So last night, there was a meeting. Me, my friends, and Larry. And basically things were addressed.

They felt that I didn’t hang out with them on Saturday when they went to eat and stuff, and then I had the nerve to get ready to go out with them. So guess Larry was correct that I didn’t have a right. So I should have stayed my ass home. But yeah, they brought up the fact that at the club, I stayed to myself and didn’t really hang with them. In all honesty, I stayed my ass on the wall despite people trying to dance with me because yes, I was hurt at what he said. Midway in the night I danced a couple dances but wasn’t really feeling the vibe at all. I also left early because I felt I had done enough with my $5. I didn’t tell them I was leaving, because honestly I didn’t want anyone asking me anymore questions and I could tell they felt some kinda way towards me. And they admitted they were mad at me. I didn’t feel that I had gone out with them, even though we got on the same bus together and walked in together.

I had no clue that what we had discussed at our last meeting was told to Larry. Personally, I feel that he didn’t need to know what was discussed. But yeah, so they felt that no change was made since then, that I hadn’t made an effort to spend more time around them. How could I do that when he’s always there? But yeah, so I told them this, in front of him. I also explained to them that I had no clue about their Saturday agenda other than them going to eat. I wasn’t hungry, so why waste a meal? So I guess on that point they left it alone.

So the topic of me and Larry was broached. Lauren felt that I had been holding onto whatever feelings I had about the situation for a long time, and she wasn’t sure why. They basically told him that they’re not sure what me and him discussed, but some closure needed to be had to the situation. He said that the situation was already dealt with. Sandy felt that we were both playing the inbetween and it was just going to hurt someone in the long run. I basically came out and said that maybe he felt he had given closure to the situation, but I didn’t feel that way. Because I clearly said that if we’re still going to be fucking around, then we’re not just friends. I said that from months ago when I asked him what we were. So maybe he thought that by saying we were just friends, that was enough. Or maybe it was when I told him that we both needed to change if we were going to try again. Who knows. But yeah, after I said I didn’t have closure, I also said that there was something else extremely personal that was the reason I had been acting the way I was, and that I didn’t want to discuss it with him the in the room. He jumps up and says ‘I’m out’ like it was something against him because I couldn’t say it when he was in the room.

I was supposed to just lay out my feelings with him there for him to let it go in one ear and out the other? Because I had already told him about the incident that I discussed with my friends later, hoping that he would have a bit of insight as to why I close myself off from people a lot, but I guess he felt he didn’t have enough information about it then to try and comfort me or understand me. But yeah, he and my roommate text each other like mad after he left, but that was nothing new. But he seems to have felt like everyone was saying it was his fault, which no one was at all.

I finally explained to my friends exactly what was going on with me, my thought process, my feelings on Larry, everything got laid out on the table. I can honestly say that they have a lot more insight into me now than they ever had before, and I learned that I really do have friends that are truly, truly, willing to be there for me when I need them to, and that we’ve all gone through/are going through something. We spent a long time talking and honestly? My heart felt so much lighter after that. I know I still have a lot of work to do in regards to me, but at the same time, I know I can only take it one day at a time. They understand moreso why I’ve been having this attachment to Larry and why its been hard for me to just let go.

I don’t know how he feels about me anymore, especially after last night, but I think I’m going to really actively try to start letting go slowly. The situation isn’t always going to be the way you want it to when you have to get over something, so maybe him being around was to force me to see things how they had to be. I don’t think we’ll ever truly be friends. We’re too different, I see that now. I just hope for peaceful co-existence. And likely, he won’t be returning next school year, so I won’t have to see him again after May. I think.

On better news, today I have a bit of free time (just a little) so I’m going to put up some of the new poetry I’ve been working on. And I’m going to add the next part of ‘The Fairytale Ends Here’ because I didn’t get a chance to before. I’m still writing the first part of ‘Illicit Exchanges’, so I likely won’t have much up with that soon.

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The Fairytale Ends Here - Part II

The solitary grandfather clock showed that the time was 3:37 in the afternoon. Victoria Morris looked up from her perch on the windowsill of her bedroom to the car pulling up to the driveway.’Well, well, well, someone’s early,’ she thought, a smile spreading on her face, dimples out.

Walking out of her room, she made her way to the front door to greet her boyfriend, who when she opened the door to, was soaking wet.

“And to think, you only walked 10 feet from your car,” she teased him, as she opened the door wider to let him in.

