those bitches for fear that you’ll hurt my feelings! You need me like I need you, don’t let your pride fuck that up baby…”

The keys tapped against her leg, I could hear her breathing. This was our routine, I tell her I couldn’t do this, she cries… I cry, my heart breaks and we fuck on the floor or the couch or the bed or the dresser and she kisses me like she’s going out for milk when she’s really going home to fuck her husband. That ended today.

“Goodbye. Loving you feels wrong and it shouldn’t feel that way.”

“Come here. Come here!” She grabbed my hand and pulled up her dress, putting my fingers between my legs.

“You feel that, you feel how wet she is, how it’s beating! I don’t shower when I leave here! I don’t go home and fuck him like I do you! I close my eyes and think about you when he’s inside of me, I cry with the lights off and run to the bathroom and throw up or shower or text you! You think this shit is easy for me! You can’t give up on us, you can’t!” She thought sex could save us and maybe a month ago, a week ago, it could have. But spending Christmas Eve alone, the thought of NYE alone, loving a woman as hard as a man can love a woman and not being able to tell a soul? I’d rather spend 2013 alone grieving the lost of the most important woman in my existence than to spend another year dying emotionally.

I took my hand away and kissed her on the forehead. “I deserve better.”

Watching her straighten out her clothes, pick up the only picture there was of us and put it in her purse. She walked out my bedroom and out of my life more than likely. I waited until I heard the German horses back out the driveway and then I fell to the floor and cried as hard as any man as ever cried in his life. I’d spend my New Year writing and making new memories, trying to forget about the old ones.

Cry For the Son You’ll Never Have…

She’s not you…

Those three words attacked my essence, they cut at who I was as a woman.

I’m good enough to fuck!

Good enough to cry to and come home too! I can have his son that this bitch didn’t want to have but “I’m not her!”

They were all looking at me, no one smiling, no one laughing. Their looks were looks of pity, the pretty pregnant girl that should have known he would never stop loving her. The pretty pregnant girl with the flawless ring that meant nothing once she heard, “She’s not you.” He came towards me but the scream that came from the bottom of my soul stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t love me, maybe he never loved me but he loved what I was carrying. Me leaving wouldn’t hurt him, that would be his excuse to be with her. But he could never love her if she was the reason he never saw his sons face… I told him I loved him, kissed the engagement ring I thought meant forever and pushed the knife into my stomach.

If we couldn’t be a family then I wouldn’t be a mother.


She’s Not You…

She didn’t have a Twitter and she rarely posted anything on FB but her best friend was the biggest attention whore ever. She let the world know her entire life and usually I ignored everything she posted but tonight was different.

“Going to Sugarhill tonight to turnup with my girl! You chicks are bragging about costume jewelry and she’s a Dr.! The youngest professor at St. Thomas University!”

Six months ago I wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving my pregnant wife to go see the woman that said no to me. Six weeks ago I was down to only thinking about her when I slept. Six days ago I kissed my fiancé and didn’t compare their lips to each other for the first time. But six hours ago she called me and her voice was echoing in my mind, every memory, every argument, every touch. The scenes playing in my head like a movie. “I’m going to Starbucks to get some coffee, get some writing done. You need anything?” She pulled me to her and kissed me, said just be safe. It was the first lie I’d ever told her. I needed to see Alexis.

It was 3am and I knew the club was closed but habits didn’t change. There was a bbq truck in 3rd Ward that her and her friends ate at faithfully. My logic was simple, if she was there we’d talk. If she wasn’t, I’d stop and get some coffee and go home to the woman that was carrying my child.

Turning the corner off of Scott you’d have thought it was 10pm instead of 3am. Cars were every where, I forgot it was homecoming weekend. I pulled into the parking lot and there she was, leaning against a car trying not to waste bbq sauce. I knew every woman with her and they were all laughing and eating.

Walking up to her, jeans and a t-shirt, thin leather jacket I didn’t say anything. Neither did she. I was afraid because looking in her eyes I knew she was feeling what I was feeling.

“You look good Lex.”

“You still have that jacket huh?” She laughed, I wiped some sauce off her chin. All her friends watching, quiet, like they were in a theatre.

I asked her could we talk for a minute. She told me to go home and talk to my wife. I stepped into her space, her friends looked like they were all ready to jump on me, they knew our history, our story. She put her hand on my chest to push me back, she told me whatever I needed to say I could say in front of her girls. I looked each of them in the eye. She threw her food at me and tried to hit me, I caught her wrist and kissed her. Why are you here?! Why couldn’t you wait on me?! Go home to your bitch! ‘She’s not you!’ I yelled. ‘She’s not you.’ I said. She grabbed my shirt, I didn’t fight her. Her friends gasped, my fiancé was watching and holding her stomach. Fuck my life…