So Long I Had To Post It In Parts, Conclusion

PART THREE

PART TWO

PART ONE

I knew he liked me. I knew it. However, I could not stand his sneaky looking ass from Day 1. My mama always told me never to trust a man that’s “too pretty”. And he was fine as sh*t. And of course he knew it. I mean everyone told him probably at least twice a day how “fine” he was. Being a Kappa was just icing on the cake, the self-professed “Pretty Boy”. Sure he talked about himself in third person sometimes but overall he was a cool individual. Always up for a good time, protective of us girls, a good listener but still…

He rubbed me the wrong way.

I guess I was the only one who could see past the oily smile and the Leo and the Taurus clashed. We argued all the time. I would crack vicious jokes about him being a “dirty Mexican” **Sorry my Latino/a brothers and sisters** because he took an abnormal offense to looking like a Latino. I mean he lived in a Latino neighborhood, his sisters and mother looks Latina, but he would always get really upset if someone asked if he was bi-racial *mixed with Hispanic* blood. Of course we were the comedic duo for everyone and they loved to piss me off with the “yall like each other” line.

But it was true. He did like me. The feelings just were not mutual. I think part of the reason he liked me was the whole “challenge” factor. I did not fawn over him like everyone and I treated him like the annoying ass gnat that he is. I guess some men are turned on by rejection.

The killing part is that he had a girlfriend! Of course she was one of the Deltas who hated my guts and took it as a personal campaign to make my life semi-hell. Never mind that I was woman enough to come to her and tell her that I wanted no parts of “her man”, she still went hard with the “Tenacious is a Home Wrecker” brigade. I guess the fact that he was f*cking anything that moved on campus including some of her sorors escaped her. Funny the sorors that was sleeping with him made sure to hop on the brigade. Three cheers for sisterhood.
As much as I avoided him the more he pursued me. I hate him. He almost f*cked up my relationship. Killing part, my boyfriend joined the fraternity and that is his pledge father *done to alleviate the tension among them*. You know you can’t the bros slapping each other down over a female. Especially a female that’s me.
The whole incident was partly my fault. I will admit that *now.

My boyfriend was already “on line” to be a Kappa and that was a big blow to our relationship. Not only did our interaction dwindle to “nil” but also he was pressured to “break up” with me as soon as his line began. He didn’t of course and our relationship was a secret. We led everyone to believe that we had “broken” up. Of course he was stressed, half-delirious from lack of food and sleep, and not to mention he was pretty banged up from the night time activities. They were extra hard on him because he was a “Sweet’s Boyfriend”, he was quiet, thus “wimpy”, so he was “toughen” up. I’m not trying to get into many details but you know what I’m talking about.

Not to mention the mind games. Oh they had him really thinking all types of foolishness and since it would be days until he could sneak away and talk most of the time when we got on the phone it turned into a mini argument. He tried his best not to believe any of the foolishness but when folks think they know you and say sh*t in a way that appears as if you said it, then folks are liable to believe anything. I tried not to snap at him but sometimes I couldn’t help it. I was stressed, I was tired, and I didn’t sleep at night because I couldn’t help but think of the bad sh*t they were doing to him.

I had already begun to distance myself away from the whole organization as it was. I mean I could not hang out with people who later on would be beating the sh*t out of my boyfriend. I was literally sick looking at some of them, walking around with this stupid little smirk on their face and I felt as if I was on pins and needles because if I said some sh*t to piss one of them off, my boyfriend would probably end up suffering more at night. Now my three girls who I am still cool with and some of the guys understood and kinda left me alone. I got back into my schoolbooks and threw myself into other activities to keep active. I didn’t take one sip of alcohol until that night.

The night before my boyfriend and I had a BIG blow up. Funny I don’t remember what it was but a b*tch was heated that night. Here I am being a supportive girlfriend during a period of time that most girls couldn’t fathom and here he was b*tching about something. Most guys when the begin to pledge end up losing their girlfriend and friends because they don’t understand the “rules” of pledging but I knew the deal and he was acting as if I didn’t “feel” him. So when I found out one of the bros was having a “get together” and this was a “mandatory” attendance which meant my black ass better come out the dungeons and attend.

