Chapter 1: Volume 5

It's okay though.

I had been left often.

Abandonment was a feeling

I feared immensely.

Who wants to be left?

After my flashback, I did what I always do: bounce back.

Just call me a rubber ball!

So now I'm sitting here. Not feeling sorry for myself, just sitting.
It's something how I have a tendency to think of you when I'm down (even though you walked away from me).

Most of the time my mind goes back to that day we sat on you couch talking. You seemed like the first guy I felt I could tell anything. We used to talk about everything. Do you remember how you used to share with me?

This particular time, you sat there with my thighs draped across your lap...my head close to yours. I could hear you breathing and I felt as though I had sat inside of your soul. I could hear you breathe and had sat close enough to smell your breath. I had my right hand on your chest and could feel your heart beat.

I know it may sound sensual if someone were to read my thoughts, but, for the first time it wasn't. We just liked to sit like that. That was my safe position. There you were, feeding me good things...great thoughts...loving words. I needed that and you didn't mind giving it to me.

This thought made me miss you more. Made me feel so lonely; however, it also makes me feel so happy to know that I had that. I know assuredly that, if I never have it again, what you gave me in those cuddling moments was priceless. The accolades you spoke to me. The pure love that I felt as you courted my mind/

I didn't even want to go to the rest room. I just wanted to sit there.

Those memories are carefully placed in my memory under "Memories I Keep." You made me feel so secure and I let my heart float when I was with you. I let myself feel pretty. I could finally blossom. I was budding and now that bud is forever frozen in time waiting for the one who will set her free...to defrost her. Most times I wonder whether or not it is even possible any more.

My heart trusted yours. My body craved your touch. My mind longed for those unctuous words, the affirmations, and the respect you had for me.

I lost it, and I have no idea why.

Now, I find the man that may respect me, but doesn't know what to say to me... May have the sweet words, but demands too much of my time...Might like to have my attention, all of it, but doesn't care about my children...Most of them don't really care that I am busy, exhausted or have children. Maybe he's not capable of love or just wants one or two wild nights of passionate (or even rough) sex...He's the man that sends me pictures of his penis whether I want them or not...The man that asks me to send him pictures of my vagina...daily and, when I refuse, I don't hold the same level of excitement. They abandon me whether I want them to or not...it hurts.

I was so enthralled with you that I forgot how it felt to be alone....now I remember. Even when I had a plethora of numbers in my phone, I still knew that you were the one I longed for. Now it doesn't really matter because I don't even know where you are and I'm not interested in going backward anymore. I have finally decided, after many years of turning my face to the damage abandonment causes, that I will no longer turn my face from it. I am convinced that I will have the man that is for me; however, I am certain...he cannot be you.

I emerge.

Chapter 1: Volume 4

Whether it worked or not, I tried it.

The first guy to make it through all of the red tape seemed to be okay. He had an amazing smile, according to his pictures on the website, and his body was, well, um, um, um!

Okay, I have to admit it, a man with a nice body. A guy with a well-taken-care-of body.

Don't get me started!

We talked and laughed on the phone for hours, but he could never replace you. Instead of the playful bantering we once engaged in, he liked to use sexual humor. I didn't like it, but, to talk to someone, especially someone fine, I tolerated it. However, one day I had to tell him that it bothered me.

I was talking about one of the guys who made it through to the phone call portion of the process, but offended me during our first conversation:

"Well, I was a little offended by a guy talkin' to me about what he was gonna do to me and it was the first time I had talked to him on the phone. I mean, come on, tellin' me about how he would make sweet love to me. How can a man make love to someone he's not in love with? Besides, I had already told him I was done with the sex thing and that I wouldn't do it until I get married.

"...if I got in there, everybody would know I'd been in it. I have ta leave my mark all up in that! You'd be tellin' everybody I was yo daddy [laughing hysterically]"

Even though I knew that was his way of joking, I didn't like it.

"You know MADUNIQUE, I'd really like to tell you somethin' that's bothering me" I stated reluctantly.

"What's that?"

"I don't like it when you say stuff like that."

"Like what?"

"Tallkin' about havin sex with me when I already told you I wasn't interested in that."

