A Lover's Mentality Page 3

  There are so many questions that bottled in my mind; I was anxious to get back home to express those same thoughts. Walking to Brooke’s car, I pulled out my cell phone and texted Shame. I was so mad that I had to continuously re-text misspelled words.

  I swear I can’t stand u! I’m tired of u & yo bitches!!!! I already kno’ yo ass is going 2 try 2 play mothafuckin games. Fake ass nigga! I can’t stand yo simple ass and I’m tired of folks calling my phone about u and yo non-factor ass bitches Shame!

  Pressing send, I close my phone and get in the car. I was ready to eat; I blew off my steam. I sit back and chill in Brooke’s passenger seat as we ride down Gumbarrel Road.

  After eating a fabulous meal platter with rib tips, Brooke and I chatted, paid our bill, and were on our way. After Brooke drops me off, I walk to my building complex, climb the stairs of my Waterford apartment, unlock my door, then lock it behind me. I creep into my bedroom, adjusting my eyes to the darkness. Peeling off my clothes and throwing them onto the floor, I climb into my queen-size bed, curling up under my silk sheets, dozing off into a deep slumber, and making Shame a problem for tomorrow.

  5

  “What’s it gonna be? ’Cause I can’t pretend.”

  So what do I think about my relationship as of now? I don’t know. I mean, really, what is the outcome of us? Hell, come to think about it, Shame only calls me when he wants something. It’s either for money, pussy, or to use my car. I’m starting to notice that. It always seems to start off with a “Baby, what you doing?’ or an “I miss you.” Then he just gets to his point. I never ask him for anything, and I bet his ass don’t think about that.

  “I don’t understand why you constantly do so much for that nigga and he don’t do shit for you,” Andreyia says into the phone.

  “I wondered the same thing . I guess it’s out of love.” I sigh as I get up from the bed to grab my journal.

  “So did he even text you back after you sent him that text?”

  “No. The nigga didn’t even bother to call. I don’t know what to do about us, Dreyia”

  I don’t know why I’m confiding in my friends. For all they care, they believe that I just fall in love and get hooked on dick. That is what keep me satisfied and quiet, which is another “yeah, whatever bullshit.” But when people have time to think, they think about the simple things and nothing about the obvious. Hearing my line beep, I glanced at my phone and see that Shame’s calling.

  “Speaking of the devil.”

  Andreyia laughs and then says, “What?”

  “Shame is calling me. Let me see what this nigga has to say and I will call you back.”

  Clicking over, I gather my thoughts before I answer Shame.

  “Hello?” I say.

  “What is this text you sent me all about?” Shame asks.

  “Oh, you don’t know?”

  “Know what, Yemya? You da one who sent da text, so you tell me what is up.”

  “I’m just fed up, Shame. I’m fed up with you. I’m fed up with yo hating-ass baby mama who can’t move the fuck on with her damn life. I’m fed up with all this shit going around Chatt about you Shame. The shit gets old.”

  “Yemya, there you go again. Lettin’ folks get in yo head.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard that shit before … all your coochie promises and all that other shit is out the door.“

  Coochie promise?”

  “Coochie promises, Shame. Promises you make when you are up in some good pussy.”

  Laughing into the phone, I hear him say that I was a trip and that I need to stop playing and stressing over what someone else has said. When Shame and I first met, he seemed so confident and wasn’t too cocky and didn’t front while he was talking to me. I noticed that he could never seem to make eye contact; I knew something wasn’t right. It just sits in your gut that way. I guess he couldn’t stand the fact that I will look into his soul and read his actions. But some shit a nigga can’t help though when they are guilty. I’ve come to learn that it’s all in the way they act. I even read somewhere that if a nigga talks to you but his eyes is elsewhere then that nigga is too timid, weak, or devious. With that being said, you can see the truth through them.

