Imperfect

F O U R T E E N - C L A R E N C E O T T O M

  The ceiling light burned deep into my eyes as they finally opened for a fresh new day.

    Weight were literally on my shoulders as I woke up, my pillow cushion was a big, round, white booty that slept over for the night—I assumed.

    I smacked it, waking her up with a smile.

    "I enjoyed the night..." she said with a yawn.

    I opened my bedroom dresser, getting my wallet from inside the dresser, hiding it from the bed-haired, blonde woman.

    "You want it?" I questioned her...

    "Yes!" she said with delight as if she won a million dollar lottery.

    I threw something at her, she caught it, she looked at it, and she was pissed...

    "Are you kidding me?" she asked, pissed off.

    I threw something else at her, she grabbed it, she looked at it once again, and she was STILL pissed off...

    "Really, only this?" She wanted more.

    I threw something else at her, letting her catch it like a child catches candy. She looked at it once more, and was still pissed off, AGAIN!

    "I am more than a three dollar hoe!" she yelled at me throwing the money back at me.

    "The sex felt like it was three dollars," I laughed at her, "take the money or leave it... I don't care. Do better next time and you could get more than three dollars..."

    Although she threw the money at me a few seconds earlier, she decided to get the money and take it.

    "Well," she said, blowing her breath, "it's better than no money at all..."

    "True that," I said with a laugh, not caring for her feelings or anything, "true that..."

    My phone that was laid on the bedroom dresser dinged for a second, it was a message. I looked at it and my face lit up with a smile.

    I was excited and quick-ful to respond to the text message immediately.

    "How's life back in Atlanta?" she asked in a text message.

    "It was okay, until I saw you—then it became wonderful, really wonderful." I responded as a text message.

    "Who are you texting?" the half-naked girl questioned me, still lying down in my bed.

    "None of your business," I laughed, "put on your clothes and hurry the hell up and get out."

    My phone dinged once again, she responded...

    "Please," the text message read, "we can only be friends. I'm married and I don't want to ruin anything that I have with Lawrence. Please, I hope you truly understand what I am telling you."

    I thought what we had at the wedding was real. I thought the love making was truly passionate and real love, not just sex.

    "Whatever you want," I responded to her, "I agree on whatever you decide..."