"You gotta be fucking kidding me, Shay! Why the fuck are you with him?" Montí shouts from across the room, and I don't respond.
Well, I can't. I'm still in total shock that Montí is even here, lying on my couch.
I haven't heard from him since I left him standing in the middle of the street on Wednesday night, after our date.
Now, here he is, in my house, questioning who the fuck I'm with. SMDH!
This has been one crazy ass week, and I'm so ready for it to be over, but for now, I have to deal with this shit!
Fuck my life!
What else can happen this week? I need it to hurry up and end because I just can't.
"Man, fuck you!" Justin retaliates, stepping from behind me. I step right back in front of him.
"Babe, I got this, be cool."
"I don't like this guy, Shay!" He yells, pointing at Montí.
"No one gives a fuck who you like, nigga!" Montí protests, moving toward us, and I stand in front of him to stop him.
"Montí, stop! What are you doing here?" I finally ask, making him face me.
"I needed to talk to you." he's calmer as he grips my shoulder, looking me dead in my eyes.
Justin tenses up from his unexpected touch, but I brush his hand mildly, letting him know it's okay, I got this.
"What could you possibly want to talk to me about after three years, three fucking years!" I hold up three fingers, emphasizing the three.
I feel myself getting angry all over again. Montí can't keep doing this to me, and I can't keep allowing it. I need to break the cycle sooner than later, or he will continue to think it's okay to leave me and then pick me back up whenever the hell he feels like it.
"A lot... that I lov-" He stops himself before completing his declaration.
"That you love me? Say it! That you love me! SAY IT!" I stare him dead in his eyes, and he looks away.
"That's what I thought, nigga, you can't say the shit, can you? I'm not even sure how you were able to say it the other night. Do you even know what it is, to actually love someone? And why now, Montí? Why three years later, you feel the need to confess your love?" I'm almost in tears, but I hold my ground. I need answers, and I deserve them.
"I don't know." he sits back down on the couch, and I cross my arms, waiting for an answer. "I mean, I'm not sure why it took me so long to say it, but I've always loved you. I was fighting it."
"Why were you fighting it?" I look down at him.
"Shay, are you seriously listening to his ass. He's pathetic! Fuck him! You have me now!" Justin turns me around to face him, and I feel like the room is spinning, and I feel nauseous from all this back and forth.
"She's listening to me because she loves me too, what don't you get white boy? Why do you want her so bad? What the fuck are you getting out of this? Is she another charity case for you? You fucking white folks love charity cases," Montí challenges Justin, shaking his head!
I'm surprised he is even coming to my defense, but I have to admit, I adore it oddly enough.
"What's your fucking problem, dude? Are you afraid that this white guy as you so nicely put it, has one up on you, and that I may treat this black goddess better than you or any other black man could ever do?" Justin responds, getting more and more furious with Montí.
YOU ARE READING
I'm tired of black men...but then again I'm not
RomanceKashay Taylor, an African American activist who is tired of dealing with no-good black men, is approached by Justin Michaels, a white man fascinated by her. However, there is a war going on inside of her. Even though black men have not treated her...
