Straight Fucking

Pack Up Your Feelings

"Baby, I'm sorry, aiight? You know them girls don't mean shit to me. I mean... they don't. I just, ya know, do my thang and then dip. You're the one that I love, D."

I rolled my eyes at the phone. This is bullshit. It's all lies. I know it and he knows I know it. We've been through this shit so many times that it's not even funny.

"Really, Tyson?"

"What you don't believe me? See that's your problem. You always thinking the worst of me and shit. Nigga get tired of having to defend himself to you."

"Well, stop being a nigga that need to defend himself. And my problem, as you say, is that I allowed you to lie to me and treat me like I am less than the queen that I am, Tyson. But I don't have to worry about that anymore. You're someone else's problem now. Toodoos, Tyson."

This conversation was two months ago. My ex-boyfriend, Tyson, has been blowing me up ever since. I finally relented and let him come over to explain to me why his dick was always getting him into trouble. Now usually, I don't give second chances. Damn sure don't do thirds. But here I am, letting this commoner disrupt the peace of my queendom. I'm sure what he is gonna say when he gets here is gonna be the same bullshit. But since I am trying to be less of the bitch that people say that I am, I'll allow the peasant to say his peace before I send him on his way.

I'm indulging in a glass of wine when the doorbell rings. I wait until he rings it again. I'm not in a rush to let him in. Ugh. Whoever said that forgiveness was therapeutic is dumb as fuck. I love a nice grudge with my after-dinner drink. The doorbell rang again and I sauntered my way over. Yes I saunter, not walk. I opened the door and there he stood. Why did he have to look like sex on legs? Smooth complexion, beautiful smile, looking and smelling like... ok focus, bitch.

"Tyson."

"D'Ovanay. As beautiful as ever."

He leaned forward to give me a kiss but I turned my head. All he caught was a mouth full of Brazilian body wave. He chuckled softly. I waved my hand so that he could come inside. No need to give my neighbors a show they didn't pay for. Tyson walked around my living room as if he owned it. I picked up my glass and refilled it.

"So what do you want to talk about, Tyson?"

"May I sit?"

"If you must."

He lifted his eyebrow before sitting on the couch. I claimed my spot on the love seat and stared at him.

"So how've you been, D?"

I sighed. "Tyson, cut the bullshit. You didn't come here to talk about my school day or the weather or some other mundane issues. Just get on with it. I have some things to do later on and I need to get ready for them."

"I see some things never change. If things aren't done your way, they're deemed mundane. That was my issue with you, D'Ovanay. You never wanted to do things that were outside of your handbook."

I looked at him as if he'd grown another head. "What the hell are you talking about? What handbook?"

"We always had to do things your way, D. Dates had to be planned at least 36 hours in advance. We couldn't do anything spontaneous. You didn't do anything that was outside or could cause you to sweat or be dirty. You never wanted to experiment outside of the bedroom."

"Excuse me?"

"You were so vanilla, D. I had... have... needs. Needs you weren't meeting."

"Oh. Ok. So it's my fault that you are a deceiving whore. Great. Let me add that to my resume."