She sat at the table surrounded by her novels, a poster board of her hand on her face, red blouse, black suit jacket, her bright eyes twinkle and her braids cascaded down her back. The woman who wrote Akeem’s Chronicles was here and like a school boy my palms where sweaty, I put on my best shirt and slacks; I went to the barber shop and got a haircut and shave. I was meeting my favorite author and it didn’t help that she was stunning, every curve accentuated in the blue dress, she pulls her hair behind her ear and Ms. Pamela Leaks aka The Pencil Goddess. The streets where full of people attending the Art Festival, the crowd waiting outside the Smoothie bar was growing all waiting to get their book signed. I read interviews, her blogs and her struggles to make it to the place of success as an author.
I walk up with her book in my hand; I straighten my tie and put on my best smile. She was standing by the chair; she hung her head and never looks her customer in the eye. Two women dress in identical sun dresses, sandals and weave that touched their butt. I over hear them as they gossip about Pamela.
"Damn she fat.” The other woman chuckled.
“While her ass was writing she was eating the cookies, the cake, the ice cream, pies and pudding.” She laughs so hard tears start to fall. There disrespect was bothering me. I wanted to say something but I kept my cool. The other female chimed in,
"Hot ass mess to be that fat. She knows she don’t have a man that's why her books are so damn good. I ain’t gone front Akeem’s Chronicles is the book of the year." The woman swings her weave around, pulls her dress out of her butt and puts her finger to her mouth. I scrunch up my nose and shake my head.
"Girl, I bet if she lost a hundred pounds dudes would be all over her. Look at the definition of her cheekbones, those beautiful bedroom eyes, beautiful complexion and her skin is flawless. Like I said she too damn pretty to be that damn fat." She patted her weave and digging in her scalp plucking the flakes in my direction. I turn to her and say,
“They have a shampoo for that dandruff in your weave.” The female begins to laugh out loud while the flaky scalp chick rolls her eyes sucks her teeth,
Pamela heard her and she tilted her head down and never looked up. The way she pulled her hair behind her ear, licked her lips and her eyes twinkle. To me she was the type of woman I could lay in between her thighs, while she rubbed my scalp reading novels together. Every so often lifting my head up to kiss her lips, play in her and remind her why she is the one for me. I could see me being so madly in love with her. Her weight was perfect; her smile makes me want to stare at her face all day long. Her intellect and the way she writes makes me want to stop at the jeweler and buy her an engagement ring.
I extend my hand and she gently places hers in mine. No wedding ring. Yes. She is available. I adjust my glasses and she has these eyes that seem to be begging a man to make love to her in a hundred ways. She clicks the pen and begins writing a message. I love her handwriting and then she speaks her voice soft, sweet and innocent like a child.
"Thank you for purchasing my book. May I have your name, please? She puts the pen in her hand and opens the book.
"Your future husband, Raheem and the man who plans to make you happy for the rest of your life."
She lifts her head up and raises her eyebrow. The two women behind me suck their teeth and roll their eyes.
"Excuse me." She put the pen near her lips and shifts in her seat.
"Make it out to your future husband Raheem Singleton. That is what your last name will be."
She shook her head and inscribed the words.
"You don't have to make me feel better because someone called me fat. I've been called worst I'm use to it."
I lean down, lift her chin up with my finger.
"You are beautiful and it never has waist size. Isn't that what you wrote? I'll be waiting to love you."
She hands me the book and smiles.
I hate doing public appearances and if it wasn't for the love of writing I wouldn’t. The women who were talking about me is standing in front of me, the perfect size, nails, make-up and I have nothing on them . I fake a smile and sign her book sincerely too pretty to be that damn fat Author Pamela Leaks. She storms off and said to her friend,
“Well it is true she too damn fat."
The gentleman with the glasses is looking like an African American version of Clark Kent, he must work out every day the way his muscles are bulging out of his shirt. He keeps staring at me. He had the nerve to try and charm me talking about being my future husband. He is checking for me no man is really thinking about me so let me not fool myself My sister Nya who is dressed in a leopard cat suit, thigh high boots and a short Cesar haircut. The men gawk at her as her breast bounce up and down. They want women like my sister and the women who look perfect. I look again and he is still staring at me. He winks his eye and I turn my head.