"Well, that's the way I am! I keep tellin' people that I joke about sex, but I don't mean anything by it."

"Okay, I understand that, but I'm asking you not to do it with me because it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Alright, if it offends you, I won't do it anymore. I don't want to offend you."

Sooner or later I knew he and I would have to meet; it was inevitable...so I thought. However, each time he was in town and every time he was ready to meet, I was doing something important and we couldn't.

I began to think: Maybe he's not who I think he is. Maybe he's not that extremely attractive guy in the photos on the website.

As time continued on, I realized we would never meet. It just wasn't gonna happen.

I remember the day it dawned on me that he either wasn't what I thought he was, or he just wasn't interested in me...not even a little bit.

I asked him, "Why haven't we met yet?"

"We just keep missing each other"

"I think it's more than that"

"It's not"

"Sometimes I think you're either in a relationship, or you're not interested in me."

"Why would you say that"

"Because, even when we've arranged something, you never seem to come through. So, either you're with someone, and that's completely ok, or I'm just not important enough for you to make the time to see me.

"Well, I'm not in a relationship"

"Okay, I see...Wow. So, I'm not important enough?"

"You said that, I never said that."

"So, what is it?"

"I don't know"

"Are you the same guy in the pictures?"

"Yep"

"And that's not your cousin in the photos?"

[laughing] "Nooooo! I wouldn't do anything like that."

"Oh, okay. Well, let me go ahead and fix my children dinner. I'll talk to you later"

"Alright"

As we said our good-byes and disconnected our conversation, two things happened: I decided to stop trying to see him and an overwhelming sense of solitude and isolation fell on me. All of a sudden I felt a flushing all over my body. My heart began to race; it palpitated. I could barely breathe. I wasn't there. I stopped to be where my mind took me.

I remembered you saying "You're a whole-lot of woman to love." I tried to hypothesize your meaning. I analyzed it at that moment. I had no idea what you meant, so my mind went back to what a man said to me almost three years before I met you:

For three weeks I knew something was going on. I was begging, "Please tell me who you're seeing. I know you're seeing someone. Be honest with me! I just know it. I can feel it!"

For three weeks he remained dead silent, but I knew he just didn't want to tell me. The cost was too great. I did too much for him and I thought he was afraid of the unknown. Would she do the same things I did?

I remember the night I spent there before my final interview in Burlington. I looked at the comforter sets, mattresses, the queen-sized bed and the countless other things I bought for him.

His wife had left him right before I met him and he was sleeping on the floor with two mattresses that smelled like cigarette smoke. Mix-matched pillows, pillow cases, sheets and bedspreads. Nothing matched. She had pulled a moving truck up to his house while he was spending Thanksgiving with his family (out of town) and emptied the house out.

I had never bought anything for a man. I just didn't do that, but there was something about this man. He made me feel so free and it felt like he loved me. It didn't take long before I spent my entire tax return trying to help him with lawyer payments.

Out of all of the things I gave to him, I gave my holiness away. I gave up my avocation of teaching dance. I stopped reaching out and up and I only reached to him...that was my fault as well as my biggest mistake and regret. I gave him my soul. It was tied to him like I had never been tied to any man. I was both entangled and ensnared...nearly to distruction.

I even gave him the one thing I vowed to never give a man...my orgasm.

I had never had one.

Thirty-three years old and I had never allowed myself to have one with a man. I could make myself have one, but I had never had one with a man.

It was the source of my power. Being raped multiple times had taken away any physical power I had over what people did to my body. I couldn't make the men stop. They had permission and they raped me at will dripping salty sweat in my eyes and squirting disgusting semen in my face...some of them even urinated on me. The smells! So many smells that today I have to remind myself:

You're not there anymore. No one can do that to you anymore.

Oh, the many times I found a spot on the ceiling to crawl  around as they contorted my young body like an unbaked soft pretzel. They made me limber. I had to be flexible. They would break my legs if it were necessary to get me in the position they wanted me in....at times I couldn't breathe. It was beyond horrible! I seemingly had no power and many of them laughed at me, so I wouldn't dare shed a tear to entertain them!

