How Jesse Got His Karma

thirty-five

I shouldn't have said what I said to her.

It was a dick move and I didn't miss the look on her face as I was saying some of those things and I already feel like more of an asshole than I already am.

Contrary to what you might think, I'm not some heartless unemotional bastard.

I was told that my anger would get me in trouble one day and here I go fucking up any chance I had at a platonic relationship with a girl.

Who am I kidding? That shit was far from platonic.

Emiliano and Athena already think we're dating and I don't even know what I'm going to say the next time I'm on the phone with Athena and she asks me questions about her.

There is a method and reasoning to my madness I swear.

I already have an idea as to who could've shot Ryan that night. Or who was behind it.

My sick and equally twisted son of a bitch that I have for a godfather is who to blame because if it were any other enemy of mine they would've gone straight for me not one of my friends and his little girlfriend.

I blamed Karma for being the reason why I wasn't focusing on all of these things going on around me enough to know just how serious Joseph was when he said that I was going to wish I took his offer.

If he thinks this is gonna scare me into giving up my gang he is sadly mistaken.

Should I have blamed Karma? No.

Is it actually her fault? No.

It was mine. It was all my fault because I put too much energy into caring for this girl when I knew that I was going to need to be completely focused.

I didn't even get the chance to smash yet and I knew a long time ago that if anyone was going to be the reason that I had a downfall this year it would be her.

I let her captivate me with her big brown eyes, melodious laugh, and witty and sarcastic sense of humor similar to mine.

She had a smile that could light up a whole room and a body that could stop a truck. It still blows my mind how she didn't even realize how much she was teasing me without even trying. I pray to God that she notices how nicely her jeans accentuate every curve of her lower body, and how her natural pear shape had me mesmerized whenever her hips would sway as if it had its own mind. She could wear one of my sweatshirts, as baggy as it would look on her I'd still rip it off of her in attempt to explore the curves and crevices of her body myself if she gave me the okay.

The way she smelled, talked, walked, and just held herself with so much esteem.

Did you know that according to facts and statistics, black women are the most educated demographic in America?

I don't even remember why or when she told me that and how the conversation came about but I hung onto every word that fell from her lips that night just because it was coming from her.