"You sold all your books, sis! So why aren't you smiling?" She folds her arms and taps her foot.
"I'm happy. Those two women never mind."
She pulls off her earrings like she always does when it is time to protect me . Nya has always been the overprotective big sister. The one who would be beat people up for teasing me about my weight.
"Not here you won't Ms. Turn up and besides I’m use to it." I hold her back and she rubs her ears.
"Woosah. You know I have no problem beating a broad down for you." She cracks her knuckles, moves her neck side to side. She glares at the women as they hustle out of the smoothie shop.
She folds up the table and I pack away my banner, the tiny trinkets of gifts and the business card. I look at the big billboard of me and I took up majority of the picture. I wish I was Nya size a perfect size 10. They would accept me more, so the world wouldn't keep saying that I am too pretty to be fat. I reach to pull the big screen of Akeem's Chronicles down, trip over the chair and it falls on top of me. I slip on the pop that spills on the floor and bam I am on my behind. Everyone in the smoothie shop looks at me and covers their mouth. Nya runs to my rescue and Raheem extends his hand.
“I got it but thank you." I struggle to get on my own, my behind is wet and I can't catch my balance and manage to fall again. I hear snickers and loud laughter. He still takes my hand and I stand.
"Are you okay?" He hands me a napkin and pulls me up. I take the napkin and wipe the back of my butt off. He rolls up the picture, stuffs it in the tube.
"Nya, don't ask me to do another event. I'm serious." I suck my teeth, my face is flush red and every finger is pointing at me laughing. I hold back my tears because Clark Kent wannabe is staring at me.
" I'm not like you pretty and perfect every time I do one I come back a face full of tears, eating Swiss rolls and ice cream for the next three days ."
I look in the mirror and butt looks as if I had urinated on myself. He removes his jacket and through his dress shirt you can see his muscles, his bald head, and his five o'clock shadow and thick lips. He's built like a quarterback and he reads how sexy. He reads my books at that but I go back to thought no man wants. I go over the email list to see if he has left his information and it is his address, telephone number, and email. I read over it and shrug my shoulders.
"Pam, you staring at that fine man and he staring at you I see a love story brewing. He act like he has a crush on you.” She nudges me in the waist and I smirk
"Nobody has a crush on me. Please believe me he isn’t checking for this blubber woman."
She puts her hand on her hips and sucks her teeth.
“I hate when you do that down play yourself because you are curvaceous. You are fucking beautiful and you are not blubber. Stop doing that, please." She kisses my cheek and I lower my head. It is easy for her to say she is perfect.
I walk past him and he stops me. My sister looks at him and then me.
"Your sister is right you know." He adjusts his glasses, runs his tongue across his lips and he leans forward.
"Right about what and why are you ear hustling on our conversation?"
“I am checking for you and I think you are sexy. You are fucking beautiful and when it is concerning my future wife." He touches my hand and I pull it away.
"You are not checking for me and for the record. I am not rich. I don't live in some fancy house. I am struggling author so stop it, okay."
"That was rude, Pam."
“I know game and I've been played too many times. It is easy for some dude to genuinely like you. Your gorgeous, you’re exotic and usually when a man says he likes you it isn't for some gain." She throws her hand up in my face.
"I'm not having that discussion with you today. You sold out all your books, a handsome dude complimented you and you throwing a pity party. Stop it right now and you keep talking that negative mess I am going to bop you in the eye."
She kisses me on the cheek and wipes the thin stream of tears beginning to fall.
"Thank you for your help today and I am sorry.”
"Come out with me and the girls and celebrate the evening."
I am always the token fat friend, sitting eating potato skins, hot wings and drinking endless pop while they mix and mingle with handsome men. I
“I’ll pass but thanks, sis."
"Pam, please all you do is write and...." I finish the sentence.
"No, I was going to say stay home. There is more to life than writing. You have to get out and live. Stop hiding in your house behind the laptop. You don’t give yourself enough credit."
"I just want to go home , change out of these wet clothes and get to the next round of edits.
It was more to life than writing but in my crazy, fantasy world it was it? Writing was just as comforting as food. I could create a world not full of prejudice, pain and someone who loves fat girls.
