Aquarius Man : Part two…

Have you ever felt the need to be seen? To be genuinely loved and cherished. Before I get ahead of myself, writing about Aquarius man was not as much fun as I had imagined. To put it in better words, at times the present moment might be unsatisfying, but the worst distress I’ve yet discovered is going backward.

For those who are unfamiliar with me, my name is Jazmine Warrior, and this is the story of how I ‘believe’ I found my soul mate. I’m not sure about you, but I’m sick of masking my true desires for love. In case you have forgotten, I’ve been dumped three times thus far. Mr. Noble, Michael, and Kabelo. If you haven’t read part one of Aquarius Man, kindly do so before continuing.

Initially, writing about the dilemmas I encountered was emotionally challenging. I thought that it would be easier now that I am in the arms of my true love, and how naïve I was to believe that all his tenderness would erase my baggage. This took a toll on me, and I began to wonder if I had truly healed, and if so, why did I feel the need to bring up former interactions rather than focusing merely on Aquarius man.

Nevertheless, no matter how hard I tried to escape the thoughts and put off writing, I realized there was no other way to write about him. This is how the story must begin; you see, in my prior existence, I’d like to believe I was not purposely hurt. Perhaps I was simply knocking on the wrong door. Then again, the situation was created by me. Perhaps all I had to do was practice celibacy. The plan after Mr. Noble was to be alone, but this time be a little smarter and avoid falling as easily and quickly. Though I was an emotional ticking bomb, I didn’t know how to cope with my heartbreak, so I buried it in the darkest parts of my mind, oblivious to the fact that I needed to confront it. Instead, I spared the pain by finding an escape in another, which only resulted in the creation of more storage, which was filled with nothing but avoidance. I gradually began to doubt the existence of real love.

This time, I wanted a companion, someone I could call a friend while still using as a snack. I wanted someone to whom I could confide about my decisions without feeling criticized but rather embraced. Tau filled that role for me because I craved for someone there who didn’t have high expectations of me but was content to simply be present. Tau and I connected right away. However, I’m not sure whether it was her intention to set us up when I met him through a mutual friend. He was a rugby player who had recently ended a five-year relationship and was attempting to regain his footing like any other university student. He simply wanted to be heard and held. We were both hurting so the last thing we wanted was to complicate our situation. We sat throughout the night talking and although he was drunk to remember anything the next day, that evening he asked to be my sleeping partner.

I started to enjoy his company since he didn’t put any pressure on me; instead, we spoke, played games, and cuddled until we fell asleep. The following day, I made the decision to accept our friendship. He was happy, and we got along for almost a month before he caught feelings. When I saw it, I should have left right away, but instead I warmed up to him and ended up agreeing to be more than we had anticipated. I should have left the moment I noticed that, but instead I warmed up to him and ended up agreeing to be more than we had planned. That was a terrible decision. Although I had taken a break, I continued to communicate with a few potentials, and the fact that Tau was still in the streets didn’t worry me. So, it’s not like I didn’t know he wasn’t ready for a commitment, but the more he kept persisting, my no eventually turned into a yes.  

Tau and I stayed in the same complex building, so in some ways it seemed inevitable that we would meet. The most of my days were spent with him, which let me escape the pressure and stress I had been feeling at school. I started to question my purpose and wondered if I was on the correct path. I was ready to drop out by that point, but I wasn’t sure I should. Being with Tau made my spiritual emptiness worse because he was an atheist. Even though I was touched in the right places and that we could talk about a variety of things, I was never able to honestly discuss my deepest problems.

Once more, I buried my pain and uncertainty. My dad on the other hand could tell I wasn’t okay, he kept trying to get me to open-up and talk every time I went back home. But it didn’t work. I continued being closed off from everyone who cared about me, until I began to make up lies about being fine. Tau was fun, outgoing, a hustler more of an extrovert just like me. However, he struggled being honest with himself. Within a week of us making it official, I went home for the weekend. I was unaware at the time, but towards the end of the second month I found out that he had an affair with his ex-girlfriend. From what you know so far, I haven’t discussed being cheated on before, and for some unknown reason, I thought that because I am the “it dot com,” no one would ever dare try to cheat. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that there is no such thing.