  “Girl, don’t nobody be makin’ no coochie promises …”

  “After the phone call I received yesterday, the trick made it seem like you were making coochie promises. Now what’s up with that?” I ask. “You fucking these females and telling them bullshit? Is the pussy that—”

  “What phone call?” Shame asks, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Baby, I don’t have nothin’ to do with no phone call, and I’m not fuckin no bitch either. Those hoes just jealous of us.”

  “Jealous of what? Hell, they fucking you too, so we sharing the dick. Tell your hoes to stop calling me!”

  “Look, Mya, I don’t know shit about no phone call, girl!”

  “Of course you don’t, Shame. Why would you have another female call me discussing what’s going on between the two of you? Look, I know that I said that I won’t ever be too far away, but after ole girl called my phone, I don’t know where I’m going to be. I just about at my wits with these lil girls. I know that I even said that I won’t hesitate at all, but I’m not feeling the bullshit.” I sigh into the phone. I don’t know if breaking up will be hardest thing for me to ever do. I don’t know if calling it a “break” is what I want. After all, the feeling isn’t just there like it used to be. The love is not even a feeling anymore … it’s more of a thought. At least right now, that’s how I feel.

  “What you tryin’ to say, Yemya?” Shame asks.

  “All I’m trying to say is …” I think about what I want to say. What I feel like I need Shame hear. As much as my heart wants to give up and leave well enough alone, my mind says differently. “I just need some time to get my mind right, Shame. To think this through. I’m not saying that it’s over or I’m done with you. I’m just saying I need some time …”

  April 23, 2013

  I never think I’ll come to the end of this shit for real. How can one person not give a damn about anything? And Shame of all people… fuck him right now. I really don’t have shit to say about us at this point. He thought he was slick and had his tricks up his sleeve. But when you are hurt by someone, you can’t help but to hate them. They lose that trust, that respect, that love. Jordon told me about the Angel chick e-mailing her. Shame was planning to move back to Georgia to be with her. She said they’ve been discussing it for a while now and he even mentioned me. He told her that he loved me and that I was a good woman, but his mind and heart was with her. The crazy part about it is that I have yet to tell him that I was five weeks pregnant with his baby. For that matter, no one will know. Between us, there is just so much shit Shame doesn’t “think” I know about. Shit like him betting K.P. that he was going to fuck me. And they betted three months top! Let’s not forget the stories about him having unprotected sex with different females and licking their coochies! And about these chicks named Angel and Jennifer. I done heard the most. That’s why I just can’t do it. I can’t go through the drama and have a baby attached to me along with it. I have to do what best for the baby and me, and that’s aborting it.

  Yemya

  6

  “Life’s truest obstacle is, love. Everybody have to go through it.”

  ∼Sade Collins

  “When my girl came through with the news, all I did was think about me and you like damn. What a chick gotta do to get with a real nigga like mannnn.”

  I’m singing along to the best female rapper alive, Trina, and her song, “Here We Go Again.” I’m cleaning my apartment, bumping one of my favorite artists. In reality, I was trying to keep my mind focused on other things. I don’t want to think about my options on keeping the baby. For that matter, I’ve made up my mind. My halfsister, Kenya, helped me come up with the money and we will be heading to Atlanta tomorrow morning. Honestly, I feel guilty about the whole situation, but I thought things through. I even prayed a
bout it too. But there comes a time when you just have to learn to think about you. With that being said, I am thinking about me.

  April 24, 2013

  I cried and I cried and I cried. I am torn between the questionable truths on love. Questionable on Shame and his plans with this chick named Angel. I don’t know. And when you are really feeling someone, they can make you feel so stupid, and at times I still do feel that way. I was going to call it quits. I was going to let him go. I was going to …

  After I finish loading the dishes into my dishwasher, I wipe off my gray granite countertops then place the rag over the faucet. Walking into my living room, I breathe in the fresh scent of Pine-Sol. There is always something about a fresh-smelling house. Thirty minutes after I flopped on the couch and was watching BAPS on HBO, my doorbell rang. I place the remote on the nearby coffee table and walk toward the door.

