So Long I Had To Split It In Parts, Part II

**Now Blogger Won't Let Me Post Pictures**

PART ONE

I bummed around all summer before college, no relationships, just me playing the field. Of course my girl TWIN was single so of course we would tag team and double date *when I still did double dates* I didn’t let any feelings get involved as I was going to U of I in August but I had a fling here and there nothing major. I broke quite a few hearts on the block, hence my nickname “The Heartbreaker”. I was kicking it with this one cat until he f*cked the resident Bust Down. I guess I was not giving up the booty quick enough for him. After that, I was not trying to deal with any of the people on my block on a physical level. Hell any level. Most were heavily in the drug game and I don’t do drug dealers. I knew a few girls who were seriously injured, even killed, due to their boyfriend’s illegal activities and I wasn’t trying to get shot up by some nigga on the block because of some drug sh*t. Well it is not as if I would have gotten hit or anything since the dudes in my neighborhood are notoriously bad shooters. Will shoot up everything but the target and the target is right in from of him. However, that squirrel 3 blocks away? Dead as a muthaf*cking doornail. Therefore, I limited my contact with them, letting the resident Chicken Head and Bust Downs claim Ray Ray and Dyshawn. Many had crazy Baby Mamas anyway and hell, a few was rumored to have STDs so to say I was seen as “stuck up” to those types of guys were an understatement. However, most took a shine to me, I guess being “educated’ was a turn-on for many because I wasn’t some chicken head broad that could be bought off with the promise of fresh Jordans and Baby Phat outfits.

College is when those “mannish” ways exploded. Enter “Jaded Tenacious”. Having been around enough men to form a bias view of guys, I was like “F*ck a double standard, if men can do it so can I”. I had open views about sex. I did not see my p*ssy as the “Be All End All” and while I was not handing out coochie coupons to every nigga that walked down the street, I did not see my p*ssy as a way to get a man into a relationship. In fact, I wanted the opposite. Oh we can f*ck but do not expect to be my man or anything. I was content being f*ck buddies and if I thought you was catching feelings, you were cut off.

My first month of college I slept with two guys. One was SIGMA who taught me a thang or two. Boy, I could marry that damn tongue of his. He helped me refine “The Game”. I was often misunderstood because of the callous way of thinking I had and some guys got it twisted and spread the vicious rumor that I was a hoe but that was quickly squashed to any dude that tried to step to me as one. Most of it derived from bruised pride because I did not react I guess the way a “typical” female would act. I wasn’t for “sweating” a guy, being all thirsty and sh*t stalking them at the Union. I was more casual about it and since I am not a person big on phone calls, I deaded the calling all the damn time thing.

Enter “Three Phone Calls A Day Minimum” rule.

I lived it up during college. Hell college men spoiled me. You mean you will eat what and you do not want to hit? Open sesame *lol* I have kicked quite a few dudes out of my room post-eating the muffin. No hoes can sleep up in my bed. Yeah that earned the wrath of a few dudes who said they were not used to a female treating them like a bust down. Including one of SIGMA’s frat brothers who I let eat the muffin and kicked his ass out because wrestling was about to come on. He looks like Remy Shand but acts like DMX. Yeah he hated my guts for a while and if SIGMA was not working one of their parties I was denied admission. Oh well. I just strolled down the street to the Alpha or Kappa House. Never the Que House. You would never come out.

Enter Stalker Number 2, 3, and 4.

All were various guys that I knew and I guess I spit some game at them and they were infatuated with me. Refused to leave me alone. I’m like “Damn you didn’t even get the panties yet and you’re sweating me?” Get the f*ck back. Of course, a few stalked due to my habit of taking but not giving in return. Some were just poor confused guys who took my twisted humor and sarcasm as fact and actually thought I wanted a relationship.