Marcus managed a small grin as he walked inside, careful not to drip too much on the wood floor as he made his way to the bathroom.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he called out to her, slowly removing his coat and shoes.

“You better have been,” she replied teasingly, closing the door. “Did you go to work today?”

“No, I took the day off, I wasn’t feeling too well this morning.”

Victoria frowned. Something was off. “I called your house this morning, but no one answered.”

Marcus grimaced before answering. “I was probably knocked out from the Tylenol. I woke up at 6, called in, took two and went right back to bed. I woke up about 1.” Adorned in his shorts and a white tee, he made his was to meet her in the hallway.

Victoria hugged him close, subtly smelling him. He smelled like Burberry, his trademark, and rain, but as she held him, a shiver went down her spine. She was worried, maybe just a bit. Marcus never took off work, even when he had a 105-degree temperature. A little headache wasn’t going to stop him.

“There’s some chicken cutlets in the kitchen, and some macaroni and cheese. I made lunch for me and Candice, she should be here any minute now,” she informed him.

Marcus nodded. “I’ll fix me a plate. What’s she coming over for?”

“Just to chat. We don’t see each other much anymore since she got transferred to marketing.” As if to validate her response, the doorbell rang. Letting Marcus head into the kitchen, she made her way to the front door and opened it.

Candice Mary Jones came barreling in, all 5′3, 140 pounds of her, with a Banana Republic bag in tow. “Vic Tea! What you been up to Mama!” she exclaimed, hugging her.

Victoria grinned. “I’m okay, doin’ me, you know how I do. How’d you manage to get to the door without gettin’ wet?”

“How else, I ran! Can’t have your gift gettin’ wet now, can I?” she asked, winking at her best friend. Candice indicated to the bag in her hand. “I’m gonna be out of town for a couple of days, and I’ll be missin’ your birthday, so I figured I’d bring this over before I left.”

“For real? Girl, you didn’t have to, it could have waited until you came back,” Victoria stated, but with a small smile on her face. It was like Candice to do things early.

The sound of running water made Candice look at Victoria, an eyebrow raised in question. “Someone here with you?”

Victoria nodded. “Marcus came by right before you pulled up. He’s in the kitchen eating.”

“Well then, let’s go in there so I can get some grub. Haven’t had your cooking in forever,” Candice stated, making her way through the house. Victoria could only laugh and follow.

Marcus looked up from his plate, fork in hand, to see Candice standing there, watching him amusedly.

“Stuffing your face I see. As if you was still growin’. Damn shame,” she remarked.

He snorted. “I’mma always be growin’, it’s what I do.” Winking at Victoria, he put another spoonful of macaroni to his mouth.

“Too much information Marcus, TMI. You plan on staying here long? I wanna have a girl chat with Vic.”

Marcus looked between the two. “I can always come back later,” he suggested, more to himself than to Victoria.

She nodded, somewhat reluctantly. The question of what was wrong today was still burning in her mind. “We won’t be busy for too long. How ’bout you go home, get your stuff, and come back at 8 to spend the night with me?” ‘That’ll give me plenty of time to run something by Candice first, see what she thinks.‘

“Sounds good to me. Y’all go ahead and talk, I ain’t gon listen. I’ll give you a shout when I’m leaving,” he said, another spoonful on the way to his mouth.

With that, the girls headed for the bedroom.

- - - - - - -

Candice wasn’t stupid. She knew something was up from the looks that Victoria was passing to Marcus. And it wasn’t cool.

Some of Candice’s most memorable times were of attending university with Victoria. It was where they both first met the men that would capture their hearts, where they lost these same men, where they first found out what it was like to really know drama, they went through it all. Meeting people that they knew would influence their lives in drastic measures, there was nothing that could have told them what the future had in store.

They met in college, amidst drama and homework, and even though they had their rough times, it seemed that one couldn’t leave the other. Many friends had passed through the group, but it seemed that only those two made it in the end.

Vic was lucky, Candice thought, as she gazed upon her friend. She had chased down Marcus so hard, then gave him the run around when he decided to be into her. Their first attempt at dating was a complete nightmare. If it wasn’t Vic questioning where he was, it was one of the other girls saying that she better watch out before her man got taken by her. ‘That bitch,’ ran through Candice’s head.

Everyone knew about Marcus and Paris. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t think they were still messing around. No one could possibly be around each other that much without falling back on old habits. And Marcus sure wasn’t ugly.

