Pookie and I celebrated our 4th anniversary about a week ago and things are pretty good. Actually that wasn't the case a few weeks ago. We had one of our knock down drag out arguments. Words were said, feelings were hurt, doors were slammed. Like I've been so many times in the past, I was done and I wanted out.
Like always, he managed to calm me down and talk to me and got me to talk back to him. He admitted that he's been a huge asshole and that he's taken out a lot of his frustration on me. I told him that I'd heard it all before. He admitted that although he doesn't always show it, he knows that I've always held him down and been there for him. I'd never heard him admit to that one before, but I remained skeptical. He told me that he was tired of the fighting and the arguing. He told me what he needed from me. He said that he knows he'd said it all before, but he really wants us to be better to one another. If for no one else, for Pumpkin.
That night, I went into his bedroom. I was skeptical. I went because, candidly, sometimes sex manages to be a good temporary bandage for the issues we both bring to the party. Afterwards he said to me that he doesn't want me to be with other men and he won't be with any other women. I agreed.
I didn't think about it until the next day, but I didn't know (and I still don't know) what it meant. Are we "a couple"? Can we still date and flirt with others? Are we still "single"? I want to ask questions, but I'm kind of scared to do so. I don't know if I want answers. Truthfully, there is also a small part of me that kind of doesn't want to settle just yet. I kind of wonder if he saw me pulling away physically and wanted to pull me back in. I don't know. But I do know that I love him and I love my son. I love my family. Period.
Yes, I've got homegirls in my ear telling me that I should leave and not look back. I'm not delusional. Far from it. Honestly, I think I'm one of the most realistic women I know. No one knows Pookie better than me. I've seen him at his best and at his worst. I've seen him grow. I'm actually proud of him. But I remain ready to haul ass if I need to.
Another anniversary just passed for me. July 30th was the one year anniversary of the death of my cousin, Jarronn. His widow posted something on her blog here. I didn't expect that day to be so hard for me. I kept reliving in my mind how I learned he died and our last phone conversation. I only met his widow once before he died and unfortunately I couldn't make it up to his wedding (who would have guessed that less than 3 months later he'd be gone?) Actually, I may have had a premonition. Whenever I spoke about Jarronn's wedding, I kept having a strange verbal slip and saying "Jarronn's funeral". I'd said it about 4 times when speaking to my mom about the possibility of us driving up for his wedding. I've got a gift for communicating with the dead, so maybe I knew something subconsciously after all.
Either way, when I read her blog, it reminded me of how much I loved Pookie all over again. She's so brave and strong, I don't know what I'd do if I learned that Pookie wasn't coming home. I get teared up when I think about what would undeniably be the worst day of my life. I know that my cousin would appreciate knowing that his death has served to remind me to love the one I'm with.
On our anniversary, I'd suddenly had a huge craving for cupcakes from the bakery that Daisy hipped me to. I hit my neighbor Barbie and told her that she was selected to escort me on my cupcake run. I hauled ass down Peachtree and nearly killed us a few times, but we managed to make it before they closed.
As we stood in line, I quickly knew what I wanted. Barbie took a moment to decide. That's when I looked up and saw her. Holy. Fucking. Shit. It was Pookie's ex-wife. What the fuck? What the hell are we doing here? She walked into the store next to us. I prayed she didn't see me and prayed we didn't run into her on the way back out. We got into the car and noticed that she'd parked next to the car. Great. I was about to haul ass, but before I'd seen her, my plan was to sit in the car and scarf my incredible pastry. I told Barbie that I wanted to stay and eat, despite the awkward situation and Barbie told me to stay there and eat my damned cupcake. The funny thing is that when I'm nervous and upset, I don't eat. I'm known for going days on end not eating when things are really bad. So here I sit, spending money on a cupcake and not even wanting to lick the delectable buttercream frosting off of it.
We sat in the car and talked as Barbie finished her cupcake and I stared blankly at mine. That cinnamon swirly piece of heaven may as well have been a plank of wood, that's how little I wanted it. Crap. Eventually she came over to her car. I held my breath. "Hey Malika!" she shouted. What the hell does she want from me, was all I could think. "Hi" I weakly said back. "I see you like the cupcakes here too" she said. "Yeah, they're good," I said through clenched teeth. She made some other small talk before walking around to her car. "Hi, Malika's friend" she said to Barbie. "I see you're enjoying your cupcake. Yeah, Malika and I are old acquaintances" she said before getting into her car.
It wasn't until she was gone that I'd realized that it was me and Pookies anniversary. What the hell are the odds of running into his EX-WIFE on our anniversary? The more I thought about it, the more aggravated I got. What the hell did she speak for? We're not friends. We aren't homies. We're not fucking sorority sisters. Who gives a damn about my cupcake? Why bother to speak to my friend and tell her we're "old acquaintances"? For the record, I'd told Barbie who she was before she'd even opened her trap to us. I'm not one of those fake broads with my nose in the air that acts like my shit don't stink. I had a kid by her husband. I did it, I apologized for it, I paid for it. But I'm not going to spend the rest of my damned life with a red A on my chest because of it.
The more I thought about it, the more aggravated I got. Why the fuck did she speak? She doesn't like me, with good reason. And I don't like her, for what I believe are also good reasons. So there we sit. We are two women that clearly don't like one another. Why bother with the fake niceness? If Barbie hadn't been with me, I probably would have said as nicely as I could muster that she and I don't like one another, so there's no reason to stop and speak like we grew up in the same fucking Girl Scout troop. But for now, our encounter remains what it was...
While onto the subject of other women's husbands, I thought I'd touch on the whole Fantasia thing too. Being that I've been upfront about having been with a married man, I couldn't help but to touch on her issue. It's so easy to throw stones. But until you've been wooed by a married man, you'll never know. Married men don't tell a woman "I love my wife and I just want to fuck you." No, they tell you how unhappy they are, and how they want a divorce, but they're waiting on *insert blank bullshit excuse here* and the other woman can't help but to love it. Often, men don't tell the other woman that they're married until it's too late and she's in love with him.
So imagine Fantasia, thinking that she's standing by her man, thinking that she'd prove the world wrong. I'm sure dude really gassed her up to think that she's better than his current wife. I'm sure he told her he loved her and dicked her down like she's never been dicked down before. It's hard enough to love a married man, but try loving him with every urban blog on the planet tracking your every move like you're Bennifer all over again. And then to have the other woman sue you for a few million dollars, when the only thing you're guilty of is falling in love with a man that pursued you first?
She tried to kill herself and she's got a kid. I know she didn't want to leave her child. Sometimes you just do what sometimes comes impulsively and don't think about things in the long haul. I am by no means a Fantasia fan. But I'm with her in spirit.
So anyway, those kind of encompass my thoughts for the last few weeks. Those and the banging ass party that Dwight threw. So I'm off to work now. Holla!!