Boundries of Love

Boundaries of Love

I just started dating this guy, he’s so special. He’s sweet and tells me that I’m beautiful all the time. And trust he knows how to put it down, real well. Like I have been with a few guys in the past (hope that doesn’t make me sound like a slut or anything), but he gets me started in ways I could never imagine.

I’m in high school and he’s in the grade above mine. I’ve always had a thing for older guys. Don’t know what it is about them, but they seem more experienced than these little boys who been chasing my pussy. As hard as they try I won’t give their asses the time of day.

Boys will say anything and EVERYTHING at times just to get in a girl’s pants. I heard them all from, “baby, I can break you off,” to, “damn, girl, I just wanna lick you all up and fuck you till you can’t walk no mo.” Nigga’s are really funny because I bet their dick game is wack. I don’t listen to them though; trust this pussy is on reserve for the niggas who are worth it. You know the kind that you see and you can’t help but lick your lips and just imagine that you taste them. That’s how I feel about this guy I’m dating now. Every time we kiss, I get a rush up my spine, and every time he touches me I just want to fuck him so much.

Other bitches always be checking him out, but I dare a bitch try and take him from me. He knows what he has and he knows that this is probably the best pussy he’s ever had. Those other lame nigga’s before him know what they’re missing. I swear just a few days ago I got a call from one of my exes and he was all talking about, “oh, baby I miss you I want you back.” The nigga should’ve treated me better instead of ignoring the shit out of me.

My new guy didn’t ignore me at all and he was pretty good at managing what kind of time he spent with me. That’s what I liked about this one, and he wasn’t too emotional. Some nigga’s get too emotional about things like: who I chill with, what dudes I been calling or talking to, what I’m wearing, and what I’m doing. They need to chill on that, because if I’m with you then I’m with you. They don’t have to worry about me cheating. Even though I have broken up with dudes to get with another one, but that’s a secret between us. But some nigga’s are too sensitive and take things too far. I remember my ex, Lamar, he was cool in the beginning, but then he got real mad when I didn’t talk to him EVERY night. Now, if we had only started dating I could let that slide, but I was dating this dude for a few months and he knew what my situation was.

“Yo, what the fuck, why didn’t you call me last nite?” He would say.

“Nigga, you already know the deal, I couldn’t get my mom’s phone last night she was working late.” I’d tell him.

“Naw, you chillin’ wit some otha nigga aren’t you!”

“Boy, you best calm all dat shit down, real quick.”

“Bitch, you best not be cheatin’ on me!”

“Trust, you aint gotta worry bout me cheatin on ya ass no mo cuz we done!”

Nobody calls me a bitch and gets away with it. That’s like a female’s self-destruct button, and I try and warn guys about that as soon as we start talking. But they’re liars, all of them, because they say the same thing, “don’t worry, I’d never call you that.” It’s like they went to a school and had the same dumb ass teacher. That shit can only work but so many times before a girl wises up and doesn’t believe the guy.

I learned from a young age that I couldn’t trust too many people in my life, compliments of my dad. He used to beat the hell out my mom, like she had stolen something. I was younger, least about 8 years old when I first saw what my dad was capable of. He wasn’t even drunk, I just think the love had left there relationship. He would constantly say that it was her fault that he couldn’t do shit with his life, truth be told that shit was his own damn fault.

My dad wasn’t the smartest person in the world, any job he had he would get fired from, he had anger management problems, and when someone did give him a chance he would, normally, fuck that chance up.

I don’t like him and I never see him, after he left, but it’s not like I’ve tried to make an attempt to reach out to him, because I haven’t. When you witness the two people you love the most, fighting and hurting each other at a young age that shit fucks you up. I was only a little girl standing at my door, which would normally be cracked open, tears running down my face as I saw his fist hit my moms face. I couldn’t say anything, what could I do I was only a child?

After my dad left it was only my mother and I, and she would treat me like a princess. She worked like a Hebrew slave to pay for our apartment and buy me nice things. She would take me to get my hair and nails done, my clothes were normally new and if not she would get them at a good bargain. My accessories made other bitches jealous. But I never realized why she did it all for me, she could’ve quit one of her jobs so she could have time to rest. I was always stumped by her actions and I was even bold enough to ask why.

“Mom, I don’t want you workin’ so hard. You don’t have to do all this for me.” I said.