I open the door and I plop the bag on the couch. My neighbors are blasting their music as usual and my cat, Alex is on the window sill resting. I check my cell phone and no messages. I hit the key on my computer my email notifications pop up. I scroll through the list of junk mail until the name Raheem Singleton pops up. The subject line reads, for your information. I click it open and it begins,
"For your information Ms. Pamela I want to get to know you. I don't want your money I am a professor at the University of Buffalo I teach economics. Secondly, I don't appreciate you talking down about yourself in my presence. I would like to take you out to dinner is that possible?
The moment I sent off the email a thousand regrets shot through my stomach. I pull off my tie, unbutton my shirt and slide off my slacks. I look at the screen of my I Pad and no reply. It bothers me more than ever to see a woman talking down about herself. Here it is an intelligent woman who has written a hell of a novel and can't see her worth. Society has painted such a false picture of what beauty is. What love is and many of us men have got suckered into it. I can admit I am at fault for it.
The truth is I have always been attracted to plus size women. When I would share this with friends they had a fat joke. They had a depiction that as a man I have fallen off or that I had a fetish. I've dated women of all kind but I knew when I was thirteen years old a curvaceous woman was who I was sexually attracted to.
The phone rings and I pick up on the first ring.
"Cuz, what happening?"
“I just came back from a book signing. "
“Oh yeah the chick who wrote Akeem's Chronicles I read that book it was damn good and plus you know."
“I know what."
"She's a thick'um and you always have been chubby chaser, Rah." He laughs.
James standard of women was thin in the waist, pretty in the face and carrying a huge butt and breasts. He had a love for women especially the drama causing type that raise hell and yet he was always talking about him being with a plus size woman.
“I think she is beautiful and there is nothing wrong with a plus size woman."
“I never said that but I mean some of them just look nasty. The author she is pretty and I have seen her around she don't look that bad. I just think being that big is a sin."
"Have you found it in the bible?"
"No, but anything over two hundred pounds is sheer ugly. I mean there is no excuse to be fat."
"Like there is no excuse for you to have five baby mothers and none of them you are married to. Right according to society you are no good a dead beat who doesn't know how to settle down and wear a condom. Yet, I know that you are employed, love and care for your children."
"Rah, it is your preference of what you like. If you were to get with her I could see why. She is beautiful. She has a beautiful brown complexion, a pretty smile, high cheek bones and those bedroom eyes. So you get her number."
"She blew me off."
"I emailed her but I haven't gotten a reply back."
"She must have a man."
I look at my email and her name pops up on the screen.
"Cuz, I'll call you later."
I open it and it read,
Dear future husband (l.o.l),
I apologize for being rude. I am just an ordinary woman who writes. I don't know about dinner and thank you for the nice review. It made my day. Thank you
I fall back on the bed and go over emails from students, faculty and all I can see is her pretty face. I can still feel her hand in mine. I meet the perfect woman and she shoes me away like a fly. I look at the phone it is Veronica and I hit ignore. I do something I rarely do and that is log on to my Face book account. I stroll through the notifications and friend request. Some I accept and the others I ignore. I read through some of the notifications. I decide to lurk on Pamela’s page. I scroll through the pictures every one of them highlighting her career, her family and her signature smile. I send her a friend request and thirty seconds later she accepts.
She writes on my wall.
Future husband stop stalking my page. L.O.L
I crack a smile and type.
Future wife please allow me to take you to dinner. Are you scared you might have a good time? I add a touch of a smiley face blowing a kiss. I feel butterflies in my stomach and my heartbeat quicken.
No, I am not don't be putting me on blast on the book.
Immediately an instant message pops up.
I'll go to dinner since you are so persistent and because I want to pick your brain.
She wants to pick my brain and I want to kiss her lips.
Tonight, Pano's at 7pm.
"Only if you promise to enjoy yourself."
The dim lights, soft music, the streets of Elmwood filled with pedestrians thanking God it's Friday, sitting around local restaurants and bars. The air is cool for a summer night and lovers holding hands passing by. I don't see her standing anywhere. I go on Facebook and she is not active. Twenty minutes, two beers and a major attitude that she has stood me up I send her a message,
"That is rude you could have at least told me you weren't showing up."