I went to the party anyway and got tore the f*ck up. I think that was a Top 5 of “Tenacious Getting So f*cked Up She Should Have Alcohol Poisoning” moments. And you guessed it.

An opportunity for KAPPA to make the moves.

Which he did. While I was drowning my anger with Bacardi Superior double shots, here come those famous shoulders that girls used to cry on. I’m venting to him, a surprise because I can’t stand more than two seconds in his company, I’m miserable because of the boyfriend. I am miserable because I’m forced to be at the party. He’s being the “good friend” and slowly feeding me more alcohol. Like an idiot I just kept drinking them. He started rubbing my shoulders and since I had a strict “Don’t f*cking touch m” rule with his ass, I guess since I didn’t, he made his move. I did nothing to stop it. I can admit that now. I had a hazy awareness of what he was doing but the alcohol *and hormones* lowered my inhibition. My wall that I usually have up was brought down by the Bacardi.

We f*cked. Gave up the goodies while the party was going on downstairs. Where were my so-called friends? Oh they were downstairs celebrating. I guess my moping around was not about to stop their fun. They assumed I ducked out and went home *so they claim* I let the liquor and hormones get the best of me. I woke up, hair all over my head, and naked. Saw his sleeping form and literally screamed. Woke his ass the f*ck up. I couldn’t believe it. This muthaf*cker got the muthaf*cking drawls. To say I was pissed is an understatement. I f*cking snapped. Not only that, I did not see one condom wrapper. I just know that nigga did not just slide up me raw. Yes the f*ck he did. A pregnancy test was not a factor, I was on the shot, but an STD and HIV Testing was mandatory. Who knows what was crawling on his penis.

So I’m yelling like a wild woman and I’m putting the dukes up because we are about to box. So of course everyone runs in the room, hearing all the commotion and tried to break us up, because I was going to kill this nigga. I had where I was going to hide the body and everything.

I had to will myself not to call the police and claim rape. I was disgusted with myself. And scared.

This fool had the nerve to tell me to “go home and calm down. He’ll call me later”. Call me later for what? So I can find out where you are and run you down in a car? He was loving it. Not only did he hit the impossible Tenacious, everyone knows he did. Of course before I left, I slapped that dumb ass smirk off his f*cking face. I’m at the clinic with my roommate, crying and sh*t. She’s rubbing my back and telling me to not think the worst. This trifling bastard. I can’t believe it. I f*cked this nigga.

Then came the debate: Should I or Shouldn’t I tell my boyfriend?

If it was me from last year then hell naw I was not saying sh*t. If it ever got back to him I would have lied. Claim it was a nigga lying on his d*ck and of course go into “fight” mode for spreading “vicious lies” about me. It would not even really be a debate. I would have just been mad that we f*cked without a condom. I would have been pissed that he tricked me out the panties but that just would have furthered my hatred for him.

However, this was the new me. I’m in love and OMG I FUCKED UP me. I know how men are when it comes to cheating. Men will f*ck anything moving but let their girl slide out and get her a piece. A man will act as if their world is over. Face just fall the f*ck off. Like someone ripped their heart out their body and threw it against the wall. He was already stressed from being online and I did not want to be the bearer of bad news but at the same time, I didn’t want him to find out the hard way. Them niggas would’ve put all my sh*t on blast at night in order to “break” him. Or they would have exaggerated the story and made it more than it was to hurt him. I knew many of them did not like me any way for various reasons and were anxiously licking their chops. I mean my boyfriend can’t be a faithful Kappa now can he? Especially when Kappas pride themselves on getting “hoes”. And who’s better to turn against me but my boyfriend? They lived for drama like that.
So I went to the dean of their line, a close brother of mine, and we talked for about five hours. I ended up crying. I made him promise not to let them say anything *by now of course everyone knew and was waiting for the fireworks. This is why I fell out with most of them and some of my court because they wanted me to get hurt* and let me do it.

So I did. We finally met up a few days before he crossed and I told him. Everything. I cried. He cried. He left.

