Oh Lord, Help Me Keep My Panties on - By Lynda Burton Page 0,76
can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. Stop! Ahhh . . . Don’t say another word,” she yelled. “Let me catch my breath.” A few minutes later, she asked me to repeat the story again and we laughed all over again.
Even though the situation was frightening and scary to be in, I was thankful that she took her frustrations out on Hassan instead of me. Not too many times women go straight to the source, which is usually the man or her man. He knows that he has a girlfriend. He knows he’s wrong and most time he knows he wouldn’t be in that situation if he hadn’t lied and fucked around! Oh well, I guess it was better to find out this way than to be embarrassed in front of my family and friends. I began thinking about my life and started to cry. I’d meet a guy, date a few months, and he’d either go back to his ex-girlfriend (for the sake of the kids) or I’d find out that he’s sneaking around with another woman. What the fuck!
Men talk about finding a good woman. Well, where in the hell are they looking? I’m right here! I thought to myself. Was I wrong to want a relationship? And why was I the only one without someone to love? It was as if every relationship soured before it got started, and I didn’t know why, I thought to myself. None of my friends knew how I truly felt and no one was the wiser. I guess because I showed confidence and displayed a “Don’t-give-a-shit attitude,” they all thought I was strong and invincible. But on the inside I was soft and pink all over. Yes under that tough exterior I was miserable, lonely, and felt empty and incomplete inside. It became difficult for me to attend functions with my friends and family and I became withdrawn. I would make excuses and started taking more and more solo vacations just so I wouldn’t be around my friends who were now all coupled off. I hated my life, and I hated the fact that I was alone. Most of all, I hated that no one wanted to love me back.
One cold afternoon in January while I was in my mind clearing therapy mode (painting my dining room) Nia called and said that she had a surprise for me. “Nia, I’m up on a ladder in the dining room, with a paint brush in my hand, can’t it wait?” I asked. “No,” she replied. “I’ll be over soon.” “Well, I’m just finishing up the final touches to the room and I’m not going to stop and clean up until I’m done so, take me as I am,” I responded back, and then hung up the phone. About fifteen minutes later, as I was climbing down the ladder. Phew I’m finally finished. I said to myself. All of a sudden I heard the roar of a motorcycle pull up in front of my house and stop, and then I heard Nia’s familiar voice. Then the door bell rang. I closed the top of the paint can and placed the paint brush on the paint tray and walked slowly to the front door. I peeked through the curtains to see Nia and a guy with a motorcycle helmet in his hands “Hey, girl, open up, you can stop your self inflicted therapy session for 5 minutes. I want you to meet someone,” She yelled. I opened the door, and she sashayed through the porch and into the living room followed by the guy with the motorcycle helmet. “Haley, this is my friend that I grew up with. This is Max. Max, this is Haley. As you can see, he has a motorcycle, in fact he has two. Nia said braggingly. I told him about you and your desire to buy your own motorcycle and decided to pay you a quick visit while we were out riding around. I know you don’t know a lot about them so maybe; Max can help you out a little and give you some pointers. When you’re ready to shop for your motorcycle silly, uh what do you say? Nia said all of that without taking a breath. Then she looked at me with a smile then broke out into laughter. I wiped my hands on my shorts, extended my hand to Max and then invited them in as we all laughed at Nia’s silliness.
I was a mess. I had on