is you crazy?

the month of february is hard. Brian was gone for all the month. First it was the superbowl in arizona, then the probowl in hawaii, and last was the all star game in new orleans. I was being a good girl i guess. i found a sideline cutie to hang out with.

he came home on monday. i was soo super excited to see him. i have been talking to him on the phone for three weeks. i had to work on monday and had school and work on tuesday. wednesday was when i saw him.

SIDEBAR I AM LISTENING TO THE NEW RAHEEM DEVAUGHN AND THIS SHIT IS SERIOUS PLEASE SUPPORT HIM AND GET IT!

i came over and when i got there he basically pulled me upstairs, where he gave me a big hug and kiss. he also he gave me flowers and a bag full of goodies. i didnt even get a chance to look through the bag good before he was on the back of my neck kissing it and making me all hot.

Long story short we all know what happened. I got up and put on one of his tshirts and some shorts. no panties though i needed to wash anyway so i gathered what little clothes i had over there and put them in a pile. i stopped and i did a quick scan of the room and it was a mess. i cant stand to be in someone elses mess, i had to clean. he got in the shower. i went over to his bag and start to sort through the clothes. i remember he left with nothing and came back with luggage and a gang of clothes. as i am separating washables from dry cleaning clothes. i made a discovery.

Panties. yes everybody panties. Fucking panties. Is this nigga crazy? black Size 6 La Perla thongs.

Whose are these? I am not a 6. I paused. fuck that i was frozen maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. I put my head down. Jesus Christ. i didnt know what to say. i sat there on the floor in silence. i heard the shower turn off. i think my heart was skipping beats. he came in the room with a towel wrapped around him and sat on the bed. oh you washing clothes? Thank you baby...he was putting on sweat pants and a tank top. I am going downstairs you want something? I just stared at him. Brian?....huh?....what are these?.....he came closer and grabbed the panties.....Panties...true whose are they?....what? WHOSE ARE THEY?.....they gotta be yours. NIGGA THESE AINT MINE, THEY WERE IN YOUR BAG. At this point i am livid because i know for a fact these are not mine. I was giving him a look that was deadly. He looked shocked.

who did you fuck?...what? WHO DID YOU FUCK WHILE YOU WERE OUT OF TOWN?... What?..... WHO DID YOU FUCK?.... what? i didnt fuck nobody?... that made me laugh. i am holding fucking exhibit a and he says nobody? babe...i am serious i didnt fuck nobody... how dumb do you think i am? i am holding the panties!!!! he started to come closer to me. i said DONT. i moved by the bed. WHO DID YOU FUCK? I didnt fuck nobody!!! he started to yell at me. i was shaking my head. I was in disbelief. i didnt want to fight. i just wanted him to tell me the truth. WHO DID YOU FUCK ?.... HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU I DIDNT FUCK NOBODY! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU! LISTEN!

oh he crazy as hell. i was mad though. we were having a staredown like in the wild west. i stood there and folded my arms. where did you fuck her? hawaii? new orleans? you probably couldnt wait that long so it was phoenix huh? you are nasty. you are nasty as hell brian. ewww. YOU ARE SO NASTY! I was in the process of telling him how nasty he was when he walked up to me and got in my face and started screaming at me. he was saying something about how he didnt do anything blah, blah and he grabbed me and is shaking me. he was shaking me so hard i was afraid my wig was gonna fall off. he pushed me on the bed. i was shocked. he is abusing me. i got up and ran to the steps and ran. i got to the door and started to open it and got there before i could get out and closed it shut. i am screaming at the top of my lungs for him to move. its like everything went quiet. i was scared. i have been abused and now i am being held hostage! we were having a battle i am trying to open the door and he is keeping it closed. no matter what i am not going to win. he says to me in the calmest most rapist attacker voice "you not getting out so might as well just stop." he was right. i let go of the door knob and put my head against the door. he puts his hand on me and i screamed no. he walks away and sit on the couch. i turned around and stood against the door. I wasnt going to win.

I went and sat on the couch. He went to the fridge and poored himself a shot. I was sitting there with my arms folded. I learned in one of the classes for my major that this meant you werent receptive to communication and i wasnt. how can you explain panties?

He sat next to me and looked at me. what the fuck is he looking at me for? He makes me sick. He didnt sat a word. this nigga better start explaining some shit quickly. He sat there in silence. silence is the quickest way to make me upset. I got up and then he says where the fuck are you going? What? sit your ass down! Something is wrong with this nigga. I knew I shouldnt have been fucking him on the rego. (regular) I gave him a look of disgust and turned around. he yells out my name. WHAT!!! I yell. What the fuck is wrong with you? What? Nigga you the one with panties in your bag. Why cant you believeme when i say that i dont know where they came from? WHAT! You know where they came from. either Arizona, New Orleans, or Hawaii.

Yeah you right. I know. SO since you dont believe that i didnt fuck anybody imma act like a nigga that does that shit. okay so check this out. my boy is having a party in vegas and im going. i was gonna kick it with you but fuck that imma be out fucking bitches.

I said okay. I walked upstairs to the bedroom. I got in the bed and pulled the covers over my head. i was mad but not really. i expect this. he was a football player for god sakes! I heard come up the stairs but he didnt come in the room. he went to the other bedroom and closed the door. this was the first time we had ever slept apart. ever

juice on one shoulder, vodka on the other

i am trying to do right. i swear i am. but the truth is i am unhappy. i feel like i am faced with the decision of a lifetime. i am having a quarter life crisis.

whats this about?

i was a stripper for a long time. three years. thats like six years in real life. i feel like i am older than i should be. being a stripper in a lot of ways has ruined my life. i have no respect for money. men, etc. it has fostered an addiction to alcohol that i cant get rid of.

so now that i have been out of the industry for at least six months now and have been getting money from what people in the industry call " a real job" i am dying. i was dying in the industry and i am dying outside of it. the real deal is that part of me wants to go back. for the money. i am used to having thousands of dollars. i was a classified thousanaire. i could spend money and not think about it.

i have to wait for a check every week. a check that i feel isnt worth shit. it isnt what i used to make on a stage set. hell half a stage set. i feel like i have to do to much worth for way too little money. if i didnt have money saved up. i would be dead. not dead but hungry, clothesless, carless and all the above. stripping did a lot of good things for me. i meant people that i am still friends with and maintained a higher standard of living. it did more harm than good. by the time i quit i wasnt making any money. i hated myself. i cried everyday. i stopped getting naked and stop going on stage. i was drunk every single day. i know that if i hadnt of stopped when i did i would be on drugs by now. yeah like coke and pills.

i feel like because i chose to be a stripper that i am paying for it now. this maybe the reason i feel like i am broke. i have money dont get me wrong but i am not comfortable. i am so scared to death to put myself back in that situation. i am so afraid of making the wrong decision. i feel in my heart that i am not strong enough to handle the industry again. its abusive. it breaks you down and it dosent care about you. i need the money though. i am so scattered about this that i cant even think sometimes. i have to do something. my standard of living has grossly depreciated and i have to do something fast

brian dosent know that i danced and he never will. he would flip. he is here but i wont allow myself to be dependent on him. i will never be dependent on anyone else but me ever again. when you are dependent you are controlled. i want to do things by myself. i dont want to live that life. i meet people outside the club and i lied to them about what i did for money. its embarassing. i have to lie on job apps because for awhile thats all i did.

i am scared. i dont want it to be the death of me. its like being a recovering alcoholic at you are at a party and having to choose between juice and vodka. chosing juice you are still having fun, but the vodka turns it up a notch. if i chose the vodka it will make me forget all my problems at least for a little while.