Tau was good with his words; he knew what to say at the right moment and when I caught up with his lies by going through his phone, I suggested we part ways so he can focus on himself. Instead, he asked for forgiveness and told me a traumatizing story from his past to get me feeling like he truly needed me. And like the clown I was, I stayed. Making that choice was the beginning of my hatred on myself. Before then, I had sworn, like every other lady, that I would never forgive a dishonest man, but I did more than that. The relationship worsened; he continued to cheat from that day on for the next five months, and eventually when I realized that I was not as important as I had thought I had a breakdown. Resulting in me overdosing thinking that I can stop the pain. The next day, I awoke in a hospital bed with drips and bandages on both of my wrists due to self-harm.

One could think he’d leave me after that, but he came to see me at the hospital and said all the right things, which made me believe maybe he does love me and maybe I should give him another chance. I wish someone had taught me the genuine meaning of self-love because it would have saved me a lot of time and energy. There was a lot more that happened between Tau and I that simply spelled toxic. It got to a point where I was almost arrested for trashing his property. Again, choosing violence is not a choice, despite that I was highly medicated and drunk, all I did when I saw him with another lady at his place was see red. With all the back and forth and on and off, I overheard him telling his friends about me, telling them how crazy I was and how he just wants me off his back. Everyone was laughing and connecting over how stupid I was.

That evening, I ran back to my apartment, shouting suicide thoughts in my head, and I called my therapist, who blued ticked me instead. Weeks before, I spent drinking bottles after bottles, taking more pills to ease the pain, and overdosing for the second time. However, something changed that night. Hearing Tau make fun of me and my wellbeing, I finally realized I had to let him go. I had to help myself. When I was discharged, the first thing I did was flush all the drugs, from the anxiety pills to the painkillers. I poured all the bottles of alcohol down the drain. I went to the gym the next day and worked hard to pull myself back up.

It didn’t take long for my mind to return, but it was too late for school; I had missed all my classes and important deadlines that I didn’t make it by the end of the year. My father was disappointed, and I had no choice but to tell him the truth. I expected him to send me to my aunt’s house, but instead he supported me in getting back on my feet. The plan was to return home and take a year off. Months passed and I was back to smiling, going out, and being the Jazmine that I like.

I wanted to say goodbye to the city of gold two weeks before I moved back home, so several of my friends and I decided to party one last time. I was still vulnerable mentally. I’d given up trying to figure out if God was present. Physically, I was in fantastic shape, which restored my confidence, even though I spent my nights crying. I knew I was crying this time because I’m fighting against obstacles to go flatline for good. Then there was Aphiwe Madikizela; that evening, all I remember is looking fabulous. I don’t recall ever seeing or speaking to Aphiwe, blame that on the alcohol intake. I awoke to a text message that he’d sent from my phone to himself to guarantee he had my numbers.

I honestly thought nothing of it at first, and we kept trying to make plans to hang out, which always fell through, until the weekend arrived, and he insisted on meeting. Obviously, I had to get my girlfriends to come with me because I had no idea who he was. I was nervous when I arrived at his apartment, and I kept telling myself that nothing would happen with him because I was going back home to mend… Clearly, that was a lie. We kissed after only a few hours of hanging out and believe me when I tell you, the moment felt amazing. Something that caught me by surprise was how we spoke about our problems instead of who we are. He mentioned his previous five-year relationship, talk about deja vu. We talked about why I’m returning home and whether it’s a smart decision. Later that evening we went out and I disappeared on him. The truth is that I was a mess, and as we were talking, I realized that he liked me, so I took a step back. When I returned, he was sitting outside, and he was sad. “I thought had you’d left me,” he softly said. I’m not sure what he meant by that, but it made me think of him differently. I couldn’t understand how a stranger cared about me; perhaps it was the game, but I assumed it was fate. I thought that maybe this was a second chance to feel again, even if it’s just for one night.

It didn’t take long for me to spend the entire weekend at his house, and the Sunday before I left, he asked if we can make it official. This was the first red flag I ignored; he came to that conclusion after looking through my phone, and the thought of him seeing me interacting with someone else irritated him. He offered me a lovely script on how he can get me an apartment, which earned him points because I didn’t want to go back home, as well as words on how we can get to know each other while being in a relationship and how he couldn’t afford to lose a “precious jewel” like me. Every part of me fought the urge to be with him simply because I didn’t know him, but I ignored the voice and thought of how wonderful it would be to be able to return to Jozi. Although I refused the apartment, I agreed to be his lady, and we began a long-distance romance.