After being molested and raped so many years, I learned my own body. I spent plenty of time with my body parts learning how to please myself...and...I learned how to turn my orgasm on and off. I learned how to make my body wet without having an orgasm. I learned to move my body to speed of the process of their orgasm so they could get off of me.

I did it so well. Sex...the accolades of men were what caused me to take on my vixen role. It was a role I never wanted to play, but life cast me as the harlot and I played the role for as long as life insisted upon casting me in it.

I thought he was different. He didn't know as much as I knew sexually, but he said he didn't want me to show him because he didn't want to see me that way.

I did what I could to please him, then I began to trust him. I wanted to trust someone. I wanted to see what it felt like to get one from a man. I wanted to see if it was different from giving one to myself.

One day, after we had went out and had a nice time, I had decided I would give it to him. I didn't tell him. As we began, I remembered thinking: How am I going to do this? I don't even know how to do this with a man. Then, I thought about what worked when I was alone: Relax...Relax, Yolanda, he won't hurt you.

He began to please me and I let myself go.

I DID IT! I thought

I did it, I did it, I did it!

...and boy was I unable to control myself. After that, I just let myself go every time with him. Man, it was good to have one of those.

BUT

Who would've known I would give my present to someone who didn't see himself as a gift? Who would've thought I would give my orgasm to a man who was going around giving other women orgasms?

I wasn't special...I was convenient.

At that moment, all I could think about was how I was there to console him as she portrayed him as a terrible husband. She was so evil and he was such a pitiful victim. As I looked around his house and saw all of the things I had purchased and I saw how he didn't want to spend time with me. He didn't want to have sex with me anymore. He couldn't even look me in the face...I knew something was wrong.

He no longer wanted my gift.

He denied it every time I asked, but somehow, I knew he was lying. He was with someone else.

Finally, as we arrived to my final interview for a teaching position that I strongly desired at a school where I knew I could learn a lot about teaching.

He turned to me and looked me in the face and said:

"Maybe I don't want to be with you anymore. Maybe I want to be with ..."

That same feeling came over me...the flushing...I'm sure I was red I felt tears coming, but I just couldn't bring myself to cry.

WHY?!

Why would you do this before I go into my interview?...Why didn't you just tell me when I asked you?

I walked into my interview with my head held high. I had done it before. Growing up, I had always done it. I'd cry alone because no one deserved the satisfactions of seeing me knocked down.

Fighting tears, feeling embarrassed, knowing I had be unjustly disrespected and dishonored. I was dying. The one thing I had that I was saving for my future husband...I had given away and I couldn't get it back

I rocked the interview and came out with a start date, but I still had to ride 45 minutes with him after he had given me that horrific news.

All of this came to mind. The trip back to Durham...feeling that rejection. Knowing that I didn't mean anything to him. Understanding that my tears would mean nothing. Feeling dirty and knowing that I couldn't even cleanse myself with my tears.They meant nothing to the men that raped me, they meant nothing to my mother when I asked her to stop letting them, they meant nothing to my family when I asked them to take me in...get me out of that house...please...somebody's gonna kill me!

Nobody ever listened to me. Nobody ever wanted me.

When we got back to the house, his house, I begged him to fight me. I humiliated myself.

"Wrestle with me! wrestle me!" I beseeched him.

In my mind I was really saying Touch me, please touch me, love me, give it back to me. Give my love back to me.

He couldn't...He had already thrown it away.

Just like you did.

Chapter 1: Volume 3

So I sat there on a Saturday night and I wondered what I was doing:

I know I hadn't allowed myself to fall into anything with this guy and I understand that I didn't feel forced or manipulated into doing something I didn't want to do; however, I feel like this could be the beginning or something destructive.

I was not unlike those tragic heroes and heroines in Shakespearean and Sophoclesean tragedies. I had my moment to correct my behavior. It all made sense; I needed to stop going on those sites and get healed from the pain that was plaguing me, but, the truth is, I was just too hurt to go to God. I felt like I needed a man to fill that void. I was lonely for a man.

There seated on my chaise lounge was a woman who became angry at herself for not being good enough for the one man who made her feel secure. In fact, Yolanda became so livid that she was determined to do something about it. She was going to find someone to feed her hear. She felt she needed the unctuous words he fed her; that became her quest and she persued it with ardent zeal!

