( For virtuosity and to provide visuals as you read along, read all .gif illustrated online excerpt drops starring Yara Shahidi, Chloe Bailey and Halle Bailey. They we’re EXCELLENT! )
- EXCERPT DROP 1
- EXCERPT DROP 2
- EXCERPT DROP 3
- EXCERPT DROP 4
- EXCERPT DROP 5
- EXCERPT DROP 6
- EXCERPT DROP 7
- EXCERPT DROP 8
- FINISH THE ENTIRE BOOK (remainder of the book begins at page 290-from where excerpt 8’s drop left off)
( For a limited time, free of charge, read the entire book *And no…this is not a book of “fanfiction,” It is a true story )
(this entire published book – paperback and ebook for your Kindle, all smartphones and Pads – is on Amazon)
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- EXCERPT DROP 1
- EXCERPT DROP 2
- EXCERPT DROP 3
- EXCERPT DROP 4
- EXCERPT DROP 5
- EXCERPT DROP 6
- EXCERPT DROP 7
- EXCERPT DROP 8
- FINISH THE ENTIRE BOOK (remainder of the book begins at page 290-from where excerpt 8’s drop left off)
( For a limited time, free of charge, read the entire book *And no…this is not a book of “fanfiction,” It is a true story )
(this entire published book – paperback and ebook for your Kindle, all smartphones and Pads – is on Amazon)
────♦────────♦────────♦────────♦────────♦────────♦────
She was going through (yet again) another one of her “connection changes” around this time, and we hadn’t been talking too much (again) in I.M or Hell Mail. I had been in the chat room off and on and would pick up on conversations amongst her buddies-something really weird was going on, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Actually, I had been feeling like this the whole month because she was like, coming in and fucking me-then leaving me.
It was weird…
Date: Fri, 21 May 13:20 PDT
From:xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net
To: xx@fan.xxx
Subject: STILL hoping you’re ok
Just dropping you a line to let you know that I’m thinking about u and hope that everything is okay. You are my heart and I love you. Take care. I miss you like crazy…
She wrote:
I miss you too. I’m really mad about this situation but it looks like everything is going to be okay soon. Look after yourself for me. I love you. -J
My turn now.
In my next email, I wrote her a love letter that I sent as an attachment to the email I sent her. I felt so warm and fuzzy-I couldn’t help it. My nose was so wide open:
Date: Sun, 23 May 17:43pm PDT
From:xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net
To: xx@fan.xxx
Subject: FOR YOU
Okay baby. It’s written kind of small, but I was trying get it all on one page. I love you. Take care. (Attachment): *sitting with you face to face. I take my right hand and lift your chin up to look me in the eyes*
“Thinking about you and what you mean to me. I am writing this because it is filling my head and chest up and I need to get it off. I know we’ve covered much but I’m not sure if the many layers of the reasons why I love you have been unmasked, but it’s been heavily on my mind and I feel like I’ve got to get it off my chest (just in case it is not clear to you). Why do I love you? Well first, because I understand you and second because I care for you. You know… to be honest, at first I was mad and all that at the situation…because I just didn’t know quite why. But when it became clear to me, the love, understanding, and care I had for you as that person was the under layer of love, care, loyalty, understanding that I have for you now as a person, a human being, a woman and my girl ..
Yeah, had this been any other ordinary person or situation in my world would that I didn’t know, sure…I would have made a bigger deal of it. Even if it were someone else from your world, I still would have made an even bigger deal of it (considering the fact that I don’t really care about nobody else in your world’s “person” the way I do you)… But when that “person” had happened to be you (the one who I understand, love, and cared for); I was immediately taken aback because I felt kind of vulnerable. Because never in a million years had I even entertained the thought of something like this becoming the way it is now…When that happened, not only did I feel vulnerable at heart and mind, I was kind of torn because not only had I never entertained such a thought, I couldn’t then, and especially now, even entertain the thought of retaliating against you in no way, shape or form, which scares me to the bone and makes me feel even more vulnerable…
For that reason, I ask that you take care of MY heart, MY mind, and MY privacy (the way I take care of yours)…
Most important to me was that you learned something from me that you could use and benefit from. When it turned out to be that (and then some) that’s when I turned my attention to that “person,” (that I love, care for, and understand) to give my undivided attention to. When we got to know one another on a deeper level, that “person”-that human being, that woman, my girl, had also brought her inner person, private self, her trust and her vulnerability to me…
It was then that you-my girl-your person, the woman, the human being… made me worry when you worry, made me sad when you’re sad, made me mad when you’re mad, made me hurt when you hurt, and made me glad when you’re glad…
My goal? My objective? I can’t say that I necessarily have one, but I do know that I only want whatever you want. Right now, with all that we’ve gone through, I have to say that I do worry what (if any) problems I may have caused within your other friendships/relationships…
It’s been a rollercoaster…
I do want to assure you (and them-if I did) that my goal/objective was not to cause any harm or to hurt anybody. I worry so much (right now especially), about the pressure that I sense you are under right now…I know that they may worry about you and “risks” etc. but as I told you before, the fact that you and me have gone through all that we have, and because of all that I know you’ve risked to bring me your inner person, private self, your vulnerability, and your trust to me; that alone is enough for me to see to it (with all that I have inside of me) that you are never hurt by me: now or ever. Another thing that I want to make clear is that no matter what, even on the days that we don’t communicate, NEVER EVER EVER question the way I feel for you because it’s an automatic thing, even if we go our separate ways…
With things the way they are…I feel like I have to be skillful with the way that I express the love that I feel for you because everything is so “open” and when I love somebody, all that I feel (in words) is something that they are supposed to “wear” from head to toe, inside and out, and right now my everything (my feelings, my words) are like “everywhere” (make a big circle with your hands to see that visual)…
The one and only thing that gives me some sense of comfort is that I KNOW that you wear the love I express to you, and you KNOW it’s true and from my heart. I just want whatever is going on in your life, I be that one thing, and the one person that you never have to worry about, or look at with a third eye…
I just want that whatever ails you, hurts you or worries you, I just want to be the part of you and in you that makes you see, feel, and KNOW that no matter whatever else is going on in your life…I do love you and meant it when I said I did… I would never hurt you…
I feel that is only fair considering A) it is what I feel and is true from the deepest depths of my heart B) because you welcomed me into your life…just as I welcomed you into mine.
Do you agree? I love you–like no other.
You are my heart. Take Care…”
Love, Me.
She (merely) returned:
Thanks Sweetness I miss you so much im gonna print it out and read it on the way to work. I love you girl. -J…
It took a couple of days for her to respond to the letter and I couldn’t understand why. When I would go over to the room, the nickname: “eTrust” would drop down at me. That gave me a clue as to what was taking her so long to respond to it. If she were to respond to the letter, it would put her in a position to prove that she actually trusted me because although my letter was indirectly written, it was directed at and for her-Janet. And only she and I (and her friends and digerati) would understand exactly the meaning behind every word written in it. Furthermore, they (her digerati) knew that strange things can begin when opening up pic or document attachments via email (I sure do-thanks to them), so just to be safe; I’m sure they were quarantining my lil’ attachment—just in case…
She finally replied:
Hey baby I’ve been doing some things, I’m sorry I haven’t been around for you, but I wanted to write and tell you as soon as I could that I was so happy when I read what you wrote. I mean, it was so beautiful and I know you weren’t trying for that too…I hope you are feeling me.
Because I know you were speaking from your heart and you really touched mine. *putting my hands in yours* I’ll be home as soon as I am able my Angel. I love you -J
From my CD Rom while sitting in my black comfortable Futon chair, I was listening to “Reason,” “Don’t Be Afraid,” “All This Love” (and “Kissing You” from the Waiting to Exhale Soundtrack) all by Faith. I then began listening to “Sensuality”/”Make Me Say It Again Girl” by the Isley Brothers. I was so in love with her-I cannot lie.
I wrote back:
Date: Wed, 26 May 03:52am PDT
From:xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net
To: xx@fan.xxx
Subject: (no subject, just smile…LoL)
Well, I always write what’s on my head and my heart and yeah I am feeling u. I really don’t know what else to say except that I’m happy. *looking at the news–ANYWAYS, thanks for checking in (even though you are “busy” aaagain) *sighs* You are my heart. Take care. Love you, and miss you…
She had checked into I.M to talk to me for a second, but she “couldn’t talk long,” (again). She just wanted to tell me how much she couldn’t get the letter off her mind and how she kept saying, “aaawww” the whole way through reading it-all teary eyed. I was just happy that she liked it and understood exactly what I was trying to say to her. I was so wide open for her:
Date: Wed, 26 May 18:36pm PDT
From:xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net
To: xx@fan.xxx
Subject: *pouting
Man!!!!!! U keep my lip poked out! I MISS you! (and that exclamation point is for pouting reasons, not excitement!) *rolling my eyes I love you, so much…
It always seemed to cause problems if anything with anybody [outside of my house/household duties and other than my doing what I had to do by myself-like workout, run, work, or school] showed up in my life commanding my time. It would be hard to get back on track with her because sometimes, and (especially depending on who it was) she would get very passive-aggressive. I could literally spend hours getting her to warm back up to me. She was stubborn like a mule and could outwait your patience with ease because she knew that I knew if I dared excused myself, it would be twice as bad at return-so, it was like-take your pick: now or later (whichever I felt I could handle).
