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Savannah, GA April 13– Thursday
I’ve loved exactly three men in my life. Twenty-five years of life and no more than that number has captivated me in the way any of them ever have. The first is my father, Stanford Jamieson Hensley. He was the second Stanford in our family. My mother and I lost him when I was seventeen. The second male was my grandfather, Stanford Jamieson Hensley. He was the first man to have my absolute full attention as well as the first male named Stanford in the Hensley family.
The last. I once believed he would be the very last man, I’d ever give my heart. Sixteen-year-old me never would’ve believed our future to be otherwise. There are days when I wonder how we got so far away from the two over-the-moon, lovesick teenagers we once were.
Thinking back, the seven of us never would’ve believed we could’ve ever gone our separate ways. If a person asked any one of us, each member would’ve responded “never going to happen. Even going as far as stating how inseparable we were, and nothing would ever tear us apart. We were Daire, Blaze, Ryder, Cynt, Nee, Tuck, and Coma. The Magnificent Seven of Fillmore High School. Before that, we were the Midas Crew of Dalton Junior High.
That seems like a lifetime ago. I have different friends and a whole new life now. Instead of trying to find someone to share my life and my bed, I spend time with men who get paid to be with women.
I feel like I tried dating at one time, and it didn’t feel right. I look at the process now and there’s too many opening for complications. Questions are asked and expectations need to be managed. It’s more than I’m willing to deal with at this time in my life. Instead, I hang out with guys who have no expectations. They have a goal of having fun and moving on.
I lucked up one night and stumbled across a bar where a nice group of guys told me they regularly hang out. Long nights of “entertaining” some wealthy women with no “finish” makes the guys open for my type of fun.
I don’t do it often. I’m not a regular. Just when I need to take the edge off. Considering most of them don’t do much for me than help me to have the occasional “happy ending”, I don’t go around that often.
That’s my secret. I’m fine with it. Not everyone is, but I don’t care. For now, it’s what I need and how I deal.
Why was I even thinking about that?
Oh, right. Journee asked me last night if I’d ever been in love. I told her I had. I also told her I wasn’t able to talk about it with her yet. That’s a lot to unpack and she didn’t have the time for it last night. She’d been getting ready for a date.
Me? I remained at home, watchingHuluuntil I fell asleep. Of course, I dreamed of the past and times with the M.S.O.F. and my “other half” all night. To the point I went rummaging through my things trying to find any of the t-shirts we had made or even the jacket. I couldn’t find any of it.
“Crap. I’m going to have to call her.”
I haven’t really spoken to my mother. We don’t have the best relationship. My mother isn’t and hasn’t ever been the typical mother. I think she got pregnant for the sake of pleasing her husband. It had nothing to do with love or wanting to pass on a piece of herself. She did it because she didn’t want him to toss her aside like an old newspaper. My mother enjoyed decorating my room and dressing me up more than ever did spending time with me.
“A lesson I learned the hard way,” I mutter the words to myself as I turn on some music.
I don’t know what I’m going to do with a day of nothing to do. I’m dancing around in my watermelon print pajamas. Movement out of the corner of my eye causes me to jump back knocking my lamp onto my bed. I notice it’s Journee as I move to put the thing back on my nightstand.
“You scared the shit out of me. what are you doing home?”
I turn the music down to a much lower level so I can hear her.
“I was trying to get some sleep before my late shift, but my roommate and friend has decided she needs to have a dance ... party,” she informs me with an added yawn at the end. “What the heck are you doing up ...? what time is it? I’m too tired to open my eyes enough to see your clock.”
“It’s 8:52.”
“Right. You’re usually up at this hour. don’t have a list or something quieter to do?”
I snort as I look at her satin and lace floral print.
“Don’t you have company to entertain?”
I waggle my eyebrows, but it’s lost on her since she’s looking at me through slitted eyes. Her messy hair falls into her face as tilts her head.
“I’d come up with some snide comment but that would take too much energy. Company or Steven wore me out last night and this morning. I have an hour to actually sleep. I love you but I will seriously hurt you if you wake me up again.” She slowly turns to walk out of my room. “Just an FYI, he’s somewhere in the house. I think he said something about finding his clothes so he can go to work. I can see your nipples.”
“No, you can’t,” I call after her exiting form.
“The rainbow nipple rings are cute,” she calls from her down the hall.
I immediately close the door and wait to hear the front door shut. When the alarm announces that it’s closed, I grab my phone from the nightstand and arm the alarm. I wait for a few minutes to see if I hear anything. When I don’t, I’m tempted to turn the music back up. If I didn’t know Journee as both the lovely, perky sweetheart at Hope House and the crazed killer Barbie I know at home, I’d try my luck. Since I do, I’m not even going there.
Once upon a time, I was just as dangerous. The M.S.O.F. weren’t known for being the kindest people. We weren’t purposely mean or rude, but we also weren’t the ones to pick a fight with either. We had each other’s backs and took care of the family that we’d created.
A family that is no longer linked. I miss them. I miss that time. I miss who we were to one another. I miss what we dreamed we’d become.