I started adding everyone who wanted to become my friend, but I knew I could only manage one networking site other than Facebook. Before I knew it, I was on one of the networking sites, known for finding black men and women, more than I was on, Facebook, my favorite networking site. I was hooked. I was on a mission and I was ready to make that mission a part-time job.

If I don't find a man I'm gonna die! If I don't have an opportunity to feel myself...to be a woman. I needed that attention you gave me. I needed to feel like I was more than a mother, teacher, colleague, friend, confidant...I needed to feel feminine. I needed to hear myself giggle....laughing inside...smiling like my teeth weren't crooked. You just made me so happy. I needed it. I was addicted to it. I loved the way you loved me.

This time I had a better method for screening guys. Although my goal at first was to simply land a date, I wanted to be sure that I heavily screened undesireable suitors like SEXYPAPA69, DIGGININU, and NASTYROMMY (I haven't talked about him yet). My new process was quite methodical and I was proud of myself because it seemed to be working:

1. Look carefully at the screen name before reading a note. If the name had "INCHES, NASTY, or any references to sexual positions, I deleted it.
2. Once I've read the note, before I decided to respond, I researched the guy's site. I looked at his message, pictures, quotes and friends.
3. Respond to the note and wait for him to ask for contact information
4. When he asks for contact info, I gave him my Yahoo IM ID.
5. We had to chat for on the IM until I felt comfortable enough to talk to him on the phone.
6. Once I decided it was okay to talk to him, I still waited at least a month before meeting him and we had to meet in a public place. I was sure to tell him this ahead of time.

Did my process work?

Chapter 1: Volume 2

So, I got your text this morning, during my planning period, and I was visibly shook all day. My students could see it all over my face.

I couldn't think of what to do.

What does a girl do when the man she was falling so hard for apparently doesn't want her anymore? I thought.

"I know" I responded to myself.

I'll go check out some networking sites! Besides, there are always men on there looking for some chick to get with. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I wanted to meet someone like you, but anything was better than feeling the loneliness I felt without having you in my life.

I’m not gonna think about it!

As I erected my page, I looked through my phone to find my most fierce and sexy pictures. How can I spin this? I contemplated.

Ok, I want to meet a nice guy that will take me out (maybe I’ll get a relationship out of the deal), so I needed to use a more plain photo. As I looked at the other female photos online, I knew there was no way I could compete with any of them. I mean, there’s no way I’m sticking out my tongue, while I sit there half-naked with my butt or breasts sticking or hanging out. No matter how desperate I was, No matter how much was hurting, No matter what I went through and how bad I felt, I wasn’t going to discount myself. If they were going to know anything about me, they would know that I had integrity, values and intellect.

I kept it clean.

I don't wanna be with no body that ain't worth somethin'. I mean, if I can't have you, I have to have someone closely related to the likes of you!

I received over a hundred views the first day and just as many notes. Wow! Subsequent to that day, I had so many hits and notes daily that I couldn't read them all! As I attempted to sift through them, my method of sifting through the massive list of people was to find a pattern: …some guys were really interested...Maybe I'll respond to the ones who sent me multiple messages because they really wanted to talk to me. They're very interested! I thought.

I gave out my number to about twenty guys. Twenty, yea that should be enough, I contemplated. Yea, that'll keep me from thinking about "you-know-who," I prognosticated.

The calls started coming almost immediately after I sent my number.

The first guy, SEXYPAPA69, started telling me about his "member" as soon as we started talking:

"So, what you gon do wit deese ten inches girl?" he said proudly.

I could see his chest stuck out through the phone.

"Umm, excuse me?" I replied stupefied

"Stop actin' like you don't know what I'm talkn abt sexy mama, you know I wanna..."

Sorry babe, can't tell you much about him, I hung up. That was the end of that. SEXYPAPA69 wasn't anything like you (or anyone else I wanted to be with) AND I don't think he was born in 69, if you know what I mean.

The next guy to call me was DIGGINUSOHARD. I didn't think it would be that bad.

"Hello, may I speak to Yolanda?"

"This is she" and I'm thinking Didn't I tell you in the note that this is my personal cell phone?