To make the night worse who walks in the door nobody but Veronica and her crew. She is in a black and white dress, make-up flawless, and a Michael Kor's purse dangling from her arm. Perfect body, pretty face and a she- devil who wears Prada. She and I had sex one time and from that moment I knew I'd never link up with her again. Her whole demeanor disgusts me.
"Is that how we are doing things now? No call backs, no texts return so you and I have an intimate moment and you bounce. No one skips out on me ever." She puts her pointy fingers nails with silver glitter in my forehead. I grit my teeth and reply,
"You kind of left it as I was one of your tricks as told by your friends." I take back a sip of my beer check my page to see if Ms. Pam replies.
"No, I left the ball in your court to bounce back and I never called you a trick. I don't chase men I'm too fine for that." She looks over at her friends and laughing.
“I’m waiting for someone and we both come to the conclusion what we did was sex and nothing else. Let's keep it that way and enjoy your evening."
I turn my back and drink my beer. I hear her heels pound against the floor. I look at my watch, suck my teeth. I click on the message and she still hasn't answered. I storm out and Veronica stops me.
“So I am Thot to you?
“Let’s not be childish and make a scene, Veronica. No one has called you out of your name and made you feel irrelevant. We consented to a one time stand and the end result was is we are not a perfect fit and let us be grateful I had the wonderful experience with you. God bless and prosper."
I kiss her forehead and here comes strike three of the night standing in front of Veronica and I is Pam. She spends around on her heels and is walking down the street. I follow her and call her name she refuses to stop. I jump into my car and speed down the street I honk my horn and she gets in the back seat of a truck. I follow the truck because I need to explain and I cut off by the number twenty-six bus. It was a wrap as they turn the corner.
"What's wrong, sis?" I tap my finger on the door and I mumble.
Why was I not surprise that my instincts about him where right on point. He was the type of man I attracted the players, the liars, the thugs, the worst men on earth. I lean on the glass, the sky is cloudy small drops of rain hit the window. The woman he kissed on the forehead look like a model and here I am thinking he had a inkling of being attracted to me.
"Can you stop at Joe's Barbecue pit?"
"Yeah. Are you okay?" I shrug my shoulders and give her the typical answer she is looking for.
"You know me just hungry and lonely the story of my life."
She pulls up and I wobble out. I look in the rear view mirror and the reflection of me is disgusting. My stomach protruded out, my arms look like two pork shoulders where stuffed in them. Yet, I step in and order a rack of ribs, potato salad, Mac and cheese, collard greens, cornbread and banana pudding. It seems as if everyone in the restaurant is staring at me, that in their mind they think she is too pretty to be fat.I grab the food, get back in and my sister doesn't move the car.
" Baby sis, what is going on?
I wipe the tear from the corner of my eye. It is the same story that Nya can't relate to. Everybody in Buffalo wants her, she is perfect and me I inherit the fat gene . I had to be the one who blows up like a pig.
" I'm okay, really. I forgot the pop and the Swiss rolls. "
"You're lying like on some real shit talk to me."
" Nya you don't get it and you never have to."
"Here we go again?" She throws her hands up in the air.
"Here we go again, what?" I snap at her..
"You and these fucking pity parties. You let your weight stop your life. It isn't preventing you from having a life you are." She yells.
" It is so easy for you to say. Look at you a different man buying you whatever you want. Perfect body, nice clothes that fit you and everyone likes being around you it has always been that way since I was a kid. You don't have a clue how I feel." I shout back.
"You don't like your body stop eating racks of ribs and buckets of Mac and cheese. Get out and have fun, be the author of your life because you keep telling the same damn story and you refuse to rewrite it over. You mad at yourself not me. If you are so damn uncomfortable in your skin stop complaining and go to the gym. You are too pretty to be that fat." She covers her mouth, I pull the handle and I jump out of the car.
"Say no more I see how you feel about me. I won't bother you no more."
“ Pam, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, sis. You make me so mad beating up on yourself.”
I walk off down the streets a bag of greasy ribs, I am breathing hard, sweat begins to pour off of me as well as the rain. Stupid Raheem, my sister and the world fuck them. Fuck the world, soaking wet, choked up over the words my sister said, the women said and I keep thinking my life sucks.
