Eric swore he was so relevant. Imagine my surprise when he had the nerve to text me back "I've taken a vow of celibacy."
What? Negro, please. Did he want a reaction? Eric had been my side-dick, off and on, for about two years now and he wanted to pull this. I didn't even write anything back. If he wasn't available to give me what I wanted, he was useless. The thing about being a woman in charge of my sexuality is; I deal with men on my time. I was not the have a meal cooked, take off days from working, spend lonely nights crying over simple ass men type. I put my hustle and desires first, and when I had time and felt like being entertained, I would make a phone call or two.
I found this particular Tuesday evening to be quiet. I didn't follow any schedules but my own, and had completed the work I needed to. The days of scrolling Tinder and PlentyOfFish were long over, that was for weak bitches - in my opinion! I wasn't looking for someone to love me. I needed a King who loved himself enough to no longer succumb to the sexual and mental slavery most men suffer from. A man that was not a slave to pussy and knew how to control his loins. A man so focused on his hustle and empire that he didn't even entertain thirst-trapping ass women, or men...
A man like that would understand what my life was about. And he would not require extra attention from village dwellers. A man like that was worth making sacrifices for. Don't get me wrong, life had shown me plenty of times before why sacrificing my time for attention and semi-consistent dick was a waste. I learned to move different, also that I am not impressed by mediocre or regular shit. And I didn't apologize for it.
Eric sent a few more texts that I didn't answer. I guess he hadn't realized that his vow of celibacy was not anything that I was interested in. And realizing that he was now just another distraction, I blocked him from my phone. Why? Because I fucking could and there was nothing he could do about it. Like I said before, it was a waste. And time is money...
Plenty of other women (my sisters), waste their time with men they either have no interest in or that they believe to have potential. Fuck all of that! Are you so insecure that you rather hope and pray about a lame nigga getting his shit together instead of actually having a man with his shit together pursue you?
Why are so many of them satisfied with consistent dick and attention? I wondered. Meanwhile, her bills were piling up, she's losing edges because this bum has her stressing and she knows he's dealing with other women. And what? You gonna stay because he texts you every morning and slides up in ya sacredness and provides you with some low-level orgasms? Cut it out! The notion of "love" is what keeps my sisters in the dark. We love everything and everyone but ourselves. We let society tell us that we aren't worth shit without a man around - no matter how abusive or bummy he is! But the mental, spiritual and physical suffering associated with that attachment is why we are left feeling unfulfilled. And I saw "we" because the wounds of my sisters were wounds of my own. And even though I had seen the light, and expressed it everyday in the way that I moved, there was still so much more work to do.
All of the suffering that I watched my sister-friends go through, for the past decade, aligned with men somehow. More so, it aligned with their ATTACHMENT to this idea of what they're supposed to be. It's comical the way patriarchy has bamboozled us, all of us! Even men are suffering. They may not all admit it, but they know that manipulating and having purely sexual relations with random women gets old. But it's a cycle that continues, because the mental illness that plagues the attachment to suffering is not discriminatory. The cure? Self-Awareness. But who really wants to do that? Who's actually brave enough to face their demons alone with no one around except the Creator? Who's willing to look in the mirror and have a face-to-face? Some people can't even spend an evening alone, let alone a few months or a few years to actually know themselves. Who are you, when you're not involved with someone else? What are your quirks, your dreams, your flaws and your talents?
I'm still asking myself the same questions. I'm still finding all of that out. I am still enjoying my Soul journey. And like I said, the only man worth making a sacrifice for is a man who is doing the same. So fuck Eric. Fuck him and every other man out here like him. They don't validate my worth, I do. And the contradiction found in my decision not to deal with Eric because he was now supposedly celibate, is rooted in his constant need for ego stroking and untamed sex that I once rewarded him with. Sure, he thought that it was all his idea; that he had somehow wooed me and made me want to surrender. That wasn't the case however. I had dealt with him when I wanted to or when I thought I needed to. And now, since he no longer served the parts of me that I needed to comfort, I disposed of him. His ex-wife could have him all to herself now. Because my dreams had already showed me a few nights prior that he was back in her bed. See what I mean?
Being Self-aware is my navigation through the chaos. It's how I preserve my Soul energy and guarantee happiness in this life and the lifetimes that shall follow. It's the way I create my legacy of fucking greatness. And don't you go worrying yourself about who I am and what they call me. Just know, Mermaid Pussy strikes again. And SHE will continue to....