“Monica, baby, let me tell you. No one in this world will ever make you as happy as ya mamma does. No man, no friend, no body. You’ll come to realize at the end of the day when every one is gone, your mamma is there for you. And I want to do this for you, Monica because I want you to know that ya mamma loves you.”

I loved my mom, but sometimes I didn’t always agree with what she told me. Because one day I would get married, and that man will love me till the end of time. I wouldn’t let how my parents marriage ended dictate how mine was going to go. And with any luck the guy I was dating now was going to be the one for me.

I never based how I felt about someone over the sex game they had. Its simple some guys are better than other’s and some guys are bigger than others. Size never mattered – actually let me take that back if home boy was like a tooth pick then he wouldn’t last long with me. I’d probably give him a month, just to be nice. But I’ve seen them all to the short and wide to the long and skinny, to the nigga’s who could rock my world to the minute men. And believe when I say I never fucked NO body without a condom. That’s just some old stupid shit.

There were so many girls at my school who had to drop out because they were pregnant. What could have gone through their minds when they were fucking their nigga? Did they think that the nigga would be man enough to actually stay with them to take care of the child? Did they think that somehow everything was going to be alright and they were going to get married and live happily ever after? These bitches need to wake up this isn’t fairy tale hour, when you get pregnant you have that child for life—well, unless you get an abortion (which most family’s were too poor to afford) or put the child up for adoption. Even so, you have to walk around nine months with a swollen stomach, and afterwards you more than likely will lose your figure. Truthfully, I don’t want to see myself with stretch marks all over my stomach and I don’t want to be in the emergency room and my baby’s father isn’t there. That’s stupid shit if you ask me.

Children are supposed to be made out of love, not out of you loving a nigga so much that you let him bust in you, or believing him when he says he can pull out, nope pre-cum can get you pregnant to. Guess I was the only one listening in the Human Life class. Well, maybe one day they’ll learn. Besides my mamma always taught me if you going to do something grown folks do then you got to be ready to accept the responsibilities that comes along with it. Which is why, I got on birth control as soon as I could so I could see what the big deal about sex was, and much to my surprise I was impressed.

My first time wasn’t anything special. From all the talk I heard, the first time is supposed to be magnificent. Well I must’ve heard the wrong shit because my first was with a nigga who had trouble getting it up and when he did, he couldn’t keep it up. I was only 13 when I lost it, I know that’s kind of young but fuck it, I did. And he was an older guy, he was 17 and with all the game the nigga talked he was wack as hell. But luckily for me after a while it got better, I mean the next guy I ended up fucking. The first guy only got this pussy once; I guess he should feel somewhat accomplished since he took my V-card from me. But the next guy he’s the one who turned me out. My God, I was sweating, losing breath, I was sore the next couple days, I was bleeding down there, and it felt as if he was the one to take my virginity. He and I dated for a while and the sex never dulled. But, unfortunately, he moved away so I was out a boyfriend and great sex. But guys come a dime a dozen.

My current boyfriend is everything and more. He’s a light skinned guy and I never thought I be attracted to that, with me being dark skinned and believe I make this skin look good. But what really drew me in about him were his eyes. He had such pretty eyes, his eye lashes were long and the brown in his eyes made me melt. I could go on for days about his eyes, they were just that damn sexy. And, naturally I have my own features that he’s attracted to. Something I got is an ass, he always tell me I got an ass for days, and I won’t lie I got me a phatty. Nigga’s always try to hop up on it, but this is only for one nigga and one nigga only.

He’s amazing, he’s always doing things for me, my mom seems to like him, and he makes me feel beautiful, more than any other guy before him. But him and I are only dating, which sort of sucks, and I can only hope that he ask me for something more committed. I’ve never found someone like him, he’s always considerate of me, he doesn’t always be getting on me about calling him. I even do things for him that I’ve never done with a guy before; I think I may love him. We’ve only been dating a couple of months, but I know I never felt this way about a guy before. He’s the only guy I’ve given head to, and the only guy I’ve let fuck me raw (I was still on birth control), I may have loved him but I didn’t love him to enough to have his child – yet.

I remember how he and I met, we were in the same class, and luckily it was one that sophomores and juniors could take together. He and I worked on a project together and we decided to work at my place, since his family had issues on who he was staying with. No one was home at my place and while we were working he slid his hand over mine, and when he did my skin was covered in goose bumps.

“Monica, you’ve been on my mind a lot. I can’t stop lookin’ at you in class my mind gets real distracted when I don’t get ta see ya. You is real beautiful and I can’t help but look in dem pretty eyes.” He said with my hand in his.