When I got back from lunch with Shauntay, I headed straight to the room before I could even get settled into the house good. “Stormy1” came down asking me my name and whether I was male or female and where I was from, (the usual norm, “just in case” precaution-just in case Shauntay was sitting there with me, and too, even if she wasn’t with me-just to upset me because she knew I hated that. She didn’t care about my upset when I allowed myself to be uprooted from tending to her).
The Stormy1 said to me: “I’m from the city in California where the garlic festival is held every year…where are you from?”
“Gilroy California?” I was thinking to say to the Stormy1 but I knew this “Stormy1” chose to use “the garlic festival” to relate it to mine and Shauntay’s lil’ afternoon “garlic festival” we just had.
“Cinamon, where is your partner in crime?” asked the Stormy1 (she just wanted to know if Shauntay was with me-watching the screen).
“Shauntay?” I asked, (Stormy1 did not respond).
I continued: “Well, she went back to work Hun,” I assured.
“Oh okay,” she replied.
Now she was ready to remove her mask and put her guard down:
“Cinamon, do I know you? *wink* LoL,” said the stormy maniac.
I laughed and said: “Man I swear, you are a mess!”
“Don’t SWEAR at me,” said Janet-who hated for me to use that word. (I laughed again thinking about how clever this woman was).
So that she could feel secure that Shauntay was not around me (like she wondered), I reassured her that Shauntay had a client to see at 2:45 p.m.
She didn’t have too much to say to me-she just…left-logged off. I emailed her:
Date: Thu, 27 May 04:43am PDT
From:xxxxxxxxxmon@netscape.net
To: xx@fan.xxx
Subject: TIT for TaT LoL!
You call yourself mad at me again? Been checking for you to no avail. Oh well, here we go again…
────♦────
Later, Janine needed me to come get her so I could drive her to the airport to catch her flight to Cancun and meet up with some of her groupie friends for the groupie weekend after the Playoffs. Before I left, I checked in with Janet, because I was gonna be gone for a while. She had an email for me:
Girl I’m so sorry you must know how much I hate being like this, I love you too. You are to me like a book unopened…the story yet untold and you are deep in my heart. -J.
She had a reason for saying that. In my real world that day, life and school was overwhelming me. Over the telephone I was sharing something with Janine that was weighing heavy enough on my head that it couldn’t wait until we next saw each other in person. I hated to be in a moment or in my feelings about something and be on the telephone talking about it, because although I insisted on not curbing my conversations regardless of Janet’s “overhearing,” I hated to let her hear me share anything with anyone else that (as a punishment to her overhearing), I refused to share with her.
No matter how bad she yearned to share my joy, sadness, madness or burdens, and no matter how warm and fuzzy with a nose wide open I was feeling for her, I would never 
My “A)” and “B)” promises to myself were the only pieces power I had, and had control of at this point. If my happiness, sadness, madness or joy had to do with me and her, or something I wanted to share with her (not heard from my phone line); fine-we could talk about it. But anything else she “overheard,” was strictly off limits. I would make sure I gave off the kind of energy to let her know that too. I didn’t care who the hell she was or how much I loved her-I meant what I meant. I had to maintain some sense of personal dignity with all that she had taken from me thus far, while I got nothing from her but whatever she felt like giving (whether I liked it or not).
So as a punishment; even if she overheard I was sad and having a bad day, or happy and having a good day; I made it a point to still pick up where she and I left off, as if my own personal, real world was another different story (and it was-until I met her)…
I wrote back:
Date: Thu, 27 May 17:47pm PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: Crazy for you.
Man, that is sooooo sweet. I love you so much. I love learning new things about you everyday. I love learning all your thoughts and reasons why…That feels really good. I love the fact that we share “us” with nothing to hide. That turns me on about u, makes me more comfortable. I’m loving and thinking about you everyday and I always want you to know that. PLEASE don’t ever doubt it. I’m just gonna check email for u until I find that you’re back on. I love u.
Date: Fri, 28 May 03:55am PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: You’re too much for me…!
Just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you all day everyday and loving you. Hope everything is okay with you, stay my baby, will you? *pointing at u* U are my heart…*pointing at me* ttyl
Sunday late afternoon she hadn’t signed into I.M, so I went in the room.
“Stormy1” appeared after me.
“Hello Cinamon,” she said.
“Hello Stormy1” I returned. We talked about a bunch of nothing for little while.
Then the Stormy1 says:
“So Cinamon, what are you doing this coming weekend?”
I replied: “Well, actually, this weekend there’s lots to do. We have this thing going on called the Taste…of…CIN…NastyNati LoL.”
“LoL,” said the Stormy1.
Without announcing her departure or logging onto I.M to talk to personally, she just logged out.
It was weird-something was going on and I could not put my finger on it. Whatever it was she was going through (or doing) at this time put a strain on what we had going on. It seemed like the entire month of May, she only came into I.M to fuck, or come into the chat room to make plans to fuck. I had so many emotions going through me at this point because with her, she could be mad at me for a number of things and she expected me to take a guess at what it could be (which could have been a whole sleuth of things considering the goings on coming out of telephone conversation between me and my homegirls).
Finally, she sent me a short email indirectly confirming that she indeed was going through something and concluded it with a quote that read: “time has a wonderful way of weeding out the trivial, absence makes the heart grow fonder…growing fonder of you every day.”
That something that she was going through had nothing to do with a connection change…she was simply: “busy”…and it didn’t seem like a good kind of busy.
That quote actually bothered me-so much so, that I wasn’t sure how to take it, and wondered if she even understood it. I wanted her on I.M to explain it to me so badly because it kind of hurt me. No-it really hurt me: bad. Because I was feeling like I was losing her and didn’t know why. I mean, the way everything was set up was like, if she decided one day she wanted to go on about her way, all I could do was…be: left. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t have an option to just leave her, nor did I have any of the options she had from the start.
So I wrote:
Date: Sun, 30 May 19:05pm PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: Growing Fonder
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder” is like one of those sayings that I’ve always felt held true for those kinds of couples who are sick of one another in one way or another, and need some time apart.
Perhaps when days go by, it’s only then that they decide that they miss one another and then that saying takes it place between them. Once the fondness that they express after being absent from one another (for however long) is done and over with, they turn back to each other and pick up on the problems they had that made them chose to spend time apart. Sort of like, getting drunk to forget all the problems you have. When they become sober, it’s like back to square one again. When two people really love one another, being apart makes them just as crazy as the love and passion they feel when they are together. You know? That’s how I like to love…I love you…and am growing fond of feeling that way about you every day, like no other. Now have a nice day.
I was so smitten with her and missing her like crazy. I wrote her the next day:
Date: Mon, 31 May 17:50pm PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: is everything okay with you?
Just wanting to know because I miss you. I don’t like how I’m feeling! Anyways. I’ll stay in for a while, while I’m trying to put together a paper. I love you, and I really do miss you man, what’s up?…
June 1st morning, I was working on a paper for school when she started her shit again. 
She was playing around with my screen and would rearrange the title of the documents when I would get done with each paper. That pissed me off, so I ignored her and did not log onto I.M to talk to her (although I knew she was online). I didn’t log on because typically, if I was working on a paper [and not logged onto the Internet], or if I took too long to log onto I.M, or if I wasn’t on the computer at all (but she wanted to get me online); she would call my house and hang up-that would be my cue to get online and onto I.M with her.
This day however, although I wasn’t logged online (but rather-working on my paper while offline) she still knew I was the on the computer, and with that (like I said) her 
norm would be to call and hang up during the first ring, but this day, this time-she did not do that, so I really knew something was going on and that something was not good, because she hadn’t been fucking with my files since early into this (before she and I got close). The last person’s files she played around with and screwed up was my friend Janine’s, so this wasn’t a good sign.
With her in my life + school (and my life); I was too busy to write books, and when I found out she had remote access to my computer, I put all my files from my books into three different online “briefcase” files to drag to my laptop that I so badly needed, because no matter how much I loved her; I still had to stay on my toes with her because of the kind of access she had to me (because she wasn’t always predictable). She could (and would) flip on me at any minute and I would be the last to know why. She was the type to squeeze the trigger first and ask questions later and sometimes-it was all squeezing, no asking.