I hear the horn beeping and a baritone voice calling my name. I spin around and it is Raheem, he pulls beside me. I attempt to wipe my face and suck up my pity party.
"Hey, stop walking let me give you a ride home?"
"Thank you that won't be necessary." I try to walk faster but my thighs are rubbing togeth
"It's pouring out here and you are soaking wet. Come on and let me get you home safely. "
The lighting crackle through the sky, the thunder loud boom made jump and I nodded my head. He reaches in his trunk and grab a blanket. He wrapped it around me and he takes my bag. I get in the passenger's side and he gets in. He removes his t shirt and it shows his muscles.
"Thank you I hope me being in your truck doesn't make your girlfriend mad." I don’t have permission to be jealous of anyone. He is not my man and I wish I could take back the words I said.
He cocks his head to the side and pushes his glasses off his nose.
“If you are referring to Veronica than no she isn’t my girlfriend.”
"But you kissed her?"
"On her forehead and she was someone I had an intimate moment with in my past. Let me ask you a question why are you walking in the rain?"
I twist my earring, the sound of the windshield wipers scraping the window and the scent of his cologne and the food is intoxicating. I shift in my seat.
"My sister and I had an argument?"
"Petty stuff, life and me."
He pulls up in front of my house and he steps out. The rain has stop, the sun is coming out and the birds are chirping. He opens the door and extends his hand.
"Come on Mrs. Singleton." He flashes a smile and I am wondering why that name rings so sweet in my ears.I take his hand and step down.
“I guess you want to come upstairs and talk?"
"I'd love too with your permission."
I shake my head yes and we walk in to my building. Straight to the back, the loud music of salsa, the sound of children thumping and he looks inside. My laptop is open, the dining room table covered in my edits for my next novel. My cute but dainty apartment for one is decorated in my favorite colors blue and silver.
“I was going to stand you up but then I thought of the thousands of times it has happen to me. So I came out." I walk to the kitchen and grab two plates.
“I know this sounds desperate right now but do you mind eating dinner with me?" I turn away from him so if he rejects me he won't see my face full of tears. He turns me around and sits at the table.
“I love to and that is not desperation it is a beautiful inviting a man to eat.”
I prepare his plate and forget to ask if he likes ribs.
“Do you like ribs?”
“I love ribs."
I put the food in the microwave and I look through the list of questions. He is study all the awards I've receive for writing. He looks on the wall reading my poetry. Other folks paint pictures and put it on the wall. I write and place my favorite poetry as a symbolism of who I am.
“I’m in awe of your writing. What powerful poetry damn you write so eloquently. So pick my brains?"
I bring the food and place it on the table. I observe him and he is gorgeous. He is the type of man a woman dreams of.
"Why do men like you hate fat women? Who told you that we are not human and don't deserve love? What gives y'all the right to rip us apart and make fun of us?"
At the last word I am crying. I run into the bathroom.
I am banging on the door and she won't answer. I feel her pain. Each time she sobs it hurts my heart. I continue knocking and I hear her announce,
“ Just go this is not a good time.”
"Let me answer the question come out and look at me. She steps out and she dabs her eyes with the wash cloth. I pull her into my arms and hold her. I feel every ounce of her pain. She lifts up and separates herself from me. She sits in the chair, nibbles on her fingers and twists her lips.
"I had a really bad day first the women, my sister and then it just all came crashing down.”
I take a deep breath and pull the chair close to her and sit. I take the tissue from her hand and wipe her face.
"Not all men dislike plus size women and some of us know they deserve love and those who make jokes or rip women apart are assholes." She sniffles and she looks at me.
"Tell me one man who likes plus size women?"
I smile and adjust my glasses.
“I love plus size women. I like you. You are gorgeous and you have a pretty face."
She sucks her teeth.
"But a bloated body, right or if I go to gym.? I hear that all the time. If I wasn't so fat I'd be a bad bitch. If I had a better body I'd be sexy." She throws her hands up in the air and closes her eyes.
“You didn't let me finish and don't ever desire to be a bad bitch. You don't walk on all fours and bark like a dog. Secondly, your body is beautiful and I think no, I know you are trying to live up to image of your sister. I don't know you but I overheard your conversation. Pam, you have to like and accept yourself."
