The guy who wasn’t selling drugs, a wanna-be-pimp. I married the guy who had goals in life, right? He came from a nice family. He was a single, handsome Black man with an above average dick and a killer smile that would make a nun drop her panties. He was going places… or so I thought.
“Turns out, he wasn’t a safe bet, either. He grew bored of me and traded me in for a different model. A younger version of myself… fresh outta high school. It wasn’t because he was Black. It was because he was a soulless empty vessel.”
Yasmine hurt for her friend all over again for the pain was still evident in her tone. The destruction of Goldie’s marriage had been so profound and upsetting, it had taken her completely off-guard. Her headstrong, resilient friend had been down for the count not weeks, but eight, long, agonizing months. The experience had wiped her out. One day they were happy, the next day, he came home, packed his shit and was gone.
“I’m not bringing Kenneth up for any reason though. Fuck him and his silly ass girlfriend. I am bringing him up to also say: Look, there’s another lesson to be had here. It’s called life goes on.”
“You didn’t deserve what happened. Watching you emotionally beat up broke my heart, too.”
“I know it did. So please, honey, learn from me. The safe bet isn’t always the best bet. We only live once. I tried that safe shit. It didn’t work. I’m not saying go find you a serial killer to nestle up with, but expand your horizons. You have a habit of being overly-cautious and I get it; you feel protective of the strides you’ve made. But maybe this is a sign to not question everything, Yasmine? A suggestion to not examine shit so hard…” Yasmine had never thought about it that way. Perhaps Goldie was on to something. “You said this man is everything you should run from, but let me tell you something: as long as he isn’t beating your ass, doing something that could cause you to lose your job, or running around on you, why not just go for it? Have the damn experience.”
“That’s just it… I am having the experience. It’s happening, and I feel… I feel like I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. He’s addictive.”
“Then there’s no issue here.”
“But you don’t even know the details.”
“I don’t have to know the details. I know you.” Goldie stood to her feet, placed her cigarette down, and reached for Yasmine’s hand to squeeze it. Then, she looked deep into her eyes. “You have a good head on your shoulders. Trust yourself. If things get too strange, too scary… you’ll leave. You are one of the few friends in our circle who I can say without a shadow of a doubt that when you see danger afoot, you bounce. But sometimes, playing things too safe makes us miss out on something incredible. Kind of like racing out of the rain into the house, never to see the rainbow moments later because there’s so much fear of getting wet, and never looking up into the sky. I am not saying the hell with the rules of life and common sense, but just trust your gut, Yasmine. Trust the process. I am a firm believer in everything happening for a reason. You know that.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“All I can say, sis, is that I have not seen you smile this much in a long time. So, he may be bad for your status quo and sensibilities, but maybe he’s real damn good for your soul…”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Time to Cum Clean
I have too many fucking personalities,
and I still can’t find myself…
Some of us want to stay lost. I am one of those people. I like it this way. I like me just the way I am, fucked up, flawed and all. I love being a fucked-up individual. I enjoy every part of my dark and twisted nature. Besides, I make people happy. I went to law school and passed the bar the first fucking time – not just for me, but so my family could brag and I could get to work as soon as possible. The money wouldn’t be nearly as great if I didn’t have shit to show for it. I need to make problems go away. It’s my nature.