For the next few hours, I sulked in my hurt and pain. I smoked half a pack of Newport's. I nursed a bottle of white Hennessy, locked in my bedroom. I was tipsy, but not quite intoxicated. I just wanted to feel something other than hurt, without puking the next morning. I sat on the edge of my bed, broken. I refused to move. I refused to think. I forced myself not to read the eviction notice that someone from the leasing office slid under my front door in addition to heartache.

Daddy cut any ties to his money from me. I had less than seven days to vacate the premises. Who cared. I blocked Dime's number and ripped him out of every photo we shared together. I erased his ass like I erased my ex-boyfriend, Roger. I was crazy in love with that man. I thought he loved me. We did everything together, even shared the same toothbrush. On the night of our three-year anniversary back in February, everything changed...

I poured another shot of brandy as I relived that nightmare.

Roger and I had a great time that day. We'd just moved in with each other after talking about it for months. Part of me was stalling because I didn't want to shack up in sin or see his dirty drawers. Around five pm, he led me to the dining room area of our home. On the round glass table was a tasty dish for two. Baked stuffed bell pepper was my favorite!

After blessing the food, we ate. Food was scrumptious. He was extra chatty, which was odd, but the food was sooooo delicious I thought nothing of it. He was never a talker. I forked the last bite into my mouth and chewed...

What the hell? I pulled a ten-thousand-dollar engagement ring from my mouth. The price tag was still on it. He grinned as he lowered himself on bended knee. He hid the ring in my food. My palms became clammy, and my heart pounded in my chest with excitement.

"Baby, will you marry me?" Roger asked. His eyes glittered with his diamond earrings.

"Yes!" I gushed breathlessly.

I put the condom on for him. I made sure the condom wasn't expired. I was careful when I opened it. "Hurry up, bae! I want to be inside you!" Roger gushed, laying naked on the bed in the semi darkness. He was pressure in a pipe, not the steam itself.

Pressing down on the tip of the rubber (to keep the air out), I rolled it down twelve inches of decadent chocolate. He took me like a fragile flower and pleasured my body in ways that had never been done to me before. He felt so good I started to cry. Pounding my walls, stroking my heat amidst candlelight was eternal bliss. A huge mirror was in front of us...

Blurry images were foggy from bodily heat. After he came the first time, he took off the rubber and put on another one. He was still hard. I was in the doggystyle position and closed my eyes, anticipating entry...

Open your eyes! my conscious screamed, startling me.

Instantly, I opened my eyes and caught him taking off the condom. He hid it under the pillow. I closed my eyes back because he didn't see me. As soon as the tip of his erection touched my warmth, I faked like I had to use the latrine. 

"Okay, baby. Daddy will stroke it till you're finished," he said, short of breath.

I don't care what you do!

I rushed inside my bathroom, in tears, and closed the door. Grief swept my body like rain-swept cobblestone streets in Europe. I was devastated. My gut told me that this wasn't his first time doing that to me. That was what I got for having sex with a brotha that had a head like the character from Hey Arnold.

As I pulled myself together, I quickly sprinted through the second bathroom door that led into the second bedroom. I nearly tripped over clumsy footing as I ran down the stairs into my kitchen. I poured two glasses of red wine. I put two Visene eye drops in his glass.

Nonchalant, I made my way back to my bedroom. He grinned when he saw the wine glasses. I looked down. He put another rubber on, but it was the used condom. The one he came in.

Sick bitch!

He was so sexy. Too bad this engagement ended hours after he took his condom off. Maybe this was a sign.

"My future husband brought daddy some wine?" he asked with a half grin.

I kissed his lips. "Drink up. Then make love to me."

He wolfed it down while I sipped mine. He was out cold a few minutes later. By the time he came to, me and all my shit was gone. I left him a note.

Hey Dummy,

I saw you take that rubber off. Stay away from me. I deleted your number and blocked your trifling ass.

I pawned the ring and he never saw me again. I forced myself to never think of him. I tested positive for HIV a few months after that...

Karma was a bitch. During Dime's massage session in the living room of his secret home he built in the Redlands, the FEDS kicked in his door and arrested him under a no-knock warrant. Millions of dollars in drugs were seized. Eight million dollars in cash. Two dead bodies were dug up from under his Olympic-sized pool. He was sent to the slammer with a life sentence after his reputation was smeared all over the world. 