I can’t lie though, after her open letter, I was convinced of her love for me in a different way that made me put my guard down with her. I put my guard down with her so much so (and because we had been getting along so well) that it was my personal goal to finish up my second book between June 3 and June 21 (because I was going to be free from school during that time).
I planned on telling her what my personal goal was (so that she would “allow” me to work in peace). Despite the fact that we were getting along and I was putty in her
hands right about now, still, I did not feel comfortable with having her watch me do my work, writing live and in real-time as I typed each word from my mind. But like since the beginning; I had no choice. She craved virtuosity like a drug-addict needed a fix. Now that I found out she was indeed “Brie” and too, my knowing her (Janet’s) need to experience things in real-time; it all came together for me.
I remember “Brie” begging me to get that ICQ (I seek you) program so that she could watch me type each word, mistake, and re-type in real-time. After experiencing Janet, I ascertained that she was just sensual and intense like that. And although I didn’t bite the bait for “Brie,” Janet sure she got that damned program to me one way or another (whether I agreed to it or not).
One about thing Janet [that I was learning] was that she was going to get what she wanted, who she wanted, and no matter how much it cost—by any bizarre, illegal, inappropriate, evasive, or unusual means necessary. She doesn’t give two fucks what anybody else has to say about it, what anyone else goes through because of it, (or how they feel—about anything). Around this time, I was very emotional, and she kind of had my nose open in a different way since her open letter. And just when I would put my guard down and try to trust her, something bizarre would happen and steal that joy from me (to let me know that I shouldn’t). I wrote her:
Date: Tue, 01 Jun 14:06pm PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: Call it a year?
I miss u and I do love u. Just wanted to let you know that still stands…I dunno, u think maybe we should call it a year? I kinda do, because it’s too much for me-everything is really…I’m kinda ready to make like everything was nothing. I’d much rather do that than to have u in the position in my life that you’re already in, and I think it’s better for me as well. I hate trying to think for you, and read your mind between the lines and all. What if I’m wrong? That would be funny (smh). I’m just gonna quit while I’m ahead though for real. I love you and don’t ever forget it, or doubt it, I really do and always will, but just from afar, I hope you feel it. Take care. *Breathing again…
That got her attention:
Girl
I hope you didn’t think I wasn’t answering you on purpose. I received all your messages and I appreciated them. I suppose you are right, as sad as I am to say so I love you to Angela. Don’t ever be too far away ok? I wish I could write more to you. Love, Joanna
…She made sure she signed it: “Joanna” (rather than ‘J’) for a reason-just about as much as she meant every word in every syllable she wrote in it. She wanted to write more to explain, but absolutely positively could not. She was really and truly in the middle of something major and wanted me to give her some breathing room too-but just but leave one foot in the door for her return and at her convenience.
She made sure she made her way to I.M (while I opened and was reading it).
We talked around her situation that she was going through.
I then told her: “People kill me complicating things. The only thing that makes
relationships seem so complicated is the fear of removing things that bring peace of mind.”
She came back with: “Sometimes the less complicated way isn’t always the easiest way…”
I challenged: “But I thought you had so much shit under your control?”
She responded-in all seriousness, as if she was holding her index finger up and shaking her head in a serious and slow, left to right movement: “No…not this…This…is not under my control,” she insisted.
She quickly jumped over that with something else: “Say, why don’t you quit worrying, and think about what ahead is in store for you,” she wanted to assure me.
An unexpected jolt of tears shot to my eyes. My nose burned and began to run. I sniffed and said: “I want you…the right way…” I said to her, humming in my mind Marvin Gaye singing: “I want you. The right way. I want you, but I want you to want me too…”
She softened up for a minute as if she pulled the camouflage war helmet that she had been wearing, and for that moment; she remembered that I was the girl she claimed to be in love with-and wanted to place special emphasis on calling out my name-hoping I could feel her sincerity: “Angela. I know…I know EXACTLY what you are saying when you say that Angela…I am feeling you right now. You hear me?” she said seriously and compassionately, finishing the song in her mind too.
I held my head down and cried then replied: “I hear you.”
I was very confused and hurt as hell, and for the first time: scared-scared that I was losing her. That was the first moment in all this time that I knew for sure that I knew I loved her for more than my fear of all that she had on me, knew about me, could control, or ruin. Because none of that was on my mind-just her leaving me was all that was on my mind and made me cry.
She “couldn’t stay on long” (again)…I wrote her:
Date: Wed, 02 Jun 04:46am PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: (?)
I am just kinda tired and really like-dying on the inside cause I’m thinking for you and am still trying to think for myself. It’s like, I have a good feel for you and me and then again, the other side of me knows that there’s so much other stuff going on and all…and that’s the part that makes me crazy. I hate it when we “sneak and talk” and then I think about the things are probably going on with you on your end, and me knowing ME like I know me, it’s like-so unnecessary, however I DO understand. All day it’s on my mind and when I talk to you, I’m forced to just put it aside, but then I think, “why should I put what’s on my mind aside when she knows everything I feel about her anyways?” That drives me crazy. I DO love u and I really miss u all day EVERYDAY. The hardest part is missing u because I don’t want to miss u, I just hate it-just like I hate having to hide the things that I really feel inside all the time… I hate doing things that only make me look back and wish I hadn’t. The craziest part is that I can’t honestly say “I wish I hadn’t” but I’m feeling that way when I lay down at night. I dunno. I have so much running through my mind…
No, I don’t want you to feel pressured to write more than u are able to. I told you once before that I “want(ed) you the right way” and that’s what I meant. U told me u felt me and knew just what I meant when I said it and I know u did. But do something about it…
I love u like no other and that will never change. I hope u fully understand what I mean when I say that as well…
Love, ANGELA
I sat back in my comfortable Futon chair and inserted my Mariah Carey CD and we listened to “Breakdown”…again.
She decided to give me some rhythm. We’re in I.M. She’s a little dry, actually. I’m cooperating (as usual), hoping she would tell me what was wrong with her. Again, she said she was: “going through some things right now.”
“What things?” I asked. “Umm… let’s just say some…“legal issues,” she said-bluntly.
I didn’t respond. In my mind, from the tone of our conversation, I picked up such attitude in her energy that I really didn’t know how to respond to her, so I pretty much let her do all the talking. I only thought about her “legal issues” being the millions of dollars of debt she was to pay [her now, ex: Rene] so that he would not make good on his threats to expose her “secret bisexual lifestyle and insatiable appetite for pretty women” as well as other secrets about she and her family.
I sat there quiet-still.
She then disclosed to me that she was about “3/4th’s” the way into paying the [“legal issue”]’s debt and advised that I should “just chill out and understand.”
Still, I just: listened…
Next, she said: “Cinamon, how would you feel if I told you that I slept with someone else?” My heart dropped to the damned floor and my eyes got big. I sat up in my chair and responded: “*looking stupid.”
She then asked: “Well, how do you feel about it?”
Whatever she was going through, it made her either a different person, or the real person she was-come out. She wanted to hurt me, especially knowing (now) my truest feelings about her. In my mind, she can’t imagine the slap across the face I gave her. My hand was stinging from the thought of having done it. I could taste the anger from 
I dug deeper: “I don’t know, it’s just… “a thing” really, between you and me…if you really wanna know. It aint really nothing-a fling is all, I said, pouting and with my defenses up as usual, not wanting her to know that I was dying inside and crying over in the world from my side.
It worked, she replied: “No, it was more than that! It was more than that! It was a relationship,” she emphasized, italicized, and responded offensively-again.
Her use of past tense bothered me, the: “was a relationship” part-sounding as if it had already ended and never knew it. That killed the shit out of me, so I responded: “Well if you considered it a relationship, then you wouldn’t have done it with her, obviously you wanted her.”
“Well she is attracted to me, the time was right, and she was there. I have to send her home until November until my legal issues are over and we thought we’d fuck since we would not be seeing each other for a while,” she said-simply.
She was not lying and I know she wasn’t. I knew that “her” was someone who for a few years now; had been tight and under Janet’s employ, living quarters, and wing: Shawnette…and it wouldn’t be until a short time after this that my assumption about Shawn’s role in Janet’s life was what I originally thought. I knew this divorce of hers must’ve been getting ugly if Rene was pulling out all the stops and threw Shawn in the bag, too. I knew that if her people were uprooting Shawn from the nest and being nestled under Janet, it’s going down, and it had been going down (just like I thought-a long time ago).
