(Lesbian) Loving You Ain't Easy

Chapter 1

“Just fuckin’ leave me alone!”  Jasmine screamed at me from behind the closed door.  “Babe, I swear we are just friends, nothing more! I replied.

Jasmine and I have been fighting everyday, seems like, for the past month.   Every female that likes my statuses or pictures on Facebook, she assumes I’m fuckin’.  I know I’ve made mistakes in the past and gave every female that showed me a little attention my number, but I’ve changed so much since then, yet she refuses to realize that.

Jasmine and I have been dating for 6 years off and on since we were juniors in high school.

“Yeah right, Tracy. “  Jasmine said.  If she’s JUST your friend, why the hell are you calling her “boo” and sending her winking smiley faces?  If she’s JUST your friend, why every time you post a picture of yourself, she’s the first to comment on it?  I swear on my dead daddy’s grave, Tracy, if you call yourself creeping on me with that bitch, I’m beyond through with your ass this time!” she said behind tears.

“Babe, please, just hear me out.” I said. “You know got damn well you’re all I want and need!  None of them hoes on Facebook mean shit to me.  I can’t help if that girl is feeling me, just like you can’t help when dudes and studs be jockin’ you.  I don’t trip because I know where your heart is, and that’s with me.  No woman will ever take your place, baby, I promise you that.”

Jasmine slowly opened the bedroom door.  “Pinky promise, thumb touch?” she said as she gestured for my hand.

“Pinky promise, thumb touch.” I replied as I grabbed her pinky and pressed my thumb on to hers.

I never understood why Jasmine was so insecure and jealous of every woman I associated with.  She was beyond gorgeous and she knew it.  She’s short, but I love that about her because I’m not too tall myself, 5’2” to be exact.  We stand eye to eye.  She has sexy full lips that she keeps glossy and they taste just like cherries.  Her hair is jet black, which falls to the middle of her back and always smells of strawberries and cream shampoo.  She has beautiful penny brown eyes with eyelashes of a baby. And her skin complexion is smooth and the color of caramel.  I always tell her she looks like Kyla Pratt’s twin, but she thinks I’m over exaggerating. 

“Babe, you gotta learn to trust me more.” I said as I wiped the tears from her eyes.  “Letting something as simple as Facebook come in between us is not going to work.”

“I know, hunny, but I can’t stand the thought of you having feelings for anyone else but me.” She replied.  “We have been through so much together for so long, and I REFUSE to let some random female of the Internet take my place.” she said.

Not too long after I graduated from college, I had gotten my own place, hoping to convince Jasmine to move in with me, but she was too scared to.  Jasmine hasn't once tried to come out the closet to her folks.  She had been living with her parents since we graduated high school.  They waited on her hand and foot.  I guess you could say Jasmine was pretty damn spoiled.  She doesn’t cook.  She barely knows how to make a bed up.  And on top of that, she dropped out of college last year.  She was supposed to graduate when I did, but the college life caught up to her pretty quick once the partying begun.  So when Jasmine comes and stay with me, I do all the cooking, laundry, cleaning, and bill paying.

Everyone thinks I’m crazy for still being with her.  None of my friends like her, but only because she gave them reason not to.  She doesn’t care though.  She has that "Fuck Everybody" attitude.  She thinks it should just be her and me, which is another reason why she always trippin’ about my Facebook page. 

Sadly, I didn’t know all of this before Jasmine and I started dating.  We met on Myspace back when it was first poppin’.  All we did was message each other back a forward and lust over each other’s pictures.  It was a month after we had started talking before I actually spoke to Jasmine over the phone.  We stayed up late hours of the night talking and some times just listening to each other breathe.  Some nights we would, what I call “phone bone”, and end up falling asleep on each other.