29 year old Melody Nicole is deeply rooted into art and photography. She's so into art and photography, that she dropped out of college to pursue art and is now one of the most respected artists to date. As her art continues to become a thing of ful...
The next few days I was trying my best to pull out that inner artist in me who was willing to make her ancestors proud. I hadn't been out much... Hell, I spend a grip on rent so going out would defeat the purpose of me paying my arm, leg, and soul to stay in my condo.
The sun was coming close to meeting the moon... I had two apple cider scented candles sitting on my coffee table... A little bit of light peeked through my curtains. My best friend Emeka was coming over... It seemed almost as if I hadn't seen Meka in months. Both of our schedules only permitted us to really see each other every blue moon... The life of two young queens who had to crawl out of the mud.. Both of us now doing what we loved, even if it cost us little to no social life.
Jill Scott sang to me softly as the smell of chowder dipped baked chicken filled the air. My doorbell rang... I wiped my hands with a towel and went over to open it. Meka stood there looking like the melanin goddess that she was...
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"Okay friend you're giving me baddie rich school girl in these overalls." I hugged her... She walked in sniffing the air like a hound. "Okay so I'm starting to think you literally cook everyday which leads me to wonder why in the world you're still single." Meka said as she walked over to the couch. I shook my head, "We came here for girl talk.. not to discuss getting tied up with somebody's nappy headed son." I replied... Walking back to the kitchen to put finishing touches on our meal.
"Who said anything about anybody's nappy headed son? Dating is about you... What you want... How you want to be treated, catered to... Maybe even a foot rub or ten from a well educated black young man with abs of pure steal and a smile that puts tingles down your spine." Meka snarled, "why when we think of dating do we automatically feel it's about being chosen? We as women also have the right to choose."
"You're right." I replied as I sashayed over with a plate in one hand... A glass of Merlot in the other. I handed Meka both. She looked at me, sitting the wine down on the coffee table. Cutting out a portion of the chicken... She put it to her mouth like a judge on some cooking show. As she chewed, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. "umph! You keep cooking like this... forget a man I just might have to date you." I laughed.
By 10pm Meka and I both were full. Meka lay back on the couch with her overalls unfastened... Glass of wine in her right hand. "So I told him to go ahead and be with her.. if that's who he wants to be with." I was tuned in to Meka's story about Damon... A producer she met just a few months ago who was more confused than a new college student changing majors every single semester. I sat up, taking a sip of my wine. "So now he's back with his ex wife?" I hadn't heard anything like what Meka was telling me.
Meka leaned in... "The ex wife who stole 5 grand from his account to go on a Instagram baddie type trip to Jamaica.. and posted it all over Instagram with her cheeks waving to the world." I shook my head and couldn't help but to repeat it for my sanity. "So you mean to tell me she took a measly 5 grand just to flex on Instagram and sacrifice her marriage? Damn they do anything for the gram now a days."
"ANYTHING!" Meka added on. She shrugged.. "But... He's back with her and she's about as badd as a three year old with Daddy issues." Meka sipped. My eyes widened... "No!" Meka nodded... Taking out her phone.
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I glanced at the photo... "Oh she's bad and that skin?.. Chile what is this.. Jesus' skin care routine?" I asked in shock. Meka shook her head, taking her phone back. "I mean I definitely won't knock a baddie when I see one and I can't knock anyone for wanting who they choose, but don't have me over your place, kissing on my neck, cooking for me... When all along you knew you had no intentions on taking it any further than a few random hook ups and crusty salmon... Which he made EVERYTIME I came over there." Meka said annoyed.
I laughed... "Well at least you found out when you did and you only knew him for a few months. Imagine being years into this bullshit having to deal with him and his ex." I said... Doing my job of reassuring my bestie.
Meka sipped the last of her wine... "Right. Then you'd just have to bail me out." We both laughed.
I shook my head, letting out a deep "tired of these dudes" sigh... "Are we going to have to pray, get baptized, and fast for a while month to get a good man?" Meka let in a gulp of air and exhaled.... "You mean fast for a whole year right?" I sat back further on my couch, rubbing my forehead. I then sat up and leaned forward as if I were the all Star on a debate team, ready to play devil's advocate. "I mean... It's like this... You get into a situation and even while thinking you have a clear understanding.... There's still bullshit.
You get into a monogamous relationship... Still.. the lies. You decide to be friends and these dudes STILL beat around the bush and lie. At this point we as female milleneals have no choice BUT to stay single. This dating life comes with too much stress... And I'm not having a stroke for nobody's indecisive entitled ass son."
Meka agreed... Coming back from the kitchen with a fresh bottle. "And this my friend... Is why we have wine."