"I'm so glad you gave me your number sweetheart. I promise you won't regret it because you gonna be mines. Your search is ova baby. I can tell you is the woman I needs in my life. All you gotta do is jus gi me a chance and Ima rock yo worl! I ain't playin' eitha..."

He continued on like that for at least 20 minutes.

"Okay, I..." He interrupts...

"I know what you thinkin' baby and I ain't yo average man. I don't drink, smoke or even go outside. I'm a homebody. You ain't gotta worry about me cheatin' on you or nothin'! I will wine and dine you right here in my house. I will rub yo feet...lick 'em if you want me to..."

He went on like that for another 30 minutes.

"Well, I..." He cuts me off...

"Sweetie, I looked at all yo pictures...You is fine. I'm lookin at yo picture right now. The one with you in the green top, it's like you lookin' right at me. I can imagine that's how you gonna look when I'm makin' sweet passionate love to you. Yea, while I'm strokin' you..."

My phone beeps. I look at the number. I don't recognize it and I think.

He doesn't need me for this conversation. Let me click over. He won't even know I'm gone.

He didn't.

I clicked over and there was another guy. By now you know what I'm thinking: What have I done?

"Yolanda, is that you?"

[sigh] "Yes"

"Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"No, I just had a bad experience. That's all"

"What happened?"

" I gave the wrong people my phone number and now I feel slightly violated."

"Oh yea, I've done that myself. You have to be careful who you give your number to on there. I had to find that out the hard way."

Okay I thought He sounds pretty reasonable. I think I might be able to talk to him. Maybe I need to click back over and let the other dude off the phone.

"Could you hold on for a second please?"

"Sure thing" he replied

When I clicked back over, he was still going at it.

"See, the way I do it baby, is I like to turn my lady on the side and..."

"Hey," I said gently.

"...and I like to start off lickin' on..."

"HEY" I said with a little more force

"...and then I gently start to nibble on her..."

"MY GOODNESS MAN HEY!

"What? You gon be rude and cut me off like that?! What's wrong with you? You don't appreciate a good man?! See, that's what's wrong with ya'll black women. That why yo @$$ is on the internet tryin’ at fine a date in na first place..."

I had to hang up because I was sure, no matter what I said, he would never hear me.

I clicked back over to the sensible guy.

"Sorry it took me so long. Then guys just kept going on and on. When I tried to cut in, he cussed me out. I had to disconnect from him."

"I fully understand."

Me and the new guy talked on the phone for about a week. The new guys seemed nice, but I could tell he had a short fuse.

"Get the f@#k out of my way OLD LADY! Man I swear some old people don't need a f@#kn driver's license! D@mmit!...[changing back into the him I knew] sorry baby. I'm working on that."

"Okay"

Out of the twenty I gave my number to, I had more of the first two guys and I wasn't interested not even a little bit. I thought I was good though because this guys, minus the negative tirades, seemed to be a keeper.

Then came the big question:

"So, I'm dyin’ to meet you. When are we going to meet Yolanda?"

I wasn't really ready to meet him. However, I didn't know whether or not I was really ready to meet anyone. I hoped At least this means I could have a date. Maybe then I could get you off of my mind:

Our long conversations and playful bantering. It seemed that I hadn't met anyone I could remotely compare to you. We were so silly together. You disrobed me in a way no one had ever been able to.

I knew the bottom was falling out of what we had, but I held on for one last day with you. One last hour with you. One last waking moment next to you. One last smile. One last laugh. I wanted it to last until it ended and, even though I didn't want it to end, I wanted you to end it. I knew I never could.

Do you remember all of those times I told you:

"I just can't do this anymore. I know this is going to end badly and I am going to be the one hurt. You're going to walk away from me and I'm going to be all alone trying to heal from you spoiling me.

Oh how you spoiled me!

You took such good care of me. You called me everyday to make sure I was okay and that's what I wanted. It was exactly what I needed.



"Hello" He said

[Snapping out of it]

Dang it Yolanda! FOCUS! This guy, this guy!! He wants you to go out with him! Forget about "You-know-who..." he has definitely forgotten about you!

"Oh, sorry...ummmm. When will you be here?" I stated apologetically

"I'll be there Saturday. You weren't listening to anything I said were you? Where is your head today Yolanda?"