One thing I can’t fault Aphiwe for is how well he knows how to treat a woman. Everything was going smoothly between us throughout the first month. I’d chosen to cut all my potential lovers and start fresh with this stranger. This time, I assured myself, “I’m doing it the right way and being honest.” I went to see him after the second month, and on the third night, I decided to look through his phone. It just felt too good to be true, and I needed to know if this is it. I found what I was looking for, and he had girls on girls, just like a typical man, who he promised sweet nothings to, just like he did to me. The majority were coworkers, with others I figured were his “friends.” Instead of stirring up trouble, I kept my thoughts to myself and opted to stay.

If you had asked me why I stayed back then, I would have lied and said I don’t know, but the fact is that I stayed because of the things he got for me. I stayed because I didn’t want to be alone; having someone to call every morning and evening helped me feel better about my existing situation, which was living at home and feeling like a failure. Aphiwe understood me as well; anytime dark thoughts invaded my mind, he knew exactly what to say. I had forgotten that I’d pledged not to fall in love, but how quickly that promise crumbled. Although I could talk to Aphiwe about a few things, I couldn’t tell him I knew I wasn’t the only baby in his life, so I called an old acquaintance who I never dated but ended up in the same bed whenever I was single. Thabang was a wonderful guy who helped me heal from Tau and always gave solid advice; unfortunately, he wanted more than what I offered him.

I messaged Thabang because I needed advice on how to cope with Aphiwe. I didn’t know how to separate my feelings, and even though I knew I should leave, I didn’t. Thabang urged me to pray and that eventually I would find the appropriate way to handle things, but he also questioned how we’ve known each other for a long time, why is it that I am not with him. Instead, why do I continually end up with toxic men? The truth is that once one becomes familiar to a particular trait or pattern, it is difficult to break that habit; another reason was that I was afraid. I’d rather have gone through the storms with a stranger than with someone I care greatly about. Even though I found myself in relationships, deep down I knew it wouldn’t work out. I would remain to find out why, but it wouldn’t change that I didn’t believe in forever. I never wanted to take that risk with Thabang, so I ran elsewhere.

It was Aphiwe’s birthday eight months later, and he wanted us to go on our first vacation. I happened to mention Thabang to him four days before his birthday, forgetting that he had gone through my phone once, so of course he knew who Thabang was, and the story of us just being friends didn’t fly with him. The day of his birthday, I was in the shower while Aphiwe went through my phone, only to uncover messages that made him feel emotionally cheated on. I won’t lie; I had no business being in a relationship with anyone. I didn’t understand what “I love you” meant, and at that time it seemed like a phrase I only uttered when someone else did. Maybe it was just a reflex, or maybe I was attempting to figure out what love meant without even realizing it.

When Aphiwe saw that I said the three-letter words to Thabang, he flipped. He didn’t say anything the rest of the day, until he got tired of me asking whether he was okay. He was furious, and it was the first time I had seen him angry; he immediately wanted to book me a bus home, but I refused and told him we had to work it out. That day, I tried everything to have him forgive me, but he continued telling me of. I recall contacting my friend Kyle, whom I met during my time with Tau. She was my neighbor, and through my down ships, we grew more like sisters. She reminded me that Aphiwe has been cheating since day one, and that the only reason he is upset is because he feels entitled and expects me to be boo-boo the fool. It all made sense, and I stopped feeling sorry for myself because we were both to blame. When I told him the truth, he denied it and said I was simply searching for excuses. We went out on a double date later that day with his friends. The entire day was unpleasant, and I was torn between fighting for him or calling it quits. Though I didn’t know much about love, I knew I was never the sort to leave, even if it was the only option. So, I decided to stay and figure out how to show him that Thabang was not a problem.

We returned to his apartment that evening and were bickering in the uber on the way back. You see, throughout the entire eight months I’d been with Aphiwe, I’d been keeping tabs on whether he was still seeing his other women, and some days, I’d find myself in the same room with them, and he’d play it off casually. Every girl knew who I was, but they had no idea I knew who they were. I put up with all that humiliation while listening to him lie continuously. Only for him to conclude that I am the evil guy, and he is innocent. Sorry, but I didn’t find that to be appealing. He was lucky that I simply spoke to him since after all the disrespect I received, it only seemed appropriate to return the favor. He, on the other hand, did not see it that way, and as soon as we entered the house, he pushed me against the door and strangled me. He was, in his defense, attempting to “calm me down.”