I’ll never forget a picture that [one of Jan’s friend’s] had floating around some time ago. It was a picture of Shawn and Janet where upon staring at it-both of their energy oozed from that picture like I certainly can explain: It spoke volumes. They weren’t dressed provocatively at all, as a matter of fact Janet merely had on a t-shirt with JJ (from “Good Times”) pictured on the front of it, and she wore a sweater over top it. Shawn had on jeans, a white t-shirt and a sweater as well.
It was the way they struck the pose for the picture that spoke volumes and I know my conclusion of what I observed did not come from my imagination running away with me, because Janet and me hadn’t even been intimate at the time I first saw the picture-so my observation was with a clear head and heart. I just know what I felt when I saw it.
Both of them were sitting in an area of Janet’s house-like, in a big deep area of space of the room by a glass-block window. Shawn had Janet cuffed and covered by her leg in such a way that it was clear and evident that Janet was the submissive and Shawn was the dominant.
Shawn had her arm thrown around Janet such that it looked like Janet was her woman-her bitch-not just her friend. Shawn’s had this intense look on her face-which was turned away from the camera, but Janet (with two afro puffs in her hair) was actually looking at the camera. If you looked at the picture for even under a minute, you could tell that they fucked that day, well…you can tell that Shawn fucked Janet that day–something serious (with a thingy). It was a very intense picture that jumped right off the page…you could tell they were lovers.
I remember sitting there looking at the picture with my face turned up with the “stink-face” as I hummed out that one gossiping and signifying classic sound: “mmmmmmmmm.” It wasn’t a picture that Janet wouldn’t necessarily want out in public view. And although it wasn’t at all vulgar; it was very intense and very obvious-their relationship to one another-and who played what part (and on that very day, I might reiterate).
Even when Janet told me: “I came out to Shawn in 97” and when she told me (about me): “it was Shawn who first pointed out to me where you really did love me,” that picture, and their relationship [outside of Shawn merely being one of Janet’s dancers] crossed my mind, I just never said anything to Janet about my thoughts. I just took advantage that because of how Janet was with me (so overpowering and a bully about things); she had everything around her under her control (especially considering her money, and influence).
But turns out-not so much, because this strange twist of things was telling me that it’s about to be more where [out of the blue] this came from. And as she sat here and dropped this bomb on me, it was becoming clear to me now, how-as long as Janet kept me the submissive; everything with she and Shawn was cool. It wouldn’t be until much later in this, as Janet got deeper into me than Shawn expected, that Shawn would start making her place and presence in Janet’s life known-where she wanted me out, up and away. Janet’s being so into me so, was not a part of the plan. It was supposed to have been just like one of her other “flings.”
As I sat there, I could tell that Janet wasn’t talking to me sitting there alone-I could tell that Shawn was definitely around. She had a way about her whenever Shawn was around-a way like she would work hard to talk to me like she was uncaring and somebody just out to hit it. It would be totally fake, a complete about-face from the gentle, loving, and even possessive, jealous and crazy ways she would be all over me. When Shawn was near (or reading on) I could tell how she would purposely try to seem aloof and uncaring.
Considering how in control I thought she had over everything, I never would have thought I was being brought into no bigger a mess than her plugging into my life, my time, my heart, my phones and my computers-that now; a man is threatening to pull if she doesn’t pay up. And on the other side of the wall-a girl who probably thought I was going to be nothing more than Janet’s hit and quit (her usual). Shawn did not expect [for what I did not allow to happen in 3 hours] to turn into 3 days, into 3 weeks, into 3 months, and 3 more months past that and into years and tears. And as far as she was concerned; I was in the way-it’s been too long, and it’s 3 of us now. To add injury to incident, the man and the girl have more access to Janet and both know things about her; so they can control her. She just needed to control and watch over me-but tuck me away from Shawn (and him).
Obviously, if Janet was sending Shawn gone until November, then it’s something about Shawn and this “lifestyle” of Janet’s that too, is a part of this man’s claims. Me? My stray, nobody ass was already “away,” but if Shawn was a part of this scorned man’s claim, to further build it, I’m sure [early into this while “lurking],” he’s seen Janet and me carrying on in that room. But I’m nobody that he could further prove his claims because again-I’m already “away.”
In hindsight and with clear sight, I now know that Janet didn’t only do the things she did to me simply because she liked me; she had a reason, a vested interest, and a need to: To make sure I really was away—in any way that could cost her but assist him, and she did not want to take any chances on not knowing everything-all the way around and in every way that her money could afford to oversee…
Back to the matter of this little heart-rate o’ mine.
I sat in my comfortable black Futon chair thinking about this “goodbye fuck,” wondering if there were tears and passion, because female relationships are so much more intense than with men-especially with Janet. Everything with, of, and around her is intense-it just is—she is. I can’t explain it. I was hurt as hell deep down inside, but I never ever wanted her to know exactly how hurt and upset she would make me at times like this. I just wanted to smack her face so hard-I could taste doing it. There were no words that I could
post on the screen to describe how I would have screamed in her ear over the phone-no words whatsoever that if we were face to face, could describe how bad we damned sure would have been tussling. Kind of like how my thoughts were tussling at that moment. I was so hurt because not only was any of this none of my business, she should have been able to protect me from this part of her serious mess. Or maybe my feeling sad and pushed away forced her to bring out the truth.
Regardless, it was all coming together now. I thought about the smut mag that mentioned how Janet was sleeping with some friend of hers at the end of her tour and Janet and this “alleged” lover were virtually “inseparable.” Coming from a smut mag, I thought nothing much of it-and this was early and way before she and I started doing our thing.
I thought about a time just a couple weeks prior to this very conversation of ours, she and Shawn were sitting next to each other-how distant and different our conversation was; then Janet felt the need to announce that Shawn was around (I guess to let me
know that was why she was acting funny). I never questioned her, asked her, or said a thing about Shawn but out of the nowhere I remember she said to me: “You can’t be jealous of Shawn.”
Until I got hooked up with her, and involved with her and this world of hers; I really thought Shawn was just another employee/dancer-friend of hers. But through talking to her everyday, I learned more and more about Shawn: that if she wasn’t her lover, she was an extremely close friend who really was attracted to her-and that picture stained in my brain began to tell the tale.
So while I sat here in my comfortable black Futon chair listening to her tell me that she was sending Shawn home, and asking me if I would be mad to know that she slept with someone else, I had to ask questions and now, I had the right to ask-so I asked: “So are the two of you in love, or do you love her-this…”person” that you slept with?”
She responded: “LoL, she and I are not like me and you. She and I are like high-school girls, like…that kind of friendship. It’s just that the time was right so we took advantage of it.”
I really didn’t have much to say after that. I was looking so fucking stupid. I was really hurt and felt stupid for any emotion that I was feeling. All I knew was that I couldn’t do a damned thing about it-Jack-so getting upset was futile. I had thought back to our conversation when we first started to get to know one another and she told me about her one-night-stands with women.
I’ve never even had a one-night stand with a man, so, curious-I asked her to tell me how does a woman have a one-night-stand with another woman. She told me that she wouldn’t reveal the details but whomever the other person involved was; they would know that it was just a one-night-stand basically, nothing more or nothing less.
With that in mind, and this major bomb she just dropped on me; I had to stop and remind myself once again who she was to the world, and on the other side of the world of me: she was pretty much out of my league, despite the fact that she liked to escape and run away with me from within some other secret side of herself.
My plus was that I wasn’t one of those same girls. I didn’t allow myself to let her get at me in 3 hours, and didn’t get excitedly overwhelmed with her simply because of who she was. She just happened to have chosen me: who just happened to force her to slow her “role” this time. But still with all that in mind, I’m just “AN-GEL-A”: another one of the many that had been called and chosen few.
I can’t lie. I was an emotional basket case that day. I sat back in my comfortable black Futon chair and put my “Jade” CD on, removed all track listings except for: “Don’t Walk Away,” and “5-4-3-2 Yo’ Time Is Up” and just listened to it.
────♦────
Like I promised myself, I would be minding my business and tending to my goal of working on my books from June 3-June 21 while I was off from work and school, until summer classes started back up again. I was prepared to leave her alone and let her go 
on about her way-doing whatever it is she felt she had to do. Considering how she put the brakes on this thing of ours and put it in reverse, I at least thought she would give me that same peace and respect.
June 7 back in my own little world, and what once upon a time was my own little computer; Janet started her shit up again: fucking with my shit, keeping my shit, rearranging my shit and sending Normal.dot and W97M.Ethan.A viruses to it and such. I thought I was about to go crazy. It had been so long since she did anything like this and the flashbacks drove me up a wall.