"I just have so much on my mind...I'm so sorry. Okay, Saturday...sure" I said hoping this date would obliterate your presence from my thinking.

"Sounds good. I just can't wait to meet you"

"I feel the same way" I said.

Saturday came and I was ready to meet him. Day turned into night and I hadn't received a phone call. I felt a little depressed and just as I was going to call on of the "sex" guys, he finally called me.

"Hi Yolanda, you ready to meet?"

"Yes, where are we meeting" I said with anticipation. Then I started thinking He's gonna take me to a nice restaurant. Wine and dine me...it's gonna be beautiful. I need a break so bad...

"What do you like to eat?"

"I'm a vegetarian. I don't eat meat"

"Wow, I didn't know that. Hmmm"

"Well, there are plenty of places that have veggie dishes. I'll just get something veggie off of the menu. We can go anywhere"

"Go?"

"Uh, yea, we're going out right?"

"No"

"How are we gonna eat if we don't go out?"

"You're gonna come here."

"Where?"

"I got an extended stay suite. I'm cookin' here. I figured I would cook and we could watch a movie here"

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Me and you in a hotel room? Why? Why can't wa go out?"

"You don't trust me?"

"I haven't met you"

"So, let me get this right, we've been talkin' on the phone for two weeks and you don't know me well enough to understand that. I'm not going to do anything to you? That's real messed up Yolanda!"

"Are you serious?! Did you really think I would come to a hotel room with you? I don't even know you!"

"Oh, I see! So, you expect me to take you out to eat and spend money on you and you can't spend no time with me? I don traveled more than an hour to come to Durham so I could see you and you have the nerve to tell ME no?!"

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"Because I don went and bought some wine and spend my f@#kn money on this room to come show you a good time and you ain't even gonna show up!"

"Look at how you're reacting. You're not even trying to think of whether or not this is a good move for me. It's all about you! I can't believe this. I don't know if you are crazy or not..." He interrupts me

"Everybody else knows I'm not crazy d@mmit!"

"Well, I don't!..."[trying to clam myself]

"You the d@mn problem! You the reason why don't got nobody [I'm thinkin' where did all of this hood come from?] It's yo fault. You expect a dude to wine and dine you and you aint givin up nuthn?! Well you ain't gon NEVA fine dat, real talk!"

"Wow!"

"What? You comin' or not?"

"Not! lose my number! BYE!"

CALL ENDED

Another one bites the dust!

Chapter 1: Volume 1

Okay, I must admit. I sat there stunned and weeping after I read the text. I was shocked, dismayed and discouraged. I couldn’t stop thinking about all of our nights that turned to days and all of our outings that turned into nights and then days again.

Who could forget all of the hair I pulled out of your hair bumps. The way you used to brush my hair. How I used to grease your scalp.

The moments we spent together wrestling, laughing and talking. How could you talk for hours and expose the very inner recesses of your soul with someone you never wanted to belong to you, to be your own.

How many times had we lie there is infinite embrace (our bodies were intertwined like an amazingly gorgeous pretzel). Um lovely! All of this flash-backing because of a simple text…well, two. Now, I’m caught in a tale-spin. Trying to hold it all together. My classroom is spinning and I can hardly breathe.

I can’t believe YOU would respond this way to me. Maybe it was her. I mean, all I wrote was: “I know we don’t talk anymore, bt I wnt u 2 no I still consider u my brthr and my frind. I still luv u and I still pray 4 u. I still believe n u. Have a blest week.” I would’ve wrote more, but I was running out of characters.

Was that so wrong? Why wouldn’t it make your heart glad to know that I still think of you. That you are not a passing thought. That you still mean the world to me, even if you chose to be with someone new (or old, or hidden), and I still care about you. Is it okay that thoughts of you still make me excited and that our time together was riddle with happiness and that you helped me find myself and develop a love for me. I don’t understand.

I often think about it. The way me met on MySpace. LMBO! Your e-mail was so convincing as you explained how you were new in the area and didn’t have any friends. Do you remember? You didn’t have any friends here and you thought my profile page was interesting or was it my bio? Well, whatever it was, you had me hooked the moment I read it. I nice man, very articulate, I could tell you were special and loving, so I called you up.