  “Who is it?” I say as I look into the peephole.

  “It’s me, Kenya!”

  I open the door and let her in. Kenya is wearing a yellow blouse, a pair of shorts, and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail.

  “What’s up, chick?” I say, closing the door behind her then locking it.

  “Somebody has been doing some spring cleaning,” Kenya states as she walks to my living room and sits down on the nearby cream leather sofa.

  “Girl,” I say, sitting across from her. “I’ve just been enjoying these off days and decided to clean up my place. What’s been up with you?” I ask, sitting back comfortably on the loveseat.

  “Girl, nothing. Finally being able to enjoy my off days. I’m surprised you ain’t booed up with Shame.”

  “I’m not thinking about Shame, neither do I have much to say to him or about him—”

  “That’s what you always say Mya…’t” Kenya bluntly says..

  “Like for real, Kenya, I’m so fed up with so much of the bullshit. I got bullshit coming from my ears.” I tug on both of my ears.

  “Girl, what happened this time? Did you tell him about the baby?” she asks.

  After talking to Kenya and telling her my situation, it upset her to know that my relationship with Shame was falling apart. Shame had grown to become like a brother to her. My situation with him only caused confusions and regretting my love for him. I was all cried out. I needed that one person who was always there for me. I needed that ear to listen to how I felt. So much can be expressed through writing, but who do you turn to when writing isn’t enough. I needed to call my best friend Andreyia. The phone call didn’t make my situation any better. She even heard that Shame was sleeping with Alicia. My decision was final. I was going to leave Shame. After getting off the phone with Andreyia, we made plans for Brooke and her to come to my house to help me cope with my breakup. The girls arrived at my place in only minutes apart to help me gather up Shame’s things that has piled up at my house over the months. I have decided toput them outside the door for him to come get them. I needed their support and my girls came through for me. Although the pain that I felt was weighing at my heart over lost love, my spirit was up lifted with pure love from my girls. While Andreyia and the rest of the girls were in the kitchen popping pop corn and making pink panties drinks for our ladies night; Kenya and I were preparing for my trip to Atlanta for my appointment with the abortion clinic.

  My plan was to keep it a secret without letting anyone know of the situation. Not even Andreyia, who is my best friend. I knew that she would try to talk me out of it. She wouldn’t understand my decision.

  “So when were you going to tell her?”

  Looking at Kenya as she sat across my bed, I sigh and sit down right beside her. “I’m not going to tell no one, not Andreyia, not my mom … not even Shame. I don’t want to even go through the motions of upsetting the world around me. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I should have told you.”

  “Look, Yemya, if anything, I respect your decision because you are a grown woman. You’re my sister, I’m not here to judge you or talk bad to you about your choices. That is God’s place to do that. I am here to support you,” Kenya says as she grabs my hand.

  “Y’all need to come on, we are about to start Waiting to Exhale. The popcorn is ready, the wine is chilled, and I’m ready to relax dammit,” Andreyia jokingly says as she walks into my bedroom. Looking at Kenya and me, she asks, “What’s up with y’all?”

  “Girl, nothing, just sitting here catching a break,” Kenya says before I have a chance to respond.

  Looking at me to see any sign of truth, Andreyia then walks out the room stating that she and Brooke were ready to watch the movie.

  The four us were engrossed in Waiting to Exhale, Angela Bassett was on the verge of setting her ex-husband’s car on fire until a sudden knock on the door causes us to jump.

  “Yemya!” Shame roars.

  Kenya, Andreyia, and Brooke get up and walk over to the door.

  “She don’t want shit to do with you, Shame!” Andreyia says through the door. “Just get your shit and go. She good!”

  “Andreyia! You supposed to be my girl!” Shame says. “You the one who hooked us up! How the fuck you gone let some bullshit come between me and Yemya?”

