I am the poster girl for the girls that become a heaux.
Grew up in poverty, woman of color, single parent household, almost absent father and the list goes on and on. I’m also the epitome of the kind of girl that stalks or gets attached to men. The kind that has constantly been so hurt, instead of becoming stone cold (like many girls claim to be) we hang on with hope, thinking that every guy we meet (next) is the one. Or we give them chances that they don’t deserve, put them on pedestals they don’t belong on and give them the benefit of the doubt; all because we are so desperate for love.
I never knew I was desperate for love until this last incident. I haven’t been truly loved by a man in well over a decade. Everyone that has come by has just been someone in for what he can get, then he’s out. All of them, for the past ten plus years, short lived. Moments of love but nothing ever lasting.
I wondered all week, what was it about this non-descript, (as one of my friends put it) that made me so angry, so hurt, in so much pain that I felt suicidal? And tonight after the strangest turn of events it became clear. Well it became clear this weekend with a situation that took place that I could only save for a major book deal. [Because by then, it won’t matter if some people put two and two together and figure out who is writing this blog.]
I am lonely. I have been lonely for quite some time. Here was this man that I practically ignored for a year, who popped up in a surprising way. Coming out to an event I was going to be at, and then we clicked, if even in the most slightest of ways. And then he spoke well. If anyone knows me they know I like it when a man knows how to speak. He was tall, dark and handsome. Had a job, had a similar arts interest like I did–though we never got a chance to explore that. He seemed to have good family values, we had good conversation and so on and so forth. But that shouldn’t have been enough to make me think that 1. He was worthy of being in my home. and 2. That I thought he was anything more than a piece of shit.
I hate to use profanity, but what else is there to call a man who leaves a woman at 8am when he doesn’t have to be at work until 4pm the next day, then he never calls her back, now 14 days later? After she has left voice mails and text messages, you never call her back. It took my weekend event to get clarity and realize what happened. I played out the scenario over and over again in my head. This man left me to go be with another woman. We slept together twice, never having sex. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to have sex with him, it was because he wasn’t aggressive towards this sexually submissive woman. And it’s funny because the day he left here, I called a friend and told her that he was going to have to have sex with me soon because I was drifting. He beat me to the punch.
And it’s weak. When men decide that they cannot deal with a woman because she is not having sex with them, it’s weak. Your persona is weak and so is your character. You lack patience and class. And clearly you too are desperate. Desperate to be inside this portal to another universe.
What is it about men that make so many of them believe they are entitled to a woman’s body. This one in particular is most comical as he didn’t even try hard. We never went out on a date, and as he laid naked next to me he never pushed his hard cock onto my ass. He didn’t grab and rub all over me. He didn’t kiss my neck, he did nothing. I guess he was laying there waiting for me to make the move.
Reasons like this is why I work. Things like this make me feel cheap. And worthless. I question my beauty, my actions, my thoughts and everything I have done to make him (a man) leave. It plagues my self-esteem and it just fucks with me! It fucks with us! When you disappear on a woman like that, it messes with us!
My clients respect me. We have a clear understanding of how our relationship works. Money goes in hand, he leaves, he never has to come back. Chances are he will, at least twice in my experience, but if he doesn’t, I’m not hurt. You know why? Because I’m a whore and I get paid to be one. I selectively allow clients to step into my chambers, but for some reason I didn’t selectively choose this man.
Here I was singing this man praises. Amazing that he has slept with me and never tried to screw me and blah blah blah. Only for him to only have one motive with me. Never with an intention to give me a chance. I wanted to have a mature, honest relationship with him. I asked him what he wanted and got no answer. I wanted to know what he was looking for. I wanted to know if he used condoms during sex, if he liked to spit, if he liked anal. Who else he may have been sleeping with, tell him about my preferences and so on and so on. But we never got to that. He just assumed I had no intentions on giving him the goods and left. Left me in the bed and ran off to go be with someone else. Every time I think about that, it blows my mind.
I have felt cheap for the last time. No other man, unless he has proven himself worthy or is a client, will step foot inside my door again. Here I am such a good heaux, and I cause myself to get hurt by arbitrary men who are broken and so hurt, and so weak that they don’t even know how to take the initiative.
The turn of events has lead me in the arms of someone who I had not been with in over ten years. Someone whom if you knew the story and when the friends that know the history hear about this, I may be set on fire. I wonder if the universe was playing a sick trick on me. He was engaged twice in the past ten years. I have never had one sustainable relationship in that time as well. Could it be that this is why? Somehow we are both single at the same time and lonely? This man has welcomed me with open arms. We had incredible sex tonight. He was a step away from telling me he loved me. And me? I’m not really trying to accept this faith. I’m lonely but this is a cry out showing desperation. This person is all wrong for a multitude of reasons. And I wish I could share it all with you.
But for now, we all need to have some more responsible relationships and cherish each other a little more. Cherish ourselves more. If we did, we wouldn’t treat each other like shit.
I have been so emotionally sick these past two weeks I haven’t worked. It’s time to get back to work and do what I do best. The bills and landlord cares not of my broken heart.