Now, given my family’s military experience, I had learned a few moves to fight for myself, but that night everything went wrong. First and foremost, we were both intoxicated; perhaps I provoked him with my screaming; perhaps he felt powerless because I knew the truth he sought to conceal; or perhaps I was simply knocking on the wrong door. I was really stunned that he put his hands on me, as he continued squeezing, he stared deep into my eyes and ordered me to quiet up. It’s natural to attempt to fight back, but as he drained the life out of me, all I did was stare back. In retrospect, I realized that I wasn’t terrified; rather, when he released me and I was able to catch my breath, I tossed everything I could get my hands on at him. Everything was thrown, including the kettle, a wooden wine rack, and a knife, which he dodged while coming toward me. He choked me once more, and when he finally let me go, he slapped me. I slipped and landed on my face after losing balance.

My head began to pound, and all I could see was blood dripping from my mouth. He told me to get up while standing there staring down at me as if I had done it to myself. I was told that I had ruined everything. He went on about how much he loved me and how I had broken his heart. Security guards and his roommate arrived to investigate the noise, but I chose to run and lock myself in the room. The strange thing was that I didn’t think he was doing anything wrong; instead, I kept believing I had provoked him. We talked the next day; he seemed remorseful, and he took me to the dentist and a doctor for my knee.

I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t see anything wrong back then. “We were both at blame,” I reasoned to myself. Kyle tried to show me the truth, but I was such a doofus that I couldn’t hear anything she said. I stayed, and we went on our trip as scheduled to Cape Town. When we arrived, it was as if we were a different couple, and we hadn’t just had our first fight. I met his brothers, and we created new memories together. We returned five days later, and the next week when I was home, he broke up with me, saying he can’t let the Thabang matter go and that it’s best if I sort myself out. He never confessed to his infidelity except gave me a simple apology for his actions against me.

Amphiwe’s story did not end there. Within a month, he returned, and there was the start of his game. I thought he was sincere, but it turned out that he had two other girlfriends over the two years we had been on and off. I kept catching him out on his deception, yet I continued to stay. He was convinced that I was a cheater and that I was unsuitable for a committed relationship. So much occurred between us that I had to make the decision to officially let him go because nothing positive was coming out of the situation. Constant arguing left me exhausted; I was tired of having to prove myself, and no matter how hard I tried, he had his own traumas to heal from, just as I did. We attempted to be friends, but he remained the same devious, manipulating character.

Weeks passed and I couldn’t help but feel empty, but I owed it to myself to be alone this time. “Take some time off,” my aunt suggested. That made me realize I didn’t know myself, which is why I never took the time to love myself. That explains why I squandered so many years looking for love in someone else. My father has shared with me several experiences about how I am not the only person who fights to find love and that, even though it doesn’t make sense why I put myself through all of that, if I take the time to learn from my mistakes I will come to my truth. I became more aware that I needed to heal. I just didn’t know how, so I did what he told me to do when I was in question. I said a prayer. I let it all go, cried, raged, whatever it took to just let it all go.

Unfortunately, there is no menu on how to love oneself, nor is there a handbook on how to fall in love or which men to avoid. The only way to find it out is to simply go through it. Looking back, I am not the proudest of myself, but I am glad I approached every situation with an open mind. I got to meet different versions of myself. For instance, with Michael, I learned my womanhood; with Kabelo, I recognized I am selfish and dislike sharing. With Mr. Noble, I discovered my voice and how to use it. Tau taught me that I am strong, and Aphiwe reminded me the need to love myself. Thabang taught me the importance of honesty.

Though it doesn’t make sense, I’d like to believe I’ve healed; that I’ve forgiven and accepted the past for what it is. The Past will not change no matter how many times one dwells in it. Instead, I changed myself, reclaimed my power, and channeled it into the proper areas of my life. Even though I was stressed about turning 26 and could have given up on love by then, I still cherished it in my heart. The absurd thing is that Aquarius man was right there under my nose the entire time, all I had to do was look.

I suddenly saw my true love with only one glimpse. As soon as I rested my eyes on his gloomy yet serene mocha eyes, I wished to start over and leave it all behind. I took his hand without a hesitation, not know anything about him other than our history and the charming letters he used to write for me in primary school till now. I made the decision to love again and eloped with the boy next door.


Thank you so much for your support and for taking the time to read Part Two of Aquarius Man. Remember to share, like, and comment on Ozora’s Blog. If you haven’t already, please subscribe to stay up to date.

xoxo

Aquarius Man…

“Shawty, I’ma only tell you this once, you the illest (Ba, ba-da, doh) And for your loving’, I’ma Die Hard like Bruce Wills (Ba, ba-da, doh) You have spark, you got spunk,” Nicki Minaj sang. You have something that all the girls want. You’re like a candy store and I’m a toddler. You got me wanting more and m-m-more of Your love, your love (yeah),” I felt that.