Most people I knew that lived with HIV had an awesome support system. Not me. I was not close to my mother and my daddy could go to hell with a G-string riding his ass. I didn't feel sorry for him. Being that my childhood was so crazy, I was always jealous of those who had beautiful backstories, friends of mine with solid backgrounds.

Not having a normal upbringing acted as buzz kills in every relationship I ever had. I could not relate to people who came from successful two parent homes and led responsible lives. I didn't have a close-knit family bond with cousins. I never talked about politics or religion with people. Those two subjects always led to fist fights, and I wasn't a thug. Religion was a sore subject. First, Mama had me believing in the tooth fairy. Then she swore up the filthy Flint River that the Easter bunny laid eggs. Then Santa Claus.

I knew Santa was a lie ever since I was five years old because there were no white folks in Goulds, Florida (my neighborhood) at the time nor did we have chimney's his fat ass could slide down. It didn't even snow there. I never saw snow in real life outside of all the quirky holiday movies that gave me acid reflux and a migraine that resorted to me drinking a V8. We always had barbeques on the beach for Christmas because it was so hot.

Yet after all the programming, conditioning and mythical lies...Mama told me I was going to hell when I started snubbing potty-mouthed females and took a liking to men. Then she shoved Jesus down my throat. After lying about fairies, Santa and Easter bunnies, what made her think I gave a shit about her religious views when religion was a safe haven for the devil...?

Mother and I had a huge blow out. For as long as I could remember she'd been bothering me about grandkids and I wasn't ready to have little snot bearers. Kids crap and piss like dogs, and I hadn't that kind of time for women, child support threats or being tied to a woman forever via kids.

So, I passed. I quietly resisted mom's pressurized bullshit, that was until she caught me kissing Brad Pitt's picture on a magazine cover shortly after starting college and she threw me out on the street, with nowhere to go. That wasn't the first time she tried to get rid of me...

Her bitterness split into my invisible life. Vehemently, she called everybody in our generation of people and bashed me, making up lies. It'd gone from kissing Brad to she caught me giving head to my friends and I'd never done such a thing at the time, didn't even know what "giving head" was. I was so frustrated.

Then there came those hypocrite ass Pastors. One in particular. The Sheepherder of mom's ultra insensitive church of recovering crackheads and down low booty bandits. When he tried to do some weird gay exorcism at my grandma's house, I threw a pot of hot grits on his ass and told him to stay the fuck away from me.

Yes, I loved God, whom I refer to as Yahweh, but I wasn't pushing my views on the next person. I would appreciate if the same courtesy was extended to me. Presently, I looked down at my Journal. Yes, I was homeless, living in my Mazda hatchback. I jotted down my thoughts...:

If anyone failed me, it was my mother. Feeding me peaches about life through rose-colored glasses, knowing those roses smelled like shit. I never cared about church, so who gave a shit about their point of view? The church only cared about your tithes. They weren't gladiators or protectors. Tax free money churches get to enjoy.

Mama was in too deep. Inviting those rats, demons and snakes from church into our home since I was very young. She single-handedly opened the door that led to me being abused by the very church folk that damned me to hell when I became an adult. Study the bloody history of the Vatican and the Roman church, and great spiritual men like John Huss, whom they burned at the stake when he wouldn't denounce God...

Some folk fail to realize that the real church is your body, your temple, not a building where false prophets gather, meet, screw each other and talk about everyone that walks through the door, but smile in your face when its tithing time. Secondly, they fail to realize that the old covenant is over, the new covenant is in effect. The OLD ORDER, where God's punishment was immediate, is over. Now you have to pray to Him through Jesus name, if not He doesn't even hear your cry.

Some people eat shrimp, pork and swine (abominations as well) but focus on homosexuality smh, third NO ONE determines who goes to heaven or hell but God, fourth, God didn't say you had to go to church to make it to heaven. He ENCOURAGES fellowship, but it is NOT a requirement. All you have to do is believe in the blood of Christ, His son, to make it there and repent of your sins.

We're all sinners. No one is good. And lastly Jesus never condemned anyone. He loved all his children, not some of them. Pastors are so quick to say "What would Jesus do." He wouldn't degrade anyone.

He wouldn't have whores for Pastors, most of which were in the closet homos, ex-crack heads, ex pimps and dope boys. Some are atheists doing the wear-the-robe thing for profit, for your ten percent...for his new Cadillac.

GOD IS LOVE. Love knows no wrong; it doesn't carry any grudges.

It doesn't judge.

Unfortunately, society does...