"People say that all that time but we live in a society full of prejudice, standards of beauty and love. I don't fit not one of them, I don’t have the look or the right this or that. Turn on your T.V and show me a story center around the big , black woman and show her in positive light. None."
I sit back in my seat and cross my legs.
“You can change that and I am not talking about your weight. To me you are fine and that is the God’s honest truth but if your weight makes you unhappy then change it. You are a writer and you can change that you have the power of the pen.”
"They'd never hire me or read a spec or listen. You know how hard it is to get my books out."
"Are you making excuses or do you want to do it? You vented you want the world to see what I see. Then make history, stop crying and complaining and do something about it as so order by your future husband."
She takes a deep breath and runs her hand across her head.
"You're right. I'm scared that I will die alone and I have not a damn clue why I am telling you this but it is true. I don't want to believe it but so many of my plus size friends are just settling for a man just so they won't be lonely. It doesn't matter if he cheats, or never comes home or calls them name. I just don't want a man for the sake of it. It is so hard for me and people to see pass my weight and see my talent. To see my heart that they get it twisted. I guess maybe I am caught up in the issue ."
I hold her hand and kiss it . Two complete strangers and I know that I was meant to be here .
"I think that issue is standard for women of all shapes and sizes in the black community. I have that insecurity."
She turns her lip and raises her eyebrow.
"Don't play me at all. You are handsome, muscular and ....."
I cut her off.
"A nerd that doesn't fit the role of a thug, pimp, player, athlete or a rapper I am man who loves to read, go to Shakespeare plays, art exhibits and every other white woman thinks I want them. It is not just women and so many have the misconception. I don't want to sleep with every other woman nor do I want a skinny woman. You immediately assumed I have females all around me. We all are prejudice and we believe what society teaches us."
"Yeah, you got me on that but I want to eat."
I hold my head and pray it is a bad dream that I didn't sleep with Veronica. I peek behind me and mumble, "damn."
I throw the cover on top of her. She smiles and bites her bottom lip.
"Hey a good morning would be nice."
I put on my underwear, my T-shirt and jump into my jeans. I am going to strangle James. I pick up my glasses and put them on.
She bounces around and chuckles.
"Blame it on the alcohol and you where turned up. I started kissing you and you kept calling me Pamela."
"Shit, stay away from me. I have a woman."
I drive home, shower and I kept thinking about her finding out and hurting her.
What am I doing after that day with my mini breakdown and spending it with Raheem? I've been seeing him on the weekends. Today is Shakespeare in the park. I look outside it is sunny, the sky is blue and I am listening to India Aire. I guess you can say that I am in like. I just finish my first movie script and my book sales of Akeem's Chronicles are off the roof. I am number one on Amazon best seller’s list for ten weeks. Raheem has been a constant in my life and I cannot believe how he makes me feel. I wish I could share this experience with Nya but I am not speaking to her. She has called but I push the ignore button.I haven't spoke to Nya and I see her drive pass and honk her horn. I miss her and our talks. I hear a knock on the door and Raheem is standing in khaki shorts, a white t shirt and a big smile.
"Hey you." He kisses my lips and I melting like butter on a summer day.
"You look gorgeous and your husband to be is ready to spend the entire day with his wifey."
I wore khaki capris, a cute peach top and peach sandals.
"You better stop saying that unless you are producing the ring."
"Soon come I promise."
I am in awe of how good he treats me. The way he holds my hand in public, the way he kisses me and introduces me to his friends and colleagues. The romantic walks in Niagara Falls. The fact he has not missed a book signing or an event. I shouldn't be shock but I am. He and I haven't made love yet. I am afraid I may turn him off with my body
"I wanted to switch up and instead of going to Shakespeare in the park! I wanted to take-you somewhere romantic. I couldn't hold back, in the car is your bags pack, a wonderful two day weekend in the Toronto. There is a nice Jazz festival , theatre in the park and I just want enjoy you." I squeal and wrap my arms around him and he kisses my neck.
"Thank you so much. This has got be a dream."
"Let's hit the road pretty Mama. "
If he is gearing me up to break my heart I can't see it. During the ride his cell goes and a woman voice comes over the speaker.