My “love” was officially back to being a love bizarre. I was livid, so I emailed her:
Date: Mon, 07 Jun 17:58pm PDT
From:xxxxxx@netscape.net
To:jj@fan.xxx
Subject: Now u done pissed me the fuck off
I was trying to be mindful by leaving you to you, and I at least thought you would leave me to me! I’m trying to do MY fucking work on MY OWN FUCKING computer, now this shit again! I REALLY do not feel like going through this same stuff from like months ago. I’ve been laying low and minding my own fucking business. Let me! I get time on my FUCKING hands to do some shit I NEED TO DO AND THIS SHIT STARTS BACK UP AGAIN!!!!!!!!!Whatever the problem is certainly can’t get anything resolved like this!!!!
She knew that she wasn’t going to be reaching out to me in I.M or email, and she also knew that I was not going to come over to her room. That June 2nd day that she pressed pause and put this thing in reverse was the last time I planned on dealing with her ever again. I was clear and piecing together everything I needed to know (and did not want to know).
I guess after five days, she knew that I meant business about going on with mine-but knew that I was in the middle of working on what she knew was very important to me. And she knew that would summon me to her room but I refused to go there. She didn’t reply back to my email but decided to go the old fashioned route to say something that she knew would catch my attention because she knew she lost that luxury with me.
Through that same Netscape Composer program from way back in the beginning of this before we had gotten close (where you could go behind the page in HTML and change any part of the front page script that you wished too); in that same area from way back in the beginning of this where she changed the paragraph to “”You’re witty, so is she. Let the quips fly,” this time, she changed it to: “Your Netscape email loves you unconditionally…”
For a minute I laughed. Because as senseless as the line sounds, she and I knew what it
meant. And if we were having a less serious fight about our regular trivial things that we would normally fight about; that to me, would have been cute because she was clever in calling out to my attention: one of our deepest conversations about unconditional love. And she knew that I knew that my Netscape email account that we were using was set up by her people. So, that cryptic line was cute (and witty)…but just not this time. I just wanted her to go away.
I was done playing “Connect the Dots” with her and insisted on not getting caught up into her web of secrecy, fuckery, and manipulation anymore. Although I knew that she did what she did to me for reasons that she couldn’t explain to me, I didn’t care anymore-I just wanted her to go away! It was way too much red tape with her and every step of the way, I stayed sticky with my yellow (caution) tape, because of.
She wanted me back in that damned room of hers, but I refused to go.
So she turned up a notch-her being able to remotely manipulate my computer. And I wrote her-same day, different time:
18:11pm PDT
Subject: Now you’re getting ruthless
Look, now I’ve had two of my fucking files deleted. Now, this is really getting out of hand and I am about to start feeling really disrespected. You need to be ashamed of yourself. How would you like it if somebody came into YOUR shit and deleted your MUTHAFUCKIN LYRICS?! Don’t piss me off any further please. P.S-Somebody needs to be getting my shit back over to me ASAP…
She still never responded, so I sent another that same day, different time. I was for sure this one would get her attention:
18:25pm PDT
Subject: ?????????????????????????????
JANET………………………………give me my shit man you are being so fucking disrespectful. I can’t believe u are doing this to me all over again!. I WOULDN’T HAVE EVER done anything to hurt or disrespect u in this way. Why are u doing this to me?
She didn’t respond or release the files. I sent another one-same day, different time:
18:32pm PDT
Subject: ???
Why are u testing my patience? What did I do to u? What did I EVER do to YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why are being so disrespectful? U want me to talk to u? I will! I’m in…
“In” meant I.M, not her room (where she wanted me to show up). She did not, and could not get on I.M. but figured she’d keep fucking with my files until I broke and showed up on her turf-I refused. I wanted her gone and didn’t care to hear no more of her bullshit, lies and fuckery. I sent email:
18:46pm PDT
Subject: .
I wish u would tell me why u are mad at me NOW. I didn’t do anything to u. Can we talk? I really DON’T feel like going through this same shit from earlier this year. I can’t take that again. What’s the matter?
She still didn’t respond. I sent another one, same day, different time:
19:02pm PDT
Subject: ok
After all this shit I’ve been through with you, I can’t believe u would fuck with my shit. What did I do to you? I told you I will talk to u –I came to I.M and you didn’t show. U are being sooooo fuckin unfair. PLEASE I’m really trying keep my cool and be patient with you. I can’t do it no more.
She still did not respond. I sent this one, same day, different time:
19:19pm PDT
Subject: you are terrible
It’s terrible that u would take advantage of the fact that I wouldn’t do anything to retaliate against you and shit. It’s terrible that u would behave like this and take advantage of that. WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU? WHAT? I’ve been patient with all this shit I took from you for MANY months and Sundays and u start back in while I’m minding my OWN FUCKIN BUSINESS, trying to get MY shit done and u snatch it!!!!!!!!!! WHY??? PLEASE send it back. I don’t have time to be here like this all night. Girl u are really hurting me. My chest is so fucking busted up.
That got her attention. I think she took that as a threat or warning of a threat (although it wasn’t).
She showed her ass up in I.M then. She spoke ominously:
“So Cinamon…tell me something…What…made you call me Janet?” she asserted.
I can’t lie-I sat there with my heart pounding a mile a minute because I could tell that it pissed her off and most probably made her paranoid-thinking that I was doing what she and her digerati were working overtime trying to spearhead and avoid: Me setting her up.
In the greater scheme of things, I knew my place was no match for her and the things she could do to make shit hard for me. So I humbled myself and played along: “I was about to come to the room and was probably thinking about Janet and got it mixed up with your name: Joanna, that’s all.”
“Oh? Oh really? Okay…mmkay…” was all she said-but most probably meant those words as my warning-wondering why and how I grew the balls to mention her real name. And although it was probably against the advice of her buddies, she thought she would just pay me a quick visit to sit on those balls I had grown. She had no concern about what I was feeling, or how I was feeling-at all.
She was just pissed and concerned about her “big” self.
I was so hurt. I really wanted to tell her how hurt I was.
I was so tired of how everything went her way-everything.
I made god on what I lied about. I showed up in the room and in addition, logged onto I.M. She came into I.M.
She wasn’t mean nor was she nice. We talked about a bunch of nothing while she told me she was listening to some music.
“What are you listening to?” I asked. She threw this response out there to try and soften and soothe me (and because she knew that I knew that she knew as well, “Jade’s” CD was the last CD I played in my CD Rom).
She replied: “I’m listening to: ‘Don’t Walk Away’ by Jade,” she said (really meaning those words, and knowing I would catch what she meant). I rejected the gesture and replied: “Yeah, I like that song and ‘5432 Yo Time is Up…’”
She didn’t say anything; it just got quiet.
She struck back-picking up where she last left off (about that damned Shawn): “So yeah, Cinamon, we have a relationship…but it’s kind of an open relationship, so, she’s not going to mind if I see you. I see you in a different way…”
I already knew what she meant by: “in a different way:” Shawn’s request that she kept me the submissive and that I not touch Janet the way she was doing.
She continued to explain:
…“And although I’ll be committed to her, I can still fool around with you since you and I cannot have a relationship. I still want to know if we can get together and fuck. I know you’re not going to agree with that, but I thought I’d ask,” said this wild ass woman.
Of course I didn’t reply.
We both sat there for a long time, saying nothing to one another. I don’t even remember who logged out first-probably me, because that girl knew how to outwait you and out-persist you no matter what. And she would show me better than she could tell me-in due time…
4
SLOTH
────♦────
- disinclination to exert oneself; indolence; slowness; delay
“I could probably give a thousand all-true reasons why the sloth I displayed in doing what took me forever to do: prepare myself for the worse, was so. I think that in my mind (and why belabor the obvious) my heart-I kept telling myself that because of the good and exciting; all that was bad in this thing was all just a bad dream that would soon blow over and out of the way of the sunset awaiting to be ridden off to.”
Of course Janet got her way. For the rest of the June month, we did most of our talking in her room rather than I.M (I guess until her “legal issues” were ironed out).
They weren’t taking any chances-at all. Just like the new “rule” was posted earlier into this (that you could no longer lurk without signing in first-during the time when Janet and Rene’s issues had been made public and it was announced that he would not be returning to the room) her digerati had yet another new “rule”: Everybody could only use three different nicknames (as opposed to the unlimited number you could use before)…
At this point in the game, that chat room was a full-on operation like “New Jack City”’s / Nino Brown’s goons running the motherfucking Carter.
Let Janet control it, wha’en no motherfucker going to take her down. Sure, she liked, loved, and lusted me but she stayed watching and looking at, into and around all things connected to me-just in case-while amid her upcoming case.
They were always up to something. Despite getting her pleasure principles on with me-they were obviously making sure they kept Janet and themselves bulletproof ‘in the event of_____.’