  I am still sitting on the couch, frozen in place, unable to move. Hearing Shame pleading for me to let him in makes my heart so weak. I’m uncertain if I should run to the door and open it. I imagined myself holding him, kissing him, praying and hoping that this was all a dream.

  Kenya opens the door without taking the latch off the hook to speak to Shame. But my mind was made up. It was made up on him, on us, and the baby. I have to be woman enough to let Shame know that.

  “Look, Shame, just give her time. Why don’t you just go back to Ta-Ta spot and chill out. Get your mind right.”

  I get up from the couch and walk to the door.

  “I got this, y’all,” I say as I unlatch the door.

  “Boo … ?” Brooke says as she stands out of the way to give me space to open the door. Stepping outside, I close the door behind me and cross my arms in front of my chest.

  “What’s this, Yemya?” Shame asks, looking at the garbage bags filled with his things sitting in front of my door.

  “You know what it is, Shame. I just can’t—”

  “You fuckin’ somebody else?” Shame accuses.

  “What? Shame, who do you think I am? You the one who is doing all the fucking!” I say as I roll my eyes.

  “What’s up wit my shit sittin’ outside yo house, Mya? You breakin’ up with me?”

  Not being able to answer his question, I look down at the bags that we have placed outside my door. How can I look at him and say that it was over? How can breaking up be so easy when you love someone so much? After dealing with the phone calls, crazy ass messages and Shame’s disappearing acts, I have came to the conclusion that the relationship with him is something that I didn’t want.

  “That’s crazy,” Shame says, noticing my hesitance to answering his question. “I just can’t believe that you got sucked into this bullshit, Mya. When half of it is lies.”

  “Half of it is lies? Do you know how that makes you sound? Hell, you may as well say all if—”

  “Are you through wit me, Mya? You through wit us?” Shame asks, throwing his hands up in the air.

  As much as I want to say yes, I can’t. I can’t let other females and the bullshit win this relationship over. Standing with only a foot of space between us, I look up at Shame’s five-foot-nine frame standing over me. “Nah, Shame, I’m not done with us. But I need my space, baby. I need to put this relationship into perspective.” I look into his pleading eyes.

  “Aight. I do tell you the truth, Yemya. I just want you to be down for me just as much as I am down for you,” Shame says as he grabs his bags. He then kisses my cheek and walks off without looking back.

  Standing there with my arms crossed across my chest, I watch Shame leave with his bags in his hands. I wonder if I should call after him. I think about running to him, asking him to forget
what just happen and for us to move on. But I don’t. I don’t have the will to move my feet, the voice to even speak up as a woman. I just look at him, my first love as he leaves me standing here looking stupid. I head back inside my apartment and close the door behind me. I stand with my back against the door, exhaling the breath that I was holding, not realizing that me not calling after him will be the downfall of our relationship.

  7

  “If you don’t know how to manage pain by dissolving it or letting go, it infects the future.”

  As I lie in bed listening to music, I start to reminisce on how Shame and I met through Andreyia, my best friend. Somehow she always had a think for hooking me up with guys who wasn’t the appropriate height for her dating expectations. From then on, Shame and my relationship transpired... Thinking about how things were then to now, I am in disbelief about being in this position that I am in with having this baby. I’ve always believed that you have to have respect and morals for yourself. And me, I have those same values. Selfish as it sounds, I have a good head on my shoulders, and I believe that Shame could be a good father. I mean, I have noticed his love for kids. He has shared so many of his dreams with me about wanting to better his life and be that father he needs to be for his son by getting his GED, I have faith in everything that he wants to do, but last night it seemed as if everything in my world collapsed in relation to Shame. My dreams of having a future that every womnan desires, every ounce of love, every hour, minute, second spent revolving around Shame were beginning to fade. I so much wanted to feel him and make love to him. I wanted everything to be okay between us. Tears trickle down my face while looking at our picture.