For M.J

Chapter One, Part One

In Chapter One, Part One: Where some would say it's obvious I'm just maybe a slight bit obsessed with Jane being mine

" 'Hello world, does anyone know where I can buy this thing they call Jane?' head ass"

"Ole, I've never talked to Jane a day in my life but it's a trend now headass"

"Nahh, your I have anxiety headass"

Laughs left everyone's mouths and I cringed at the thought of me soon crying then there was a clutch at my chest, and overprotective ears, mouth not too common in reciting back, In which what if all of these were true? Jane was special, everyone loved her and if you didn't you were lame or simply to her exact words 'a hater' but, even so I could never sum up to tell her how I've felt about her. She'd laugh in my face. Earlier before I figured I'd just been in love but now I was wondering..... Did I only want Jane because everyone else wanted her? She'd been a sight to sore eyes for me since I was thirteen, while she had every 8th grader at The Wood wrapped around her beautiful off-brown manicure, I was a lady last on her list to get her attention but she'd always had mine. A month in and the smell of her is always taunting me. Now she's at the side of my ex girls jean pockets even before she was my ex she always made an appearance poking her way out a body of all shapes and sizes no matter the style or accessories. She's so smooth her words and expression that showed me she'd love to treat me like a toy playing with her here and there, I enjoyed her honesty to me; she annihilates  ill thoughts of what my innocence really was and I couldn't wait to hear what she had to say. In or out the room she made sure to let me know she was watching me. I'm always the topic of discussion with her, I love the way she lets her name roll off my tongue when she was around. Still I'd never have the guts to just go up and talk to her first- not the way everyone else did. Now 183 days gone by and here she is STILL being brought up in every conversation, she made my mouth water. A blissful news of dry had burst over my tongue at the knowing I could have her on my lips. At this my mother hated her she'd made sure to mention it every time she was brought up. But Jane gave me butterflies inside every part of my body and I'd be dammed to open up the hatch and let them out.  A scream and a yell to my disobedience: a lecture in order every night coming home. It didn't help that mother had seen more then one of my acquaintance and a few close cousins hanging off the very end of Jane having her to their every will and way. Did I care? No! it just made me want to make her mine even more. I had a plan, 212 days she'd let my wingman know how much she loved my plan.   Day 214 mother asked is it really a good idea to want something everyone had a taste of? I laughed but then mother came back harder in a response of which I'd have to ask myself as well, Doesn't that make her dirty? a crime is what she is and there should be a solicitation sign across her body! She screams. I didn't get the hatred towards her, not to mention the way people treated her is always secure. I'd even asked around, and again always: she was a pretty brown thing, green when she meant business not at all envious to land or love, and when purple locs of joy wrapped around her like art she joins you into a conversation so blissful you'd never have to refuse it ending you'd always remember no matter how long ago it was.   In this session of time a count was lost but we begin again at the year of 2016 now a month of twelve and the day of thirteen merely Two days after the 18th year into my birth, she makes an appearance of my new found freedom. Telling me how much she's missed me and how I was the only one she's ever wanted. Now it's my turn and I want to ask why not tell me this all these years ago, all while  I lamely ogled and drooled like a lost puppy over your presence? Now it's her turn and she's still. No expression just her beauty leaning over into me, she claims it was for my own good. And for our best experience she'd decided I wasn't ready for her, I was merely immature and a follower all while toasting to letting me grow, it worked your mature enough for me now. It's independence, she continues on by telling me not to dare thank her for allowing me space to get the hang of understanding and loving my own type of confidence. I was never gonna thank her,  she goes on about how 14 passed then 15 and 16, and now 17 but she'd spare me the details of how desperate I seemed to allow others to take control of how much I really wanted her because quite frankly it embarrasses her to just be the one to tell it. There was no smile just an existing window of opportunity. She grabbed me by the hands and whims me to the living room because for the moment she was sharing my company with two aunts and joined by them was one sign of worry and another sign of allowing individuality. I admired both signs and while it was great to have an audience I wanted Jane to myself for a few hours. She sat there wide in the open in-front of me. While in swiftness her body lay elegant across the dining table, the dining table had a highlight of essence alluring through the room but her on top of it made it's appearance dull of something to no compare of her, eyes glossed over like the moss from the bottom of the coldest pond drowning over tiny flowers of elm she was to be split two ways and wide open for me to witness everything great about her, the fuses of grape now visible from the split shimmering down each side. It was magic taking her piece by piece to be sprinkled down the middle of  the sweetest smelling SHOW. Since younger I've always been a chocolate type of woman so I preferred Og Kush but, she assured me C.R.E.A.M  was the second best thing to taste her in. With small amounts of desperation I asked What's the first? Well she whispers in my ear telling me how she's deciding not to say too much until she knows I'd enjoy the taste of her between my lips, she's slick when she started off at a roll over the direct tip of my tongue, the wave of chimes running across my jaws, playing it like a round of Russian roulette my mouth ignoring the nostrils constant bragging of being the winner.  