“I don’t know what to say…” I said in a shy voice. If I was white I would’ve been blushing like mad.

“Don’t say anything’”

He leaned in and kissed my lips. That kiss was so amazing that I could feel my heart pumping really fast. He didn’t try anything else – as much as I had wanted him to. But he was a complete gentleman. But that kiss meant so much and a few days later him and I were dating, we didn’t have any official titles or anything. But when he could he would see me and vice versa.

We would see each other in school and it kept on killing me seeing other bitches talking to him, because I wanted him to be all mine. And when I want something, I let a bitch know that it’s off limits.

“Hey, daddy, how you doin?” One of the girls would ask.

“Shit, you know, chillin’ tryin’ to get through another day.” He’d say.

“Well das wats up, but get at me later, call me.” She took a piece of paper out and wrote something on it and slid it in his pocket.

That bitch clearly didn’t know who she was fucking with. So it was up to me to show my man why I was the baddest bitch he ever had and the last one he would ever want. So I decided to confront the bitch after school.

“Hey, Jessica” I called out to her.

“Oh, hey, Monica, what’s good girl?” She said.

“Nothin’ but eh you kno dat dude you was talkin to earlier?”

“Oh, him, yeah mmhmm I jus wanna eat dat boy up.”

“Yeah, no, stay da fuck away from my man, we clear?”

“I think das for him to decide.”

“Bitch, I don’t think you wanna take it there.”

It was about to be a real bitch fight. I saw her taking her earrings off and I got mine off to. I was ready to pull this bitch’s hair out. I didn’t give a fuck if she had nails, or those other nasty ass coochie bitches behind her. She got to know that some shit just won’t fly and when you talk side ways to me shit gets real, in a hurry.

The bitch tried swinging at me, but I ducked and I grabbed the bitch by the hair and pulled her to the ground. Despite my short size I could fuck a bitch up and I didn’t care bout height or strength. If I wanted that shit done it would get done.

We weren’t fighting for too long before the teachers came out and stopped us. The end result was, she had to get a new weave and I had to get my nails redone, but I think I got my point across. This shit can’t keep on going on, I know what I need and hopefully he wants the same thing.

I never liked asking a guy for commitment, because then it made me sound needy. But I couldn’t stand other bitches talking to him, with the chance that he may find someone more interesting than me. Wow, this doesn’t sound like me at all, I normally don’t fall for a guy this hard, but it’s hard not to. I am truly in love with this guy, and I want him to know that I do care about him.

Our phone conversations were never boring. And sometimes I think he enjoyed them a little more than I did, but we both came to a meeting ground, eventually. I know what he liked to talk about and what he’d like to hear. My boy is so nasty, in a good way that is. Like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear whenever we talked. But I didn’t want to give him too much to go on, I needed something to keep the passion alive in the relationship, or lack there of. I had made the decision that I was going to ask him tomorrow what the deal was with him and me. Though I didn’t want it to sound like I was desperate, at the same time I didn’t want to be outdone or outshined (that really sounds like I have low self-esteem don’t it?)

The next day at school I had seen him, damn he looked so good. I was so happy to have him the way that I did, but I wanted more. My heart wanted him to know that I was ready for the next step. So when I saw him I wrapped my arms around him and dug my face into his chest – that about how far I came up on him, right under his pecks. He put his strong arms around me – side note: he smelt so damn good. Anytime I had pressed my nose to him, when we were in close quarters like this, he always smelled like cologne. His arms cradled me like a newborn and I felt safe with him. It was amazing because there had never been a time when the comfort level was this strong before. I didn’t want to let him go, but I had to ask him something, hopefully this wouldn’t end the relationship.

“Baby, are we ever gonna move past this whole datin’ as friends thing?” I asked him.

I didn’t know how he was going to react. His heartbeat started to increase, had I done something wrong? Damn it, I really hope I didn’t fuck this up.

“Sure, girl, you can be mine.” He said with that sexy smile on his face.

“Oh thank you, baby.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him the biggest kiss ever.

I was going to make sure that anything was open to him now. I finally had him and I was so happy. Everything and anything he wanted to do – sexually that is, he could do and I wouldn’t have a problem. Besides, as a future wife I have to learn how to please my man. He won’t ever want anyone else after me, and I’m going to make sure of that. Ah, I love him so much.