Oh, my goodness, where have all my manners gone? You’re probably wondering who I am. I’m simply the girl next-door. My given name is Jazmine, and my surname is Warrior. No, I’m not a warrior’s descendant, but I suppose that could be the case since my father’s entire family has served in the army.

Here’s a little backstory: when I was born, my mother died from complications related to giving birth and losing a lot of blood. My father looked after me as an only child with the support of his sisters and brothers. As a result, you can imagine all the politics around who thinks what is best for me. My father, on the other hand, has always been by my side and has instilled in me vital values such as discipline, family, love, and faith. I had always wondered why he couldn’t get past my mother, and it wasn’t until my 15th birthday that he finally answered my unasked question. “Your mother and I both knew having you would be a risk before you arrived. I won’t lie to you, my angel, it upset me that she was willing to lose me, and I held back from fully loving her throughout the pregnancy because I knew she was leaving. While I was seeking a solution, your grandmother looked after her. There was nothing I, or any doctor, could have done to prevent it. She took my hand and pledged to be by my side on the night of the delivery. She made me vow to look after you, and every time I see her in you, I must remember that commitment. When I first held you, I was overjoyed, and your mother was absolutely delighted, as well. Now, I know you and many others are attempting to match me with someone, but there is no one I would rather be with than my lovely wife, who is patiently waiting for me in the afterlife.”

He waited 15 years to tell me the story, and I’m glad he did because it taught me the true meaning of unconditional love and the type of love I want from a partner. I grew up with the notion that love is simple, but people chose to complicate it. However, as I began dating, I understood that you might fall in love with the wrong person, and because this is not the person you should be with, complications arise. I am currently 26 years old, and when I say I have been around the block, I precisely mean that. I’m sure you can tell I’m a hopeless romantic based on what little I’ve told you about my family. I’ve always been, but after being hurt so many times, I’ve concluded that men irritate me. I don’t understand why I had to sift through schmucks to find ‘The One.’ But don’t get me wrong, I was usually the problem, but remember that unconditional love I mentioned? Yeah, they couldn’t handle me.

Michael Evans, to begin with, was my first. He was a sweetheart. A very attractive young man who smelled good and was well-behaved. I met him when we were in high school. Funny story: he was dating one of my friends, but after they broke up, she began acting strangely towards me, and before we knew it, Michael was walking me back to the hostel, and we began to hang out more, and then, bam, he asked me to be his girlfriend. He was well-versed in how to treat a lady in high school and had a detailed understanding of my love language. He was always willing to spend on me. Every month on the 14th, he’d take me out on a date and bring me flowers.

In general, I’m an emotional wreck, but Michael adored that about me; he was always available emotionally and always said the sensible things when I felt like crying myself to sleep. I liked how everyone at school admired us as a couple because we were always together. Unfortunately, I felt that we would have to break up at some point. We both had intentions to move after matric, so it only made sense to allow ourselves to experience university to the fullest. Perhaps he didn’t like the plan and, rather than breaking up with me later, chose to break up with me a week before final exams, saying, “Jaz, I feel like you’re putting so much pressure on me, and I can’t seem to focus on my studies.” That was a cowardly act, but I couldn’t ignore his feelings, so I let it go and cried myself to sleep without him.

There were young boys who attempted to explore their manhood with me before Michael, but they never got the chance because my father taught me the value of a woman withholding herself till, she meets the ‘right’ man. Which is why I thought Michael was the ‘right’ one because he never made me feel like all he wanted was sex. However, unlocking that door placed me face to face with a new girl. My confidence grew, and it reflected in the way I walked. Apart from my intelligence and affection, I knew what I could bring to the table. I improved my appearance by wearing colognes and learning how to apply make-up to enhance my beauty. I discovered that sex is a source of power, and that we live in a world where men are continuously lusting after women. By the time I arrived at university, I had made up my mind that I would not start another committed relationship. Rather, I planned to embrace my womanhood and live my best life. My father and I fought during this period of my life because he wanted me to concentrate on my studies, earn a business degree, and follow in his footsteps as an entrepreneur. I, on the other hand, had different ideas. I made the decision to leave home and study music in Johannesburg.

The first day at AFDA university was incredible; it was a world full of talented individuals who were all there to pursue their passions in the creative sector that is known as the entertainment industry. It seemed like the proper place to be, except there was so much competition that if you didn’t believe in your craft, you were doomed to fail. The other gender was drooling at me from the time I walked in. To top it off, all my housemates were stunning, so when we all walked together, it was a solid powerhouse of attractive first years. No, truly, when I stated that my plan was to chase my aspirations and live my best life, I meant it. Discipline, on the other hand, was something I battled with. I was the kind to have a good time, but I was having way too much fun.

