The best advice I ever got was from my husband's mistress. Funny we convince ourselves that all we REALLY have to do is "get a nigga to marry us" and the rest is HIS job. It is perfectly fine to adapt that way of thinking, as long as you don't mind him missing a dinner every now and then, because he's busy fuc---, excuse me, I mean, having "meetings" with his "business partner". The reality is, nothing makes more sense than the old quote, "What you won't do, the next bitch will". It's that simple. So the choice is yours, step your shit up or you might as well call the bitch from his "job" and tell her she can come pick his punk ass up! Real Shit! He's on his way out anyway. Probably while you're in your room, on the phone, crying to your 300lb best friend about how you can't lose the baby fat from your fourth grade son. Bitch, replace the donut with your man's dick, if you plan on keeping him.
I'll never forget the night the bitch called me. It was our one year anniversary and we were just coming in from dinner with friends. I had a suite booked for us that evening, but because of an "unexpected business crisis", he had to drop me off at home so he could once again, "save his business".
Just as he left out of the door, the phone rang. Was it coincidence that the call came in at this particular time? The voice on the other end was poised, confident, yet still laced with empathy.... Or maybe it was pity. "Hello," I said. The words she spoke after, pierced me to my core.
"Before you hang up, you can allow your pride to continue to consume your logic, or you can humble yourself, listen to some real advice, and make this the last anniversary you spend talking to your husband's mistress on the phone."
"I'm listening," I mumbled. I got up and closed the door, unsure of what I had just said, but had no desire to take it back or hang up the phone.
For the next hour, I listened defenseless, at the details surrounding the relationship my husband shared for the last year, with a woman who effortlessly shared her heart and soul with the man I TOOK VOWS WITH. She spoke of the many nights they spent dancing, talking, making love until the wee hours of the morning, while I sat at home convincing myself that he was out working to provide for our family.
At that moment, any confidence I had left was stripped. I felt my defenses go up as I rudely asked her, "What kind of a woman does this shit?".
She replied with, "The kind of woman YOU need to start being to your husband if you plan on keeping him. Listen baby girl, a man LOVES a confident woman. Makes his dick hard without you having to place one hand on the shit. A woman who KNOWS what she wants and goes after it. Men don't want a needy bitch. And frankly, that's who you've become to him. Which is why he's on his way here now. You NEED him to be the man... I WANT him for the man he is. The thing is, once you start taking care of you, he'll follow. Don't get me wrong, cooking, cleaning, and keeping an organized house, are ALL great. But they don't mean shit if you ain't bending over on those clean counter tops and letting him hit that shit from the back sometimes. Because to keep it real, I don't know one nigga who's out with his homeboys talking about how clean his mutha fuckin' house is. Did you know he loved freshly squeezed lemonade? But any ordinary lemon wouldn't do. He prefers carefully selected lemons from Trader Joe's. Every Saturday morning, I would make a special trip to get his lemons. Something you wouldn't dare do because, "it's out of your way". Which is why he now "works" on Sundays...... Putting in overtime at my house. While he's drinking his lemonade alongside a home cooked meal complete with me as dessert. Do you know last Sunday I actually watched tears fall from his eyes as he told me that he couldn't imagine "pussy so good"? Don't be mistaken, it's not the way I stroke his dick that has him "working late", "working out", "forgetting things at the store", etc... It's the way I stroke his ego as a whole. He's a man. And I make him feel every bit of that every chance I get. But the reality is, I'm not cut out to be number 2. And when he finally made the decision to make me number 1, it was his ability to walk so easily from his family, that lessened my desire for him. So tonight will be our final night together. And as an anniversary gift to you both, I'll gracefully return him to you. But I couldn't do so without enlightening you first. It's up to you if you take heed to the advice you've been given. But in my opinion, it is imperative that you do. He's a good man, just not for me. "
It was then that I heard her doorbell ring. Before hanging up, she ended the conversation with these six words, "Don't worry. I won't fuck him."
I called it a night knowing I'd be up early the next morning, driving across town, to Trader Joe's.
***** Although my pieces are completely fictional, they are inspired by life's realities. They are meant solely for the reader's enjoyment. So if you find yourself offended by anything that is read, feel free to delete your name from my friends' list. I'm a big girl, I can take it :-) **********