"Hey ,babe." She sings and he instantly puts in his ear piece. I fold my arms and look at the scenery. Yet, her voice is over the loud speaker.
"I told you Veronica you and I are done. I'm involved with some one else."
"Oh, so I'm just good for having sex with but not your precious time. Did you tell her about three nights ago ? You know drinks at your cousin, you and me naked having sex. Did you mention it or nah?”
He looks over at me, my mouth hung open and my heart sinks to my feet. I swear I fall for the wrong type. Wait this isn't the first time a man has done this. It isn't the first time I am in this position but today will be last.
"It didn't happen that way and you know it. "
"Did you sleep with her, Raheem? I am a big girl literally band figuratively. I can handle it. I am expert in this department of heart break. Did she come over to rekindle old memories, you start kissing and bam your all in her pussy? Or my favorite it was just oral. Just tell me."
He lowers his eyes and his voice was soft.
"Baby, I am sorry. I mess up."
I held in my tears, I looked out the window and lean my head back. Love was not for me.
"I know and it will happen again because no matter how pretty I am. When you look at my fat body you will never be attracted to me sexually. We are here and I will get a separate room. I don't ever want to speak to you again."
"It is not like that at all. I was drunk hanging with some friends and she happens to be there with her friends. I fell out in my cousin room. She started performing oral sex and I told her to get my off me. Nothing else happen."
I clap my hands and say,
"Great lie and I heard every one of them. Enjoy the concert."
"I don't want her I want you." He takes off his glasses and he has taken it the extra mile to let some tear drop out of his eyes. I walk into the hotel ask for a room and give my name. The woman covers her mouth and jumps up and down. I look around and shake my head.
“You wrote Akeem's Chronicles your book is amazing. It bought me to tears, made me feel his pain and I heard they want to option it as a movie."
"Could you autograph my copy and my boss?" I sign both copies and take a few pictures with them. I felt like a celebrity they gave me a suite, sent up a gift basket and a dozen roses
I sat in my room, pull out my laptop and several messages where from Raheem. I deleted each one of them. I order room service and I was going to drown myself in fried foods, cake , ice cream and I was going to put my pain into another novel.
I lie on the bed and look into the sky, my heart is pounding, tears are falling and I hear a knock on the door.
"Room service." I open the door and Raheem is standing next to the bell boy. He hands him a fifty dollar bill and pushes the tray in.
"Go, be with Veronica and hang out with her . Why would you set my heart up for failure, huh?"
I plop on the bed and he sits next to me. He touches my hand and I pull it away. I don't need false apologies.
"It always happens I meet an amazing man and some beautiful, pretty, thin chick comes and knocks me out of the running. I thought you really like me and you truly saw me as your future wife. Sucks the hell to be me. It is my fault because I am fat. Just go Raheem."
"No, I am not going. You shouldn't and I won't allow you to blame yourself for my foolish mistake. I should have never went to that party and I should have told you went it happenlook at me."
I turn my head and he moves closer to me.
"I made you cry and that was never my intentions. I just wanted to be the reason you smile. I don't want her and I know you don't believe me but it is true. I didn't have sex with you yet because I didn't want you to think it was all I was about. "
“You didn’t have sex with me because I am fat. I’m not even sassy or funny or like the other big women. I am boring and disgusting. I get it and thank you for at least trying to like me.”
He removes his glasses and he shouts,
“Why do you keep doing that to yourself, huh? Why won’t you see what I see in you? You are afraid that to love yourself. Here it is God is blessing you and you spit in his face. You beat up what he created and for the record I like you because you are not like other women. You are yourself and that is rare in this day and age. You are rare diamond and you just refuse to unleash your sparkle.”
"Just go Raheem I am confused, hurt, lost and I need to write."
He held his head down and stood. He walked slowly to the door. I removed the silver cover , the food looks delectable. Raheem opens the door and he announces,
"If I could fix your pain I cause I would do anything in my power. Would you at least go with me to the concert? You don't have to answer right now."
“I don't know."
Here I am in a gorgeous suite with high ceilings, a sixty inch flat screen, crystal chandeliers, personal living room with a view of the city. I take a bite of fry and my stupid mind is on Raheem. I read the emails and two more producer offer to turn my novel into a movie. My career was taking off but my personal life was at zero fifty. I open the bottleof Tylenol's Pm, pour it on the table and I look into the mirror. Every roll, dimple, my protruding stomach, my stretch marks and I could hear the names.