Candice’s vendetta against Paris went deep. It involved Marcus too, to an extent. To Candice, the reason why she lost the love of her life was because of Paris allowing her best friend to steal him away. And Whitney was smart enough to not let him go, not for anything. Corey walked onto that Cambridge campus that November 2000 and rocked the world of every female that saw him. Rumors were flying about who he was with, why he was there, and who was lined up for him to fuck that very night.

Corey was like his brother Marcus in so many ways it wasn’t even funny. They both had that smile that let you know that they had something good on their mind. The way they both licked their lips, teasing you into wanting to kiss them. It was truly madness when he came on the scene. She went about things wrong, however.

Candice didn’t really think about how she was going to approach him. Instead, she allowed herself to play along with the trickery, letting everyone know that they were already talking, and that the rest of the girls should back off. Whitney, being Paris’ best friend, knew that was all bullshit, and took her time wooing the man. And she did a damn good job of keeping him away from females. Especially Candice.

Candice sighed, trying to rid herself of the image of the smirking man in her head. Sitting at the bottom of the bed, she looked at Victoria.

“You plan on tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?” she asked.

Victoria groaned. “Is it that obvious there’s somethin’ bothering me?” she asked, looking down at her hands.

“For me, yes. What did Marcus do? I’m assuming it’s about him seeing as you kept giving him these looks out there.” ‘He better not be cheating, I swear, I’ll cut his dick off,’ she thought, cutting and taking a bite of her chicken cutlet.

“He didn’t go into work today.”

Candice almost choked. That was impossible.

Swallowing roughly, she cleared her throat. “You gotta be kidding me. That man don’t never leave his job. He might as well move in. Did he tell you why?” Victoria snorted. “The man has never missed a day of work since he started there three years ago. And he really thought I was going to believe that?”

“Obviously he did, or he wouldn’t have said it. Something happened last night. Did you see him last night?”

“No, he didn’t come over. He called me when he was leaving and told me he was heading out with his boys, and that he’d call me today. He didn’t sound suspicious or nothin’ either.” Victoria looked out the window.

Candice opened her mouth to talk, but quickly shut it. It wasn’t her place to have her friend second-guessing Marcus. She did that before and it almost cost them their friendship.

“It’s probably nothing. C’mon, who would he have gone to see?” Candice asked, but she knew the answer.

They both did.

I do apologize to anyone I haven’t spoken to or kept contact with in the past week or so, especially my affiliates.  As for sites to comment on (Despair & Excentrique), I plan on catching up on you ASAP, I just have not physically and mentally been here at all.  I have a very strong case of the flu (including all the muscle pains, headaches, eye soreness, sore throat, and tension that comes with it) and it seems like my body isn’t trying to cooperate and get over it.  I also have a lot of schoolwork on my plate right now, as Friday we go on Spring Break, so professors think it necessary to give me 2 midterms, 2 quizzes, and 2 papers so I stay occupied.

I’m also becoming emotionally stressed again, and I might have to really make an effort to go back to my counselor before I cut myself off from everyone.  Now more than ever I feel like an outsider — but more importantly, I feel like Larry stole my friends away from me.  I no longer have words for him — my heart is numb as hell.  How dare he tell me I basically have no right to go out with my friends to the club because for that day, I didn’t go eat brunch or dinner with them?  Since when is that a effin’ requirement to go to the club with them?  I was so mad I stormed out my room to take a walk.  He just needs to shut the hell up.

I really tried to make an effort to be around my friends more, even going so far as to going to eat with them at this late night thing we have at school (which I really dislike) even when he’s there.  My roommate told me in no uncertain terms that she didn’t want me to make myself uncomfortable, that they’d try and hang out other places so that he wouldn’t always be around me.  He’s STILL always there.  It’s like there’s no peace from the bastard.  I’m dying to go home so I can get some space and find something else to focus on, because with him here, I’m getting nowhere.  If it wasn’t for me bringing him around my friends in the hopes that they’d at least be able to speak with him, and like him, he’d have no fucking where to chill out.  He’d be stuck in that fucking room of him.  Now I wish I had just let it be.  Then I wouldn’t have to feel this overwhelming urge to move out of my room every time he shows up.

I think I might come back in April as cold as a block of ice to everyone.  The people that used to get on my nerves a little bit are hitting it full force and I just wanna choke someone .  I haven’t been getting a chance to do all the things I’ve wanted to because I’m swamped in schoolwork, and I just wanna pull my hair out.