Even Kabelo had the nerve to criticize my weakness for why he never considered me as girlfriend material. Argh…when I first arrived at Kingsway student accommodation, he was the first guy I met. Apart from being a jerk for doing all the wonderful things for me but not wanting me to be his girl, Kabelo Peterson was a good guy. He had gorgeous, rich dreadlocks and always smelt fantastic. By the way, I have a thing for men that smell good and know how to take care of themselves because it indicates that we share a common interest in cleanliness. Unlike Michael, Kabelo kept me hidden from the rest of the world. He never mentioned me, his friends were unaware of my presence, and I knew no one important in his life. Because he was so busy, he couldn’t always make time for me. I didn’t mind at the time because I didn’t want to be in a relationship, but can a girl be appreciated? I felt used, but I couldn’t describe it since every time he came to see me, he brought gifts, chocolates, drinks, and food. All the things that took my attention away from the fact that he was purchasing my time. Until one day, after he had left my place, he decided to post a picture of his ex-girlfriend with the message, “You the only one I see myself with.” The Audacity! I didn’t even bother to tell him about it because I knew I wasn’t the “perfect” girl for him. I continued to cry myself to sleep and mind my own business.

I went out with my friends after a week and met Mr. Noble. I didn’t think he was appealing at first because he was a DJ and Zulu, and we all know how that story ends. I refer to him as Mr. Noble because he made me feel immature and that I needed to change. That night was a blast; I was still experimenting with make-up and learning how to do my hair at the time, so I wasn’t in my best look, but he liked something about me. He was odd and secluded. I doubt we would have talked if I hadn’t asked him to pass the pipe. But as soon as we began conversing, I realized he wasn’t a bad guy. He only wanted to be the greatest in the industry and take care of his siblings. The night had to come to an end, so he asked if he can walk me out. Now, I don’t want to give too much information away because I’m keeping that for my Aquarius man, but Mr. Noble made sure to plant a kiss on my lips that made me think about him on the way back home.

He paid me a visit the following day. He made sure to bring some of my favorite snacks and foods. Please, guys, make sure you grasp the significance of not showing up to your woman empty-handed. Come on now, it’s like a culture. Anyway, spending time with Mr. Noble made me realize that I may have been too harsh in my opinion of him. He made it clear that he wanted me to be his girlfriend, but I requested for more time because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to commit. Also, I wasn’t about to forsake my plans only for a yellow bone I had just met. I went about my business as usual, making time for him whenever he was available. One of the things I disliked about him was that whenever he came to see me, he would fall asleep after we’d finished our thing. What am I? A guest room where you come to sleep and then immediately bounce when you wake up? I’m sorry…No.

We didn’t work out, obviously. I was far too crazy for him, and all he wanted was a woman who would listen to him and not speak her mind, because anytime I did, he would tell me that I was still young and needed to progress. He blocked me on all his social media channels after eight months, but I would still wile out anytime I saw him at a club because… how do you do that? I recall pouring him with a glass of cold water the last time I saw him. To begin with, I was wrong for choosing violence, although I was surprised at how he ignored me when I wanted to speak with him, all because he wanted to impress a female. I would have left if he had just said, “I don’t want to talk,” but instead YOU IGNORE ME. Sir, did you ignore me the previous time you came to sleep at my place?


Anyway, before Aquarius man, the universe had placed two other males in my path. I shall, however, resume the story the following Sunday. Thank you for taking the time to read, and I eagerly await your response.

From Jazmine Warrior, I hope to see you soon.

Last of Erica

Did I just…

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. 
-Author

Good afternoon

I’m tempted to ask about your week, but I’m sure you’re all eagerly waiting for the story. Please read ‘Erica?!’, first if you haven’t already. Also, please read episode 2 titled ‘Royal, but…’, before moving on to episode 3 titled ‘Did I just…’

Now, with everything out of the way, let’s get started. Lisa and I had been friends for about two months before I had the opportunity to sleep over at her house. My mother was not fond of allowing me to have sleepovers, but we made the effort to spend as much time as possible together. We would always hang out at school before the first sleepover, and after school, we would sometimes head to town and chill out at her father’s salon. Some days, we’d take the bus home from school and wait for her father to pick her up at my mother’s workplace. Most of the time, she would come to my house, and we would watch television while doing our homework, and then I would walk her home.