You are too pretty to be fat.
You don't look like Nya that why no man wants you.
Mcfat Nasty. Ms.Piggy.
I scream and fall to the floor. I take the pills, and swallow them. I count the men who hurt me. I count the times I was lonely. I count the grief, the times I am stood up and it is weighing my eyes close. I feel dizzy, my mouth dry, my stomach hurts and I try to catch my breath. I am so sleepy.
I open and close my eyes. I hear my name being called and I don't want to feel my pain. I don't want to be alone maybe in heaven I can find love.
She is lying next to me. The rain is pouring, the lighting hits the tree and thunder hits the tree. She is alive thank you Jesus. She cracks open her eyes. I trace her angelic face and I kiss her lips.
"Don't you ever do that again."
She turns around and get out of the bed. She stumbles and I catch her.
"You will never understand no one will. It hurts to much and I don't know how to fix it. To make people love me and to never leave me."
She hangs her head.
"I'm here and I am by your side. I want to care for you. I want to love you. Allow me."
"I didn't try to kill myself because of you. I did it because I am so unhappy. I want my own love story."
I pull her close, kiss her forehead, and put her fingers into mine.
"Let me the author our love story. "
Why me Mr.Raheem?"
"Why not you? Why is it hella hard for you to believe I am attracted to you?"
She took the tips of her fingers and wiped her eyes.
"Men like you don't see me as attractive. You think she's cool. She cute in the face but too damn thick in the waist. You fall for me because you feel sorry for me." "Give me your hand."
She puts it in my mine and I kiss it. I kiss her lips and say, "You are so busy beating down your looks you haven't heard a word I said. Listen to me and hear me. You are who I want to be with. I enjoy you and I have no reason to feel sorry for you. You are beautiful and as far as your waist I love kissing every inch of it. Every second of the day all I want is to be in your space and in your face. So stop being afraid to be loved."
She wraps her arms around his me.
"I think you should go to counseling. I will go with you if you are scared. You need to heal, baby."
"Please don't tell anyone. I am so ashamed."
"I will never do that. Let me be the Author of our love story. Let me create chapters of our fairy tale romance. Let me publish our love in paper back and e-book and spread our love world wide. So you're heart, mind, body and soul is secure that my love for you is real."
"I want to it is what I desire but I think this is out of guilt. "
"Okay but you refuse to hear me. Get some rest.
The night came to a close, yet I sat up praying, begging God to help me reach her heart. I am in love and I bended down on my knees praying for restoration of her self esteem, her confidence, her heart to free the burdens of past hurt. Miracles happen at the best of times, at the worst and the lost of hope.
The next morning she was sound asleep and I woke up. I stared at her angelic face, traced my finger on the edge of her cheek. I saw the sun reflect off her face though the day was cloudy, dark and gloomy. My mission was to convince her of what I saw in and around her . Love. I prayed about it last night and to see the peak of sun on a day like today was truly a sign from God on how to speak to her heart.
"Can I tell you something this morning? Maybe I can't convince you how amazing, smart and beautiful you are. So can I show you from God's prospective what he thinks of you? Look at that sun. You are the sunshine of God and your life. Whenever he thinks of you he smiles. He doesn't see his creation or idea of you as a mistake. Why allow anyone to dim your light? To rain on your thought process and wash away your bright light that glows so beautifully."
She couldn't help but feel the warmth of love all over her. The storm of defeat, the rain of self- hate was being washed away. The storm outside was God's way of removing all the things that held her hostage. I held her hand, kissed her lips and the strength of the sun breaking, the ease of the rain drops and in the sky was a rainbow.
Love is and always will conquer hate.
She whispered, "I'm not afraid to love you.
Five years later she is my wife, my best friend and the rhythm to my heart beat. I think back on that day I found her on the floor and at that moment no one was more important to me. We grew in love, she healed with prayer and counsel. She taught me patience. She allow me and she to author our love story. This isn't the end but many more beginnings.
Author Tamyara Brown
My love for writing is unconditional. It is my sanity in this crazy world.