I assured her I loved the picture of her on my mouth the exact same way she describes. Instructions, give me instructions to handle you at your best abilities! Here we are my hands clean but still a slight appearance of her leftover nougat scent, i run my nail down the middle hoping for a straight shot for openness but the shake in me tilts and tears a crooked smile upon her, now I'm apologizing. I should've apologized in advance, I'm extremely new to this-this is my first time touching her I should've done a self preparation. She assured me it's okay to have a few imperfections here and there and her herself couldn't be perfect even if it was her given name. Now again janes in my hands and they won't stop shaking. She's made me nervous overdoing the introduction for me to enjoy her and now here I am a fumbling mess, she's falling out, why won't she stay still. Now even off the sides pieces of her like tears landing on the table and floor. FUCK she's dirty and I can't clean her, maybe mother was right. She's not mine alone, everyone wants a piece of her! Jane doesn't do it but her look gives me a scream to the side of my face, telling me to hurry and pick her up because there are no germ rules applied to dealing with me going on to establish leadership 'I'm jane' she says, while I just cry and cry. My tears that are evident out of my eyes and on my cheeks drip onto my favorite jeans there's also lips quivers and hushed laughs from the right of me but, not from Jane because she's to busy being disappointed in my lack of care for her, my aunt at a joyful scolding at the edge of the entrance way- and she wants to know if I need help? Do I need help?! No I didn't need help. I'd prefer to figure Jane out on my own even if I cried while doing so. One more shot Jane whispers and if that shot doesn't work I ask Jane, she's solemn but I know what that is- that look means that's it for me and her.  All the pieces from the table and any 'ruins' from the floor are back in place. She's Swift again just in my hands anticipating what I'll fuck up with her next. My thumbs roll over her bottom a grip at the end under each of my manicured nails. From memory I know she enjoys the right type of motivation with a tongue.  From thy left then to thy right, the very tip-top of my tongue sleighs quick over her flat bottom. A roll,  tip-top lick, and tuck until I'm completely satisfied with her new look. She assured me she was fine again and she didn't need to be perfect as long as I loved her the way she was, me on the other hand decided I didn't like her being extremely big at the top and tiny at the bottom. I love portions but of the same size, this was my fault and yes I'd still enjoy every piece of her company but, so many things were going wrong. Flick of the wrist she lit like a fire place in Florida's rainy July. From my left hand to a permanent place in my right. No warning or alerts I sucked her in my mouth in one quick breath. That was the next mistake, I choked up on her she gave me no fair warning to how fast she'd slide down my throat. I wasn't used to that kind of speed. No pats to the back and no liquids to help guide her down. And again this time like a kiss that should not have been repeated a second time even still I gave her another try between my fingers wrapped around not too tight and not too loose. Up to my lips, in between my lips, no inhaling no exhaling. Now to me it was a bit of a waste but throughout this entire delay I enjoyed how good my lips looked locked around her body my eyes dart back and forth a shine from me passed on over her, her once flat appearance now rolled together not neat but there with a shine to add a finish to my work. Jane in this moment did tell the truth earlier, she had imperfections but they were beautiful. Inhale her scent, I didn't get the chance of realizing she was also counting my mistakes. She's snatched away from me and now we're finished she was through with me. She'd told me there was no more stalling that she should've know I wasn't ready. No matter the begs or pleads she didn't listen she said she needed someone with experience until she was sure I was ready for her. It stinged me to see she'd made her way outside joining  my once laughing aunt and gave her every bit of her glory, the part i'd left my beautiful mark on was chopped off, and when asked why, because it was merely the worst part of her- all touched and glossed over by my unknowingness. Even though hours before she'd told me how okay she was with my imperfections of her, now she'd decided to cut me loose. Coughing, ogling, crying. As a matter of fact: FUCK JANE! I didn't need her and I damn sure didn't want her anymore. If she wanted to be with me she'd find a way to except that our experience together won't always be perfect but it's the effort that counts. The warmth we both feel when we're around each other and the connection we continue to have even when we're miles apart. So for now Jane at the 18th year of my life I'll let you be- I'll let you do what you want, when you want, with whoever you want. But listen and hear me clearly. On the day that strikes where I am the year 21 in life.  I won't be afraid to come get you, I will not care about embarrassment of asking you to come back to me. Nor will I allow you to make me feel undeserving of you. I will have you Jane, in completion of yours truly.

- unexperiencedly obsessed.

Next you'll be reading Chapter One, Part Two: Where a good little conversation  about Jane between two friends goes an astonishingly long way.

[Un-edited, with no apology necessary]