Thanks for reading.

I read a lot of books, and today I found out that Teri Woods is not even the person that wrote one of my favorite books, True to the Game. Turns out she violated a contract with the ghostwriter of it, Caleb Alexander, who actually didn’t want the credit for the book, but 50% of the profits from it. He’s also the author behind the sequels. I had SO much respect for that woman, she was my inspiration (alongside Sister Souljah) for writing and publishing a book. Now I feel like I have to question anyone that writes an urban novel these days.

It’s funny that I found this out today, when I planned on starting a new feature to my blog, but I’m still going to do it anyway. I’m in the process of writing two novels (one which I am paying a bit more attention to, seeing as I’m writing it SO completely out of order, LOL.) I planned to post a part of each of them every week, and get responses from people on what they think of it, if it’s even worth trying to get it published sometime down the line.

I’ll be posting a part every Thursday for ‘The Fairytale Ends Here’, and every Wednesday for ‘Illicit Exchanges’. So for today, I have the beginning of ‘The Fairytale Ends Here’. Hope you enjoy.

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The Fairytale Ends Here - Part I

The lightning flashed against the windows, and the thunder boomed in my ears, but I was in the zone; spaced out, unable to comprehend that my life was never going to be how it was before Marcus. He was gone before the rain started, before the sun shone down this morning, back off to whoever and whatever he did the nights he wasn’t with me.I knew I wasn’t his girl. We didn’t need each other that way, or so we said. I gave him the best sex he ever had, and he gave me the sex I wanted from him alone. We knew each other’s lives, moving in the same circles, but we didn’t intrude and we played as if there was nothing more between us than a past fling. It was a simple arrangement, business even, made six months ago.Six long months.He told me last night it was over.Such an unyielding word, over. So absolute, so complete, so final.

I heard the key in the door downstairs, but I couldn’t move myself to care. I knew who it was; only one other person had the key to this place, and it sure wasn’t Spongebob Squarepants.

The other reason for my head and heart aches. Spectacular Sanders.

He’s got a body to die for, looks that would make a woman fall out, and yet, I can’t even manage to make love to the man who has loved me since I was 11. Faithful to me for 12 years, I had the nerve to marry him over this Christmas, and I can’t bear to have him touch me.

I must be a fool.

His footsteps echoed into the living room. I heard the keys fall on the dining room table, his jacket fall to the couch, his shoes hit the hardwood floor as he took them off, and the soft padding as he made his way down the hall to our bedroom.

The bedroom I made love to another man in 12 hours ago.

He crawls into the bed next to me, and I can smell his cologne as he attempts to hold me close. For once in a long time, I let him.

He inhales me, my scent, mixed with that of another, but it doesn’t register with him, because I always smell like that. Like Marcus. It comforts me, helps me see more clearly.

Or it did.

His smooth voice rushes into my ear. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s filled with all the questions he has, questions he’s always had but never asks, because it’s so like him not to.

What do I tell him? ‘Spec, I’m in love with another man, a man I’ve been involved with for the past six months intimately.’ Of course not, I’d be an idiot. So I say the one thing I can manage to get out.

“Nothing.”

It’s gasped out, so full of raw emotion that it would be impossible for him to not know I was lying. But, as we seem to play this game a lot, I mouth the answer he’ll reply as he says it.

“Whatever you say.” He lets me go. The words are nonchalant, but I know if I turn around and look into his eyes, they’ll show me a world of difference. So I don’t. I want to love him, I truly do. But it’s like Marcus has voodoo on me, no matter what I do, I seem to always come back to him. It’s never been a problem.

She is now the problem in this equation.

I won’t even mention her name, but I’m letting you know, I know it’s her. They started dating this winter, and since she’s come around, he ain’t been right.

And that woman is crazy.

She thinks she’s so cute, because she looks latina, and has a big ass. Please, I’m black, I got more ass than you on a good day, and he still ain’t where I want him. And that shit gets to me more than ever.

What the fuck does that man want? Beyonce?

I look over my shoulder to see if my charming husband is there, but he’s gone. Probably off to the bathroom to run the shower and wash away his sorrows. I would say he thinks I’m a frigid bitch, but I know better. This man knows me better than anyone ever will.

Maybe that’s why I married him.

Eh, still not a good enough reason.