And this was all before the end of my first year at school. Eventually Stalker numbers 3 and 4 left me alone, just throwing death glares my way at every party because I “played” them and had the campus looking at them as if they were dummies. Which they were. No one told you to wait outside my dorm all night hoping to catch me stumbling drunkenly back to my room. No one told you to knock at my door when my f*ck buddy was over and actually sit and wait in the lobby for dude to leave. Was it wrong that I started laughing in this guy’s face? Stalker number 2 was from Chicago, lived a few blocks away from me, of Jamaican descent **meaning he is genetically crazy**, and threatens to run me over with his car if he ever catches me in the streets. It was funny because he went to my cousin’s and best friend high school and we used to flirt with each other off and on but it was more in that playful rather than serious way. He moved to Florida after graduation but by 2002, he was back in Chicago. His last girlfriend ended up f*cking his best friend **I saw the sh*t coming a mile away, who buys the “best friend” a brand new X-Box and games for his birthday but only give you a cheap ass card, it wasn’t even a damn Hallmark at that** so he was all bitter and f*cked up from that. Ended up beating the brakes off dude. Of course my evil ass used to always joke about the sh*t especially when he pissed me off *which was often* and he wouldn’t talk to me for a day but I knew Thursday **his payday** he would always come around and take me out. His main problem was that he wanted a submissive girl. Someone who didn’t speak up and say sh*t, just let him be “the man”. Yeah as we can see what happened the last time he had a so-called submissive girl. Ended up spread eagle on his best friend’s bed. He wasn’t used to a dominant female and he tried to control me, which is a “no-go”. We weren’t in high school and this was not when we would just say little cute things to one another. I was a grown ass woman dawg. I already have a father thank you very much and if I do not listen to him what and the hell made him think I’m going to listen to him, of all people?

He also believed the way to a woman’s heart was through material things. He bought me whatever my eyes laid on and as a broke college student *he was working full time in Chicago* it came in handy for my weekly trips to the liquor store and various parties but that was not what I wanted. When I came in town, he spent his cash on me. When I left town, he spent cash on me. He bought my fall semester books and that was easily $500 *back before I learned that I didn’t need to buy every f*cking book for the class, hell when I still spent money on books instead of going half on a textbook or “sharing” with a classmate*, which of course meant money in my pocket because I had a scholarship that paid for my school books. However, he insisted and I sure did let him. He became something of a sugar daddy and even then, I got bored.

I believe men who “buy” rather than “earn” the affection of women are just setting you up for the Okie Doke. He wanted me to get comfortable with him spending money on me, trying to get me all dependant and sh*t on him. That was never going to happen, Mama did not raise a fool. It’s like, “Ok I give you money or whatever so when I step out it’s no bigger because I can buy your forgiveness” and since I’m dependant on you financially, then why not? Hell as long as you keep me in Gucci and Gold right? Wrong! Not the case in my book. I want real affection and not “Oh I can’t take you to the movies but here’s $200...Go nuts”. Which he did often because when he was not working, he was “kicking it with the fellas”. But we did go out every Thursday. I didn’t care too much because yours truly was still doing her thing on the side.

Of course my girls thought I was nuts but I don’t want your damn money! I’m not going to start blasting “Independent Woman” or anything but I’m not with a man because of what he can buy me, what he can give me. The last thing a man can ever call me is a gold digger but men act as if they don’t breeds gold diggers. Men are quick to give out their money, brag on how much money they have in the bank or are holding down, how many cars they have but get upset when a woman is after their dollars. While I expect you to have some type of financial means, I’m not going to write you off if you’re broke. Broke, with no motivations of doing something better with your life, yes. Broke with the intent of me supporting your black ass, hell yeah. But not mess with you because your money situation is not right right now? That's petty.

So of course he didn’t work out. In addition, did I mention he was crazy? He tried to act as if he was “Daddy” too much. In addition, he was insanely jealous and he was always accusing me of cheating on him. If I didn’t pick up his call on the first ring, I’m cheating. If I was not in my room when he called, I was cheating. Is that a dude I hear in the background? I’m cheating. It is not too many times that I am going to be accused before I actually do the sh*t. Ok technically I was cheating, I mean it is not as if he had a real interest in screwing and a woman has needs *lol*. He was content giving his money to me and hanging with the guys. But he was just a general headache. Plus since I was already 2 hours away and he was in Chicago, I guess he assumed that I would waste every weekend and come home just to be ignored by him. Yeah ok, not when there was free alcohol and parties every weekend. I remember he drove 2 hours to my school to curse me out and left. Came home half drunk from a party and he’s in my damn dorm room in a chair facing the door. ICEE let him in. Did she not know he would kill her, kill me and dispose of both of our bodies? Was she not listening and a witness to his craziness? But she got tired of the 14 phone calls in one hour *I had already dipped to go party* and she said she felt sorry for him because he sounded all pitiful when he called from outside. Plus it was oh so cold outside. Sh*t he could’ve froze in his Cutlass as far as I’m concerned. Sh*t sobered my ass up quick when I walked in and saw him. He called me a “trifling bitch”, told me he had better not catch me in the streets, and drove back to Chicago.

He is another one that randomly calls to dog me out. I just click on his ass as well.