They knew that Rene was a chronic lurker and had seen more than his share of things that may and could be held against Janet (from knowing who was who hidden behind whatever nickname used. He knew everything-like I did-in that regard). So the bait and switch game was a necessary real. They knew I would lurk without signing in too, but for no other reason but to observe (or wait for J).
So when they put a stop to lurking without officially signing in, I knew they were making sure to be on alert when Rene entered so he wouldn’t get any more information about what Janet does in her room-to be used against her. Their putting a limit on how many nicknames you could use was something that definitely didn’t concern me, because I had only used one since the very beginning: “Cinamon” but I guess they couldn’t be too sure, considering all that was going on right now.
They were in the middle of consolidating and dotting all I’s and crossing all T’s–for reasons- but I knew the new rule didn’t apply to Janet and her crew-because they were going to be the ones in need of overkill on nickname usage, and I guess they needed to be in total control of that being so. Considering the fact that (while whatever was going on was going on) anything Janet and me would need to say to each other for however long; it was going to be necessary for them to have Janet to continue to drop down nicknames like: “lovestruck”-to express her enchantment with me and other nicknames of endearment or disenchantment when she wanted to say things to or about me-all without any rhetoric being posted afterwards. All “in a name” is what’s in the [nick]name and they, she, me (and Rene) knew the game.
Crazy Lissa was up to her same old self. I came in one afternoon, and she some of the usual suspects were having a conversation. When I entered, I ((((Lissa)))) and she acted as if she didn’t see the hug I gave her. Instead, she turned to the others and said: “Boy o boy, she done got kicked out of Malibu and now she’s walking around bamboozled, hoodwinked, and bedazzled by this one! Smh.”
Everybody *LoL (laughed out loud).
I knew they were making fun of Janet, because part of her settlement with Rene was to check in the keys to the Malibu home [that she never returned to after the tour anyways]. The part about Janet being bamboozled, hoodwinked, and bedazzled by me was something that (little did they know) was a safe place and thing to be with me because I didn’t have any tricks up my sleeve. I was on the up and up with her.
I listened on to see what was next.
Lissa still never spoke back to me, and no one else spoke to me either. It was like all of their backs were turned to me, purposely.
Then Lissa finally turned around and spoke to me and she said to her audience: “Can you see her walking into a store with her eyes looking up all bedazzled telling the store clerk: “Excuse me, excuse me, can you PLEASE give me a pack of Kool-Aid, the RED KIND please!”
They all started laughing out loud again-that was supposed to be some kind of inside joke about my complexion and Janet’s occasional use of referring to [my] “red ass” during sexsions.
“There you go starting trouble again Lissa, there you go,” I said.
She and the rest of them turned around to look at me, still, without saying one word to me. Lissa continued: “Uh oh y’all we better scurry on, here comes the crab-the RED LOBSTER! Y’all better watch your step. A crab is crawling around! ‘Get off of my crab!’ she mimicked, probably something [Janet] said in some way or another-Lissa was just being creative by her knowing Cancer (the crab) is my astrological sign.
The bottom line to all this silliness was one thing that I could appreciate: Janet obviously told them not to say anything to me if she wasn’t around-not even “*****gone,” because obviously Janet wasn’t around, and the norm (for them) was to post: “*****gone” if Janet was indeed gone. But this time, they didn’t post that.
They all quit talking and laughing out loud, then logged out one by one without announcing their departure.
Next, “Duchesse” logged in: “Duchesse,” who claimed to be a French writer, was talking about her French novels. Somebody else was asking her about her agent, writings, and publishing deals and all. They loved to carry on improv-type conversations of various kinds whether it be to mock me (or Janet), or something to do with my writing, my life, my conversations on my telephone-any and everything they could get their eyes and ears on was used as material and fair-game on their turf (this room), which was totally under their control.
Everything (every nickname, or dialogue) was used to tell a story, warn, inform, scorn, or converse and feed on. This was like a form of exercise for them and seemed to give them a lot to do to pass time. They knew how to do what they do, and when Janet was around-they (and she) knew how to do it such that they could differentiate herself (and the nicks she would use) from them and aside from their nicks (like how we they did early into this). It wouldn’t be too long before I found out just how this all was so easy to do—away from all outsiders who weren’t apart of this thing…
The next afternoon I’m in the room, and “NappyNik” came in after me and began to carry on a conversation with somebody else about her woman, and how she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into her neck while she’d place her face against the wall and watch her go crazy. “NappyNik” started talking about all the sexual things [that I liked and how I liked it]. I just watched and didn’t say a word. I wasn’t supposed to. At the end of her lusty conversation with her buddy, she goes on to tell her: “I know she probably thinks I’m crazy, but I’m gonna tell her: ‘It’s not that I’m crazy, I’m just crazy about YOU!’ when I’m going down on her…”
I just looked at that maniac while sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair. A big chill went through my body making me shake my head-wondering what the hell I got myself into. Janet always seemed to have a whole lot of intense sexual energy that could even crack a computer screen-imagine in person…
I left and came back later. As soon as I entered, “NappyNik” came in, again, right after me and stood at the door watching me talk small talk to a few people. I turned around and looked at her but I did not speak, neither did she. I just wondered and she-just watched…
That same night, I was cleaning up around my desk and listening to my music on my CD Rom playing the track listing of my Windows Media Player. Anita Baker was singing to me: “Body and Soul.”
All of a sudden, a series of 3’s rolled across the “Artist’s Name” field where I programmed the tracks from the CD into my computer’s CD Rom. 
At first I thought I was seeing things, but how soon I forget how much control over my computer Janet had whether I was on or offline, and this particular time I was not online. “Body and Soul” just so happened to be track #3, so I knew for sure it was Janet-bored and wanting some attention.
Nothing was too far fetched when it came to this serious and intense woman. I guess she must have been ingesting the words to the song like I was. Although she was across the globe, she already knew that I was ingesting the lyrics, and I guess she was 
hungry too. I just shook my head and giggled knowing the answer (now) as to how so very ironic it was that when we would be in the room, whatever songs I would be playing; I would notice conversations going on about those very same songs that I would be playing on my CD Rom when I entered the room. They (and Janet) never cared about how senseless whatever it was they would be talking about-may have sounded; their point was: they always wanted me to know that they were in the real-time know about everything-period. But for Janet, in addition to that, she required a kind of virtuosity in a kind of way that she wanted to be able to sip whatever I absorbed and ingest it like through a straw and into her body.
When “Pink” first came onto the scene, I proclaimed to be the first “Pink” fan and played her first CD until it practically began to play backwards and speak in tongue; Janet became a chronic “Pink” fan too. She did me one better and met then took a picture with her-complete with her jean jacket and pink fur around the collar. She wanted to be at one and t.h.e.e one with being in the know with all things that I liked, loved, or knew. She wanted to be in my thoughts and if she could; my DNA.
One time they were in the room talking about my big ole’ butt-teasing me, and somebody started singing a song called “DaButt” by EU off the “School Daze” soundtrack. I then mentioned how much I was in love with the song that was on the soundtrack called “Perfect Match.”
(I always wanted to fuck to that).
Before I could post who it was by, Janet had turned to Lissa and asked her about it. Lissa returned: “It’s on the ‘School Daze’ soundtrack.” I could feel Janet bust out of the room and out to the store to go get it-oh, I forgot-one of her assistants went to get it, and probably a whole list of other songs that she heard me play from my CD Rom so that we could ingest lyrics together from across the globe for an even better sense of virtuosity. She was like that, every step of the way and well, I can’t lie, I liked that she felt that way about me enough to want to get in to me as far and as deep as she could. That part of overhearing is something I could appreciate. I wanted her to love and want me, because I loved her too.
────♦────
Speaking of overhearing and talking.
In the room, I was talking to my Virgo friend, Chris (from earlier this year-the one who would bug me to death about astrology and his relationship with his lil’ Scorpio boyfriend). This particular day, “Chris” wanted to talk about astrology and my moon sign in particular: Taurus. His conversation was cryptic and for a reason-some reason having to do with Janet’s Rene but I couldn’t quite understand what it was he was trying to say. He’d thrown in something about “a guy” whose birthday just happened to be the same day as Rene’s: July 16.
(Mincing words was the name of this game-so as to go around getting at what they saying. They felt it was safer for everybody on that side-considering who else may be looking on and their considering who may have been watching on my side-just in case).