Sundays were the worst for me because Groblersdal was a small town, and we all went to the same church. Others, on the other hand, didn’t love going to church, and I can’t say I blame them because the church was full of lost souls who preferred to condemn others rather than fixing themselves. I won’t dispute, going to church isn’t my favorite hobby. However, I found myself fighting with the thoughts I had ignored about Lisa at the time. I used to avoid Lisa whenever I went to church the next Monday, not because I didn’t want to see her, but because I thought being around her made me a sinner. To be honest, I think she knew why I avoided her because instead of following me around, she would slip me a note in my book that said, “There is no need to avoid me you know,” while I went to the bathroom. Her note would sometimes be a sonnet or sentimental quotes about how much she loves me and doesn’t want to lose me. Every part of me would be overjoyed as soon as I read her notes. Within the next few minutes, I’d switched tables to sit next to her.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. 
-Author

Everyone assumed we were already lovers at this point, and whenever I avoided her, others would refer to us as the angry birds. Some boys would sing “Two little birds, sitting in the tree”, as soon as I moved to sit next to her. The main mean girls would then discuss how inappropriate it is for two girls to be so close, but as you know, Lisa and I were uninterested about what other people thought or said. We seemed to be in our own little world. For some time, this back-and-forth went on until the sleepover. I remember going to town with her to ask her father for the home keys and if I could sleep over, and I honestly hoped he would say no, but instead he said yes. We then took the school bus, and she kept saying how happy she is to show me her room and introduce me to her younger brother, but I couldn’t help but wonder if being alone with her for the night was a wise choice. We got off the bus and walked to my mother’s workplace to ask if I could sleep over, and a part of me was relieved because I knew my mother wouldn’t let me down, and she did.

Every nerve in my body was now twitching. She asked if I was okay as we walked to my house to grab clothes and cosmetics. I lied and said yes, she then grabbed my hand in hers and tenderly kissed it. “If you don’t want to sleep over, we can always cancel,” she replied. All those doubts and thoughts I kept overthinking on the way faded as soon as she said we may cancel, and it was in the way she looked at me. I agreed with a smile and a nod. One thing my friends despise about me is my indecisiveness. You can never be confident of my decision since I can change my mind in a matter of seconds. We ran into Hope as we walked to her house from gathering my belongings. Hope was Lisa’s girlfriend, but I didn’t realize it until we arrived at her place.

Hope welcomed me with such excitement on the way, expressing that she had heard nothing but beautiful deeds about me. I didn’t understand why she was so cheerful, or why she was accompanying us on our walk. When we arrived at Lisa’s house, she was immediately at comfort and offered me a drink while Lisa carried my belongings to her room. I found myself asking her why she was here out of insecurity. “She’s a feisty one.”, Lisa said as she was walking in. “I’m here because Lisa wanted me to meet her best friend.” Hope responded to my question, I felt myself easing off on her presents within minutes.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. 
-Author

Because I was an athlete at the time, I didn’t drink alcohol, but when Lisa offered me a glass of brown liquor that afternoon, I accepted it. “Slow down baby, that’s no juice,” Hope exclaimed after I finished the entire drink, and we all burst into laughter. We laughed, joked, and gossiped about folks from church and school for nearly two hours. We also discussed how thrilled we are to begin university life and planned to study at the same area. Hope and I continued talking until she said she was going to check on Lisa, who stood up and claimed she needed to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago. After what seemed like a decade of their disappearing, I decided to check on them.

“Hope, Lisa. I asked, “Where are you?” as I stumbled over my own feet. I heard laughter coming from a room further down the corridor. I walked into them kissing, completely unaware of what was happening. Stupid me apologizes for intruding and attempts to flee. Lisa instantly stops me from opening the door. I had heat flashes right afterwards and remember mentally shouting, “GOD WHAT IS THIS?!?” Outside, though, I was as cool as a cucumber. Lisa then took my hand in hers and gently kissed it, asking, “Have you ever kissed a girl?” Of course not, but I found myself unable to express myself and instead shook my head in disapproval. She continued, “Would you like to try?” as she inched closer to me. “God, are we allowed to be kissing?” I wondered, my insides twisting inside out as I tried to figure out whether this was even right. Obviously not, given you said in the word…”, I felt the softest lips brush against my lips, bringing me back to the present time.

