Sex is the Easy Part (Pt. 2)
Posted by Antoinette R. Banks | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, July 14, 2011
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When you're dreaming with a broken heart the waking up is the hardest part. Not because of love lost, but because who will be around to deal with you when you cant?
As the only man growing up around women, my thoughts, ideas, and concepts were quickly shoved under the rug. I couldn’t be too emotional about a problem, couldn’t express my concerns, wants, and needs because I had to be a man. My mother had an addiction problem and left me. She’d say she’ll be back, but I wouldn’t see her at times for months. I became very good at charming my way into things. You see...if they can't see the hurt behind the smile, we have a win/win situation. I got used to charming my way into hearts and subsequently, I learned how sex was my greatest asset. I would walk around with my hand out waiting for a woman to help me. Too prideful to ask a brother, cuz a woman always understands. Men make no excuses, women have purses filled with them.
Cece was a good one. She'd give me rides when needed...offer bus tokens from her mothers stash and cooked for me when I asked. Who needs a car when there's always a willing woman? Queta, was drama for me and I lived it, loved it. Her attention made me feel like a king and I loved going to her house, leaving messes on her floor and food to see if she’d bring it to me the next day. Even when she got into a relationship, to hear her say she wished it was I made me walk on cloud 9.
Rina, said she’d always be there for me and didn’t mind if it took me 3 hours on the bus to get to her..she'd given me a child, the least I could do was sex her from time to time. Toni wrote my proposals, cooked for me, took me to rehearsals, and introduced me to everyone I know now--not to mention she let her little girl love me. What I love most is a woman with a child, though. That let’s me know she has to take care of business because if she doesn’t work, her child won’t eat. Let’s me know she isn’t accustomed to handouts and won’t be asking me for any.
Each one of you speaks to my insecurities while I'd create problems that didn't exist to artfully push each one of you away...a woman's heart is my playground.
You see...at the end of the day, there will always be one who gets me. Who will play hard to get until suddenly she gives in. So I charm her. Pull her into my lyrical kingdom, spit bars around her thighs, whisper rhymes between them...blow a lil air up there to hear her moan. Cuz it feeds my ego. I know she love my big ego.
Somewhere between rhyme and reason I should have learned sex is the easy part. And waking up is the hardest part.
(stay tuned for Pt. 3)