I liked to be kinky with him, especially when we were on the phone. Because there were those times when I wanted it, but he wasn’t there and it was late at night and they only way I could have him was through phone sex. Now, don’t knock the whole idea of it, because if you know how to do it right, then it could work wonders. And I could tell he enjoyed it to, shit what guy wouldn’t enjoy his girl talking dirty to him. He always wanted to know what I was wearing and I would tell him. Normally, it would range from just a big tee-shirt or just my bra and panties, either way it turned him on. Not to mention he enjoyed hearing what I wanted to do to him, God it was such a rush and it made my heart race like crazy.

“Oh, really now? Trust, girl, if you’s talkin’ like dat den you only lookin’ fo trouble den.” He would tell me.

“Yeah boy, I’m tryin to make you experience things you aint neva had befo.’” I’d say in a voice of seduction.

“Well, when you plannin’ on doin all dis’?”

“Next time I see you, sexy.”

Life was good and I couldn’t imagine it without him now. He held my heart and I didn’t want any other nigga to have it. It belonged to him and only him, I can’t believed I ever imagined the other guys I slept with would even compare to him. It wasn’t even because it was a new relationship that I was feeling him so much, but there was something about him. He knew all the right things to say, all the right places to touch, and the right things to do. Like he couldn’t fuck up, even if he had wanted to, it would be impossible. Perfection, is there any such thing as it? A lot would probably say no and I would agree, but in this case I think I found someone who surpasses all of that.

As months passed, things started to get a bit harder for us. We began to argue more about stupid shit, we didn’t talk as much, and he refused to hold my hand in school. I felt like I was becoming what other guys were to me, an annoyance. That’s where most of our arguments would stem off of. But not all of it was always my fault. What the fuck was going through this nigga’s mind, after everything we have done together. Shit, he better treat me like he got some God damn sense. But things just didn’t seem right anymore. It sounds bad and I truly don’t want to believe it, I still feel that he is the one for me. But does he feel the same?

Night after night, we would go either without talking or we would be arguing, damn I never wanted to argue, but the nigga kept saying sideways shit to me like, “girl you know you aint nothin’ without me” like what would posses him to say that. I wasn’t going to let him just say it and act like it was cool. I may have loved him, but I knew when to let shit slide and when to get into his ass. But sometimes I thought to myself, what’s even the point in arguing, it’s tiring and takes away a lot of energy.

I tried to ask my mom what to do, but her advice was always the same, “listen to your heart” well my heart always told me to stick it through for the person you loved. And he was the person I loved and I didn’t want anyone else. I couldn’t just up and leave, like my father did. I’m not a quitter and plus – my feelings were too deep rooted just to go away, it would hurt too much.

I wanted to let him know how I was feeling about everything lately, but I haven’t been able to get him on his cell phone. It always went straight to voice mail; I guess it’s just dead. Though something in me told me that he cut his phone off, but why? Was it to avoid me? No, he wouldn’t do that to me, would he? I pushed the thought out my head, this nigga needed to know a few things so we can re-evaluate and re-build our relationship so he and I can be happy, again.

I finally had gotten him on the line, but things weren’t like how I planned them at all. He kept yelling at me, so I would yell back. Then it turned into the blaming game and he didn’t even seem to care about how I was feeling. I know this nigga can hear me, so he better stop acting like he can’t.

“Nigga, do you know who da fuck I am?” I asked him.

“Yo, I don’t feel like hearin dis shit, right now, iight?” he said.

“No, nigga you gon hear me da fuck out. I got a lot of shit dat I need to tell you, iight.” I felt like I was finally going to get my point across. “One, why da fuck do you cut ya phone off, knowin damn well I’m tryin to talk to you. Two, you need ta stop talkin’ sideways to me, cuz dat shit don’t fly wit me. Three, nigga you best respect me, if you want respect back.”

“Girl, get dat shit outta my ear, you aint always gotta know my reason fo doin shit. If I wanna keep my fuckin phone off, Ima keep the shit off so get da fuck up off my dick girl, shit. Actually you know what da shit aint workin’ no mo Mon Mon I’m done wit ya clingy ass.”

Those words broke me to a point where I didn’t know how to react. All my anger just swirled around in me, but I didn’t know how to let it out. I just wanted to hit him and hurt him, because of everything he meant to me, but this nigga is going to fuck up like this, oh hell no.

“What you mean you don’t wanna be wit me no mo, nigga!” I yelled.