I could tell that he was trying to get at something where his whole purpose for wanting to talk about my moon sign being Taurus was so that in this conversation, we could place Janet there subliminally. He would start saying things to let me know that he too was one of Janet’s crew, (rather than just some random dude from the room that I originally thought he was), and just to trigger my belief in what he was saying; while sitting there in my comfortable black Futon chair, my Antivirus program was triggered and set to run as if I had manually opened it to run a virus scan (and I didn’t). The report read:
Date: 6/25 Time: 20:06:12, angela on DEFAULT
Virus scanning completed.
Items scanned: C:-D: F: H:
My mouth hung open-once again. I laughed and shook my head. No viruses were found this time. Janet just liked letting me know that she could manipulate and
“Chris” asked if I would call him that night so that we could talk: “Cin, do you want to talk to me?” he posted. He then waited 15-20 seconds for that post to completely disappear from the room’s screen then posted the next question, finishing with: “…On the phone?”
When I saw that, I knew Janet was somewhere hiding behind this lil’ setup for sure, craving virtuosity.
Next, the nickname “MuzikWrita” rolled down as the person behind it asked: “Cinamon, do I know you?…” emphasizing and italicizing ‘I.’ My brows lifted at this point, because that was how “Stormy1” would always address me when she came down after me in the room, and would we constantly use ellipsis’ (…) when we would talk (no matter the “character”). For us, it represented either: seriousness, sentiment, anger, humor, and we’d use them when we would sex, or to simply mean: “to be continued…”
I was still trying to catch on to this subliminal conversation, then the “MuzikWrita” told me that I would be getting an email with the phone number in it that I was to call. When I got it, it was a copy of a very old email from earlier in chat, where I had responded to Chris the time he was asking me for advice on his relationship with his Scorpio boyfriend. The confusion I had, sort of lifted and my brow relaxed when I pieced together Chris’ email address: xxxxx@hotmail.com, with the nickname that had just rolled down called “MuzikWrita.” I knew that my lil’ friend Chris was in some way affiliated with “the music writer” herself for sure-then.
I scanned the busy email-looking for the phone number-and could not find it at all.
“xxx-x66-0751” was hidden; located within some part of the email in the middle of one of the sentences of the busy email’s paragraph. I came back into chat: “I got it,” I said.
“Ooh I’m so EXCITED!” said “MuzikWrita.”
“Well, I can call now, which means we would have to stop talking in an hour or so because I have to go and do something in an hour, or I could go do what I have to do now, so that I can hurry back and call you within this hour, then we could talk for however long we want.” I offered.
“Yes, that one!” said “MuzikWrita.”
Then the nickname: “Star50won” rolled down.
I didn’t know what *51 meant where she was at, but in my city, we use *82 to reveal our name and number when calling someone who wished to see who was calling them; as I am sure that was what she wanted me to do-reveal my name and number to the caller ID box I would be calling. I just laughed and hurriedly did what I had to do so get I could back home because I was “EXCITED” too.
When I got back in and settled with all that I had to do at home, I climbed up into my bed and got under the comforter. I took a deep breath and called the number. The [person] on the line was a guy: Chris. He sounded like he had a touch of some kind of disability that caused his speech to slur somewhat. I didn’t know if it was to disguise his voice or if he really talked that way, but I continued to talk to him-waiting for Janet to “ease” onto the phone. I couldn’t wait, but I kept my cool.
We sat up and talked about the room, the people in it, and for some reason-Jody Whatley and her sister Midori. We talked about his Scorpio boyfriend, his love for music and how he was sending some music to Dallas Austin to listen to, and of course we discussed Janet…That’s when the “EXCITED” woman’s voice in the background began whispering and blowing kisses, and laughing and giggling in the telephone. She was so excited as if she couldn’t contain herself.
“Put her on,” I giggled.
I could hear her clearly, she would yearn-yell: “ooooh,” blow kisses, and giggle: “I love you!” into the phone.
Chris began to laugh and giggle then said: “Uh…ignore her Cin!”
I just hung on and shook my head and responded: “I’ll try to, I’ll try and do that,” I giggled.
We continued to talk about our love for music (as Janet listened on too). We talked about how I best absorb, consume and ingest my music when I am in motion and how I never really have been able to discuss the level I take my music to with my friends because they could never understand (something Janet learned about me from early into this). When I made that statement, she immediately jumped in with her shy, childlike, bullying and sassy whisper, then she spoke into the phone: “THAT’S BECAUSE YOU NEED ME!”
Chris laughed and tried to talk over her: “Uh Cin ignore her again! I’m sorry.”
I giggled and replied: “Oh okay, I’m trying. But put her on,” I asked, gently.
I just hung on, waiting to [what seemed like now] “ease” her into talking to me. She was so jumpy and excited [I guess to be able to hear my voice above “overhearing” it by listening in on my phone conversations, and hearing it past listening to the sound of my voice pick up the phone to say: “hello” before she’d hang up]. I guess this was more virtually exciting and inviting to her.
He asked me what type of person I thought “he” was-astrologically. I was really confused at this point and trying to figure out where we were going with this part, but I went on to give him a general summary of characteristics typical of a Cancer man.
Throughout the conversation, we still continued to talk about his relationship with this boyfriend of his (born October 25 1981). Chris had been going through some things with this Scorpio who was a member of a [now defunct] boy group whose lead singer had gone on to have a semi-successful acting and solo singing career.
I turned up my face, and replied: “Uh…no. I mean they are people too who just happen to be in a business where they entertain and are seen on television or whatever. Shit it’s a lot of people in the world who have just as much (if not more) money than many of them. They just happen to have other careers or inheritances and all. Besides, although your Scorpio is a star (and seen on television), he is human, and has to either be loving somebody, or fucking somebody over and vice versa. That’s in everybody, no matter what their occupation, riches or obscurity is.”
I wanted to, but I didn’t keep pressing him about putting her on the phone because she spent the majority of my conversation with Chris-talking, giggling and playing around, just jumpy and excited in the background in the horn of the phone making sure she was heard, but merely happy that I was that near to her (always about her).
I was sleepy and satisfied [like I guessed she was] that she had gotten some of my energy and felt somewhat closer to me. I didn’t insist on more. I took what I could get and gave what I could give: fed her need for my virtuosity while she sipped me through a straw and we became “one” that night (for her).
────♦────
Monday June 28th was my birthday and I came to the room late that afternoon. It was a rainy day, and I was pretty much settled in by this time. I was small-talking with some people in the room. In walks that damned Janet. She takes a seat and stares at me. I guess she felt like it wasn’t wise to wish me Happy Birthday, so we both just posted: “*giggling*” back and forth at one another the way we did on her birthday. She broke the monotony and asked:
“So how is your day going Cinamon?” (stressing the word: “day”).
“Oh it’s boring, ugly, and rainy outside. *lip poked out*” I responded.
Catching me off guard again, this maniac asks: “Uh…which one Cinamon?…” in her raunchy sexual voice (feeling raunchy).
I responded: “*head south*…oh, that one is…” I replied and giggled.
She then responded: “*Lick*”
We just laughed and giggled.
Lissa walked in: “Cinamon! What are you doing? Who are you talking too!?” she yelled, in defense of her boss, obviously unfamiliar with the nickname Janet was under at that time: (“Stormy1”)…
Janet responded to her: “Hey Lissa, it’s ME! @Lissa. It’s me…”
Lissa then said: “Oh ok,” then she took a seat and watched.
Then Lissa, Janet, the rest of her buddies and me kept talking about a bunch of nothing in particular. Occasionally I would mention something about the movie I was watching on television: “Escape from Alcatraz.” I would interject: “*watching television.” Then: “*watching the men about to escape.” Janet, wanting some action said: “Aw Cinamon, you know you need to quit playing. We all know you’re over there watching a porno girl!”
I played right into it and began to mimic some of the sounds in words that she would say to me in I.M during our many cybersexsions and we all burst into laughter (because of course we all knew what it meant and exactly who I was mimicking).
I then continued by pretending that I really was masturbating while Janet sat there getting hornier and hornier; turning into the maniac that she really was. I ended by posting something familiar to this horny little devil’s eyes: “If I was your girl, the things I’d do to you. I’d make you call out my name, I’d ask ‘who it belongs to.’ If I was your woman, the things I’d do to you. But…”
…her possessive ass sat right up and refused to allow me to finish the song with the original lyrics, so she took over and ended it with her personal remix and rendition: “But you are! And you can! And you will! ‘Cause Cin you are my girl!”
We all laughed.
It had been so long since we had been able to have one of our cybersexsions, or had been able to say anything directly to one another and we were both overdue.
We had fun that day.