That sh*t hurted more than I thought. I went to his Probate Show and he looked at me as if he did not know me. Like I was slime. He gave me the dirtiest look ever. Would not talk to me. Would not look in my direction. I guess he told his new line brothers because if looks could kill, I would be dead. I think they already hated me internally due to my name always being brought up at their “nightly” sessions which internalized to “Tenacious name=Ass Whooping Time” because my name meant “trouble”.

I was sick. I would not eat, I could not sleep. The only thing that kept me going was my girls and the three girls from my court whom I remained close with. My grades were the best they had ever been as I studied more to keep my mind occupied. I lost 10 lbs., not well on my small frame. Of course, now that I was officially “single” as one of his brothers made sure to tell people my “trifling ass was single” dudes did come out the woodwork, making it worse. He will be walking around on campus and here I am with three dudes grinning all up in my face, including KAPPA who got into his head that we should “be” together. He wanted me for himself. Nigga still want me to himself. He and my boyfriend are not close to this day.

After a turbulent summer of making up and breaking up, we enter Junior Year. School was back in session and he is active on campus and in his fraternity. KAPPA graduated but that did not stop his ass from calling me or trying to get with me on the low. Girls were all over my boyfriend, sparking paranoia in me, for I was convinced he was going to try to get “back” at me. Therefore, I was instantly wary of females who got too close thus; I earned the reputation as a “Bitch”. The middle of the year I had calmed down but it would spark up from time to time, leading to fights and silent treatments. We were both still healing but every time something goes good, the subject was brought back up again. Up course his line brothers thought he was dumb as hell for getting back with me and made a point of mentioning it everyday. Everyone was against me, it seems. Never mind that it was one slip up and I did not stray at all that year. Hell I wouldn’t even dance on a nigga due to the “Goon Squad” at my neck reporting every little thing I did.

By the end of junior year however, the sun broke through the clouds.

Senior went flawlessly. No fights, no arguments, nothing. It is as if we fell back in love all over again. It was as if we both were trying to do better. Become the person each other wanted us to be. Pro/Cons of the relationship and our behavior. He was accepted to Grad School in DC and asked about the future of our relationship. He knows I don’t do long distant relationships but did I really want to throw 3 years away? We went back and forth on the issue. I did not want to leave home. Chicago is in my blood. It is my comfort zone. However, DC would be a new experience. Just us. No nosy friends. No hating frat brothers. No spies. Nothing. Just us. We will have to depend on one another. That means the big step of “officially” living together. Splitting everything down the middle.

I weighed on this issue for three months. Graduation Day I told him I would move to DC.

And here I am.

Of course DC affords me some freedom and some of dormant traits *flirting* sparked back up. Men gravitate toward me. Why…I have no idea. I am just me. Take me or Leave me.

I have met more women like my best friends and I. That “Take No Prisoners” approach. That “Keeping It Real” factor. The “Don’t Bullsh*t Me Nigga” attitude. More realistic. The realization that the p*ssy is not going to keep a man from straying nor get you into a relationship. Just like a man, we are willing to say whatever to get in your pants. Damn a relationship, we can be f*ck friends. No you will accept my terms of agreement. Don’t come at me wrong nigga because I will dice you up with my words. Dude, I am just like you only with breasts and a menstrual cycle. Baby boy, the d*ck will never get me whipped. Men come along every ten minutes, play with me if you want. Leave the games for kids, be real with me and I will be real with you. Nigga don’t “baby-ify* the sh*t, spit it out! I’m a Big Girl I can take it.

Don’t think because I’m young you can control me. I don’t fall for the okie-doke. Trust you’ll catch feelings before I do. Don’t think because I’m young, I don’t know the deal. Sure I don’t have the men but I have the experience. I can see a situation forming and know how to handle it.

I can be a “Man Eater” but I don’t want to. I don’t want you to fall in love with me. But I know how to do it. I know what to say, just like you, to get what I want. Maybe you can sniff it out, maybe you can’t. But I know.

Wow.

I just revealed more than I ever have to people.

Writing is really a form of therapy.

Thank you for reading.