She pushes me gently towards the bed, where Hope had been eagerly waiting for us. Hope stands up and gives Lisa a look that felt like she was asking for her consent because it was the same look, she gave me when I was drawn to her. Hope placed a kiss on the edge of my right shoulder before leisurely moving along to my neck. First and foremost, I’d like to point out that that was the first time I felt the back of my hair rise. She then kissed me again, this time on my lips, assuring that I was left stimulated. To be honest, I have no idea if I was a decent kisser because it was the first time that afternoon. I could tell they were experienced, though, because they were able to make me feel at ease without having to say anything. Hope and Lisa invited me to join them on the bed, but my legs wouldn’t move. I tried, but nothing happened. Just as I had accepted that I had sinned and that it is what it is, my legs decide otherwise.

Hope and Lisa continued with what I had interrupted when I went in, because no one has time for an indecisive girl. I’m not sure how long I stood there; nonetheless, it was long enough for them to remove their clothing and for me to remain perplexed as to what I should do. Lisa stopped and gave me those puppy eyes that said, “Why are you standing there?” I swear something moved me because I found myself removing my clothing and anxiously climbing into bed. They split up with the aim to create space for me in the middle. I’ve never had so much attention given to me, and I swear it turned me on how much Lisa and Hope desired me. Who knew feminine energy could be so attractive? Lisa came closer, making sure her face was inches away from mine, and I made sure I was comfy against the pillows. As she carefully moved to my right ear lope, she asked, “Are you okay?” Listen to me when I say there’s something about my right side of the body since I felt a drop escape from a spot I didn’t see coming.

This picture is with two of my closest friends. We are not Erica, Lisa and Hope. The image is just here to sevre as a representation of the three girls in the story. Please don't get it twisted. 
-Author

I agreed once more with a nod of my head. You’re probably asking why I couldn’t speak. Apart from the fact that it was my first time, it all felt like I was in a fantasy film. Also, because Hope was rousing my vulva at the time, replying to Lisa was impossible. “Goodness me,” I said as I tried to conceal the fact that everything felt unreal and far too good to be true. That is one experience I would gladly repeat. Hope was aware of what she was up to, and it was difficult for me to concentrate on the sensation of Lisa nuzzling my good side with her soft lips while gently caressing my booby. They both had this tickle trick where their tongue lightly twirls and moistens their lips while kissing you. My vulva was moistened as a result of the tickling trick. IT MADE MY PUSSY WET, to put it another way.

 The image is just here to sevre as a representation of Erica in the story. Please don't get it twisted. I am not Erica.
-Author

I didn’t know anything, but I didn’t have to that day because they took care of me; it was as if they had planned everything a long time ago, and instead of feeling like Lisa had fooled me, I felt comfortable. I was happier to have met her since it was the first time in my dull life that I could say I had done something extraordinary. I still find it difficult to consider myself in a “relationship” with a female, preferring instead to have fun before we part ways. It never works because I compare every woman I meet to Lisa. Lisa had a knack for saying the perfect thing at the right time. By the way she stared at me, Lisa understood exactly how to entice my lady bits. Her touch was seductive, and when I recall how she carefully massaged my vulva, making sure to use her fingertip to promote lubrication. A part of me dies inside, knowing that no one would ever touch me like she did. She managed to awaken something in me that I could not ignore any longer that day. She was able to share me with Hope, and they both helped me recognize that I am bisexual and that I no longer need to resist.

What happened to Lisa? You might be wondering, but I’m afraid I don’t know. We all laid still until we heard the garage door open after the intense moment, and then we all rushed to get dressed. Hope left after thirty minutes because it was becoming dark, and Lisa and I spent the rest of the evening relaxing. I didn’t have the nerve to mention anything about what had happened earlier, and I’m guessing she wasn’t either. We were able to complete our studies while also watching television. We were back to our ordinary hangout routine, and as much as I kept replaying what had happened, I was relieved there were no awkward feelings.

My mom picked me up from her place the next day, which was a Saturday. Instead of returning home, she informs me that we will be taking a road trip to see some relatives. Sorry to say this, but my mother was a liar that day; she practically conned me because the only reason she allowed the sleepover was because she had planned for us to relocate. She did it again, but this time she kept it hidden from me because we had a big fight the last time we moved. I didn’t witness the moving truck because her daughter was being scissored at the time, and I also didn’t get to say goodbye to Lisa Solo.

That concludes the tale of how I, Erica Royal, came to accept my sexuality. I hope you found it enjoyable, and don’t forget to like, comment, and share it. Don’t forget to sign up for more stories by clicking below. I’m not sure if you can tell, but my tone is a little gloomy. I guess reminiscing has its downsides.

Till Next Time.

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