“Naw, ya ass is getting’ too clingy, I need my space.”

“Da fuck you mean clingy! Nigga, I givin you dat kind of pussy dat no otha bitch could give.”

“Hahaha, yeah right, hoe, I been getting it in wit otha bitches and they was all betta den you.”

“Fuck you, nigga! Wit ya triflin ass! Yo dick wasn’t even dat good anyways.”

“Wateva, bitch. If dat were da case you wouldn’t have kept fuckin’ me.”

My heart broke and my vision went black when I hung up the phone. Everything that I had dreamed had suddenly shattered. Everything that I had wanted, from the family, to the home, to the perfect marriage had been shattered. He had cheated on me, and not just with one bitch, but with a whole bunch of bitches. Oh, God I let that nigga fuck me with no condom. What if one of those bitches had a disease, how would I tell my mom?

She would be disappointed in me, but why would he do that to me. Didn’t I give him everything he wanted? I let him do whatever, whenever he wanted to fuck, I would fuck, whenever he wanted head, I would do it. Why am I so fucking stupid, to think nigga’s would actually change?

I threw the phone to the ground and I got under my covers and cradled myself in a fetal position. I didn’t bawl my eyes out, but I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks. I felt a pain in my spine, and a knot was in my heart. Memories of me and him kept flashing through my head, from our first kiss to the first time we had sex.

I didn’t even want to lay in my bed anymore, because of all the times we had sex in it. I was so pissed off, I couldn’t sleep and that’s how it was until the morning. I hadn’t moved out of the position that I was in. My mom came knocking at the door, but I didn’t answer. Even when she called to me I didn’t answer, so she came in and sat on my bed. My body stayed where it was and didn’t move an inch. She placed her hand on my shoulder and as she did I could feel goose bumps on my body. It was like the room was frigid and a wave of cold made my body shiver, though it wasn’t cold at all.

My mother didn’t have to say anything she already knew I wasn’t going to school today. I guess she had just come up with her own conclusion, but I wouldn’t put it past her if she got it right. She eventually left for work. I didn’t feel like doing anything, but lay there. And whatever I did do consisted of only thinking of him and wishing it didn’t end like that. I wasn’t hungry, though my stomach growled, and I wasn’t tired, though my eyes were heavy. But I wanted to write.

I finally got out of my bed, though I walked like a zombie and grabbed a pencil and piece of paper. I went out my room and sat at the kitchen table and started writing a letter to him.

“I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t know if it was because of me. Was it because I didn’t love you enough? I thought I did. This is more than likely my fault and I don’t blame you for doing this. I love you and I always will, through life and death. I thought about you all last night, after our fight. I couldn’t sleep because I kept on thinking of our good times. They made me smile, because I never wanted to give them up. I loved making you smile, I loved loving you, and I loved giving my body to you. I loved believing that mine was the only body you were making love to. I cried last night, for the first time in a long time. I never thought I’d cry over a guy, but you aren’t just a guy, you were perfect. You’ll never know how much I love you, and that’s all I wanted was to love you forever. I wanted to get married, have children and live happily ever after. That made me smile some, any thought of you makes me smile. Maybe one day when were in heaven you and I can be together and we can finally have our eternity…I love you…goodbye.”

I place the pencil down on top of the paper and walked into the kitchen. I looked around and I could see everything. The stove, the fridge, the cupboards, the medicine cabinet, but I couldn’t choose where I wanted to go. I decided to go to one of the drawers the held the forks, spoons and knives. Opening it I saw a long and sharp knife lying on top of the utensils. I grabbed it and walked back over to the table and sat down.

My eyes started to leak again, but I don’t know why. Picking up the knife I ran it across my wrist. The pain was immense, but I didn’t flinch any I couldn’t even feel it. So I ran it across my other wrist. The blood poured out and I had finally broken down as my head hit the table and my tears flowed as freely as my blood.

My name is Kristen, and I went to go visit my cousin, Monica. Her mom came and got me, figured that I could help her with her break up. But much to our surprise it was too late. We had witnessed her at the kitchen table with two bloody wrists, and her head laying flat on top of a letter. The Doctors said that Monica had lost too much blood and that she had been dead for a couple of hours. My cousin never did anything to hurt anyone, so why would this guy do her like that. After I read the letter I learned how ‘in love’ my cousin truly was. If only he knew, but I’m going to get his ass for doing this to her.