Who would’ve known we’d hit it off? Who would think that I would actually like you? You seemed so helpful, funny and well-put-together. I still believe that about you.

Do you remember when we finally had an opportunity to meet?

There you stood 5’4, just kidding, I think you said you were 5’8, but I could never understand why we literally saw eye-to-eye and I’m only 5’4 ½ (yes, and a HALF). It’s okay though. You had to be the shortest guy I had ever dated, but I didn’;t mind because you had a butt like a coffee table and I was trying, being a Christian and all, not to stare at all of that butt you had. I was thinking OMG! This guys has a whole lot of junk in his trunk! Geeeee-wiz!! I wanted to touch it so bad, but I just couldn’t fondle you on the first date. I mean, what would you have thought of me if I would have rubbed your butt like a genie lamp the first day I met you? I figured it wasn’t a good idea.

You gave me a hug and it felt so good. I didn’t want to let you go and I really wanted to grab your butt. Okay, this is making me laugh, but I really need to stay focused!

When I saw your face, I remembered thinking: Hes not the most handsome guy, but he has the best personality I’ve ever seen on a guy. He’s definitely a keeper! Apparently not for me, yet a keeper indeed. I wanted to keep you. I wish I could’ve kept you. When I think back, I wish you would’ve wanted to keep me.

It seemed like you enjoyed my company, so we went everywhere. Remember? I do:

You pummeled me in bowling, you creamed me in running, you took me around with you and hung with me, even though I was fat and disgusted with myself.

Whenever I said something negative about myself, you would encourage me. You would tell me how much I was worth saying so many times: Yolanda, you are valuable and anyone who doesn’t know that doesn’t deserve you. I thought you meant it. I don’t know if you did now.

So, you encouraged me to lose the weight and I was afraid. I told you I gained the weight so that I would never be attractive enough for a man to want to rape me. I told you that was one of my biggest fears, being raped. Then you said something no man had ever told me: “I just want to be your protector. I just want to make you safe.” NO ONE says that! One of the things I’ve learned in my brief period living is that men, for the most part, do NOT make statements that involve permanence. They may allude to issues surrounding permanence, yet, in all of their doings and interactions with women they are NOT interested in, they do not make promises or put themselves in permanent scenarios with women they don’t want to be permanence with.

It still puzzles me. You never needed anything from me. I had nothing, yet you committed yourself to me and showed me more love than any other man did. You made me smile, inside. And, every time I told you one of my horrific stories: the time I was held against my will, the countless rapes I experienced, the way my husband walked away from me, the things I went through with my baby’s father and how I continued to struggle with his controlling ways, you seemingly couldn’t find anything wrong with me. You followed me. Soon, you became the perfect man for me.

I wanted to tell the whole world about you. I wanted to tell everyone I knew how excited I was to finally meet a man who made my insides smile. Finally, I met someone who made me feel like I was worth more that a good head-job or some wild and crazy sex. You made me feel beautiful, and for the first time, I became a soft, supple, gorgeous woman. You brought me out of my cocoon; then, you left me. What a confusing gesture…you were my best friend and so much more. You wanted to be my protector (so you said), but you left me out here with the wolves and the liars and the have-nots and the want-nothings and the “girl, come and back that thang up,” and the “come and give me some of that pussy”s and the “I don’t want no commitment, but I would tear that a** up!” and the men who only see a single-parent as a good piece of meat. Guys who only want me for one thing or the other, but never for me.

You left me with those guys who think I was created to help them get out of debt and that my success means that I should give back to them because they need a good woman to get a leg-up in life. You left me with them and the memories we shared and your honesty. How could I be angry when I am a much happier and reassured woman because of you. Your admonishments. Your coaxing me and encouraging me. You got me to a point where there was nothing I wouldn’t do for you, yet you never attempted to use me up…you just showed me love and my understanding fails me. I am not intelligent enough to understand why you walked away from me.

I often wonder why I wasn’t good enough for you. When I asked you, you told me “There’s nothing wrong with you and don’t let anyone tell you different. Please don’t let my indecisiveness lead you to believe that you are not a great woman. There’s nothing wrong with you Yolanda.”