I entered the room the next day. I walked in to a conversation that someone hidden behind the nickname: “INFATUATED” was having, with a couple of other Janet’s buddies whom I knew by nicks. I sat there and just watched. No matter what, they hated it so badly when I would come in and just lurk and not talk-I couldn’t understand why. Sometimes they would ask me why I wasn’t talking, and my same excuse would always be: “If we were in an actual room, my natural personality is to go to the back of the room anyways. I normally just speak, or sometimes I just go off to myself and mind my own business unless I am approached, which is what I do in here. So when I come in here sometimes and post: “*going to the back of the room to rest my head on the desk,” that’s what I’m doing.”
I didn’t know what to start off saying to anyone sometimes because it seemed like they all stared at me every time I would enter the room. The only person I felt comfortable with was Lissa-I liked her regardless of her silliness and the misunderstandings she could stir up sometimes.
This particular time that I walked in, “INFATUATED” (and the others she was talking to) preferred I sit back and watch anyways.
At first, “INFATUATED” was talking lusty and about all the things she liked about this woman’s body. Then she began to tell her audience about how she felt about her girl and how she felt so good to have met this girl. She spoke of how she had really learned the art of patience and how it turned her on that this girl forced her to get to know her and how great it was that she took the time out to do it because it turned out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
I just smiled, because I was happy it worked out that way as well…
As I watched, I was so happy to see that she appreciated me for more than her usual one night stands and trysts, and at least took the time out to take notice. I can’t lie, that brought tears to my eyes to see her express that to me.
────♦────
That Xcapade trip was nearing the date planned, and for a couple months actually; periodically, someone people would ask who all in the room was still going. Some people would be talking about how excited they were, and how much they couldn’t wait and all. I never mentioned that I was going because when I canceled reservations back in May, Janet and me (or in any of her many other nicknames) ever discussed the Xcapade vacay since. Besides, she was so off and on that I didn’t know what to do but play it by ear, and so now, it’s here, and she’s in my ear:
Friday, July 2, I entered the room in late morning to see who all would be in. Everybody was talking a big bunch of nothing while I went to the back of the room and laid my head on the desk. After a little while, I just eased on out of the room since Janet didn’t come in. I figured she had such a busy day ahead of her and was probably getting ready for the extravaganza, seeing as though the arrival time was supposed to be at 3 p.m. that day and it was almost that time. She was also scheduled to appear at Virgin Mega Store to receive some special award, so I figured she was probably getting ready or whatever.
I didn’t come back to the room until Fourth of July Sunday, figuring that I’ll peek in to see who was there and who had gone to Xcapade.
That morning, however, I had received a phone call from my friend Kia. I had my calls from home connected to my new cell phone that I purchased that Friday, July 2nd on a special they were running. All was unintentional. It was just something at the right time that I took advantage of, that eventually ended up being a divine convenience. I then called the phone company to have them cut off my answering service because 
even when I would check my messages, Janet could hear those too, so I desperately needed the cell phone to have some privacy.
Anyways, when Kia called, she was desperate and crying; telling me how she had awakened from a dream that she had, and how if I hadn’t answered the call, she was going to have her grandmother call (who too, lived in my city) until she got a hold of me.
“Angie, Angie! I seriously need to talk to you,” she said. She was in tears. “Girl, I just woke up from a terrible dream about you, and I need to talk to you,” she kept saying over and over.
Kia was a highly spiritual religious person as was her grandmother. She’d told me that she was informed in this dream of hers that I was in a situation that was very tempting and enticing. She felt that I needed to dig into all the willpower I had, to rebuke it, because this temptation clouded my gift of discernment and that soon I would see that my energy and my spirit would to be tampered with. She was very worried about me. She kept begging me and crying about how at the moment, it may not seem like it, but many troubles were soon to come.
“Angie, it’s in my body, you know I can feel it. You know that God doesn’t let me rest when I’m feeling like this, you know he never has. Whatever doubt is in your mind about what I’m saying to you, I really would like for you to hold on to what I say, because whatever is going on, it’s trying to rob you of your energy girl and your spirit. Don’t do it!” she warned (like divine intervention).
As Kia continued, my nose was burning and my eyes filled with tears thinking about the hurtful times with Janet, combined with the fact that I was borderline afraid to
think of what I would be soon going to go through with her-all over again (considering the fact that I did not show up to the Xcapade trip because I had canceled my room reservations months back-and she never followed up with me about it. I was really serious about having no intentions on showing up).
In addition to that, these new calls being transferred from my home to my cell phone was something I was deathly afraid that she would find out about; those two things were enough to incite a war with Janet. I was two days missing from her [and with those two things]: worried as hell.
I was so torn. I cried, but held it in and hoped that on one end, Janet was listening so that if she had any further ill intent, she would change her mind. Because despite the bad, I really did love her and wanted things to be right-just as I wanted to be there for her. I didn’t want to take her this far and then let her down at all.
On the hard end of this rock and hard place I was caught between; from the hard place end, I hoped she wasn’t listening so that I could let out my big cry to Kia and really explain to her in detail what it was I was really feeling and going through. But the rock in me did not, and instead-I allowed Kia to rant and rave about her dream until I couldn’t take it anymore, because I was too afraid to open my mouth and respond, just as I was too afraid to continue listening.
I got off the phone and contemplated about whether or not I should enter the room (after that conversation). I was dealing with too many things that I could just feel Janet sitting up in the room waiting to deal with, with me. I knew she was seething and counting down the minutes and seconds before she was forced to react to my silence…and my absence. And knowing that I hadn’t gotten any strange (transferred) hang-up calls from her, something told me that her digerati had already patted the line down and knew the calls were transferred and advised her not to bother calling, because they (and she) knew I would be showing up soon.
Later that afternoon, I did show up. When I took the steps to enter and had come across that one red-faced picture of hers; my heart started pounding. I think I can better describe the look of her face on that picture now: Wicked and sneaky. Seductive, enticing, and tempting as hell, but I was well-beyond tempted, I was caught up by now. As I kept staring at the picture, her horns slowly grew, so I hurriedly clicked on to the room link that read: “Come on in,” and came right in.
I didn’t speak to anyone. I just walked to the back of the room to rest my head but spoke to all those who spoke to me. Janet walked in and took a seat. She was her passive-aggressive personality today, the one that I can admit-I was a little afraid of. That one was tough to get past. This time, she wasn’t “Stormy1”…she was stormy but chose to be the calm before it, by call herself: “MissSecretive,”…that was the name she chose to use today.
She did not speak to me. Instead, she silenced her buddies to ask them a question: “Hey, Hey. You think maybe I can get some help? Does anybody in here know the song “Go Deep” by Janet? I can’t quite understand what she is saying at the end of the song-she adlibs something about missing her CALLing,
…she capitalized the “call” in calling.
She asked twice, and by this time I was in a conversation with someone else, but Janet kept staring at me-rolling her eyes, as she repeated the question to everybody while still looking over at me.
I looked at her and responded: “Well, I think Janet has the lyrics to her songs in the jacket of the CD, perhaps you could look there and see.”
She stood up and placed her index finger to my forehead and said: “Don’t you think Iiiii know that! I SAID she ADLIBS the line I was asking about, and I don’t believe ADLIBS are written in the jacket of the CD!” she emphasized by capitalizing every word she wished to spew with venom, making it clear that sheeee (of all people) should know-since it was her song, her lyrics (and her adlibs).
I took a deep breath and sighed.
She then said: “Oh, I know what it is y’all. It’s: “I’m gonna miss my calling, I’m gonna miss my calling…”
I took a look at the name she was hiding behind: “MissSecretive,” and knew that it (as well as her comment) had something to do with me. I knew that she must’ve heard me transfer my calls to my cell phone or I either missed my calling (from her) when she had someone call so that I could run away with her on this vacay. But after patting the tapped line down, they must’ve discovered the calls were being transferred: “somewhere”—to a phone number they knew nothing about.
I posted: “The number is for you.”
She took a deep breath and gave me her half-smile.
“It is,” I said.
Then the nickname: “Angelindisguise” rolled down.
“I’m never incognito,” I responded (but knowing that she was talking about the song: “Angel in Disguise” by Brandy-probably something Shawnette had her listen to many-a-nights where she and I was concerned in this tug-o-war with Janet, trying to prove to Janet that I was no good for her).
Everyone just looked at Janet and me, waiting on the fight. Instead, Janet dropped down alter ego: “Qbenlyric2”-the same name we were using way back when the Xcapade plans were made (and canceled). I think she was more hurt than she wanted to fight-they just didn’t know. Janet was intense:
“So what’s up Cinamon?” she asked.
“Nothing, what’s up how are you?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not feeling that great. I’m a little lonely. That’s all,” she said.
“Well, why is that?” I asked.
“Well…I’m here…I’m here…In New York…and I’m missing my woman,” she said.
“Well, don’t you think she misses you too,” I asked.
“I don’t know, she was supposed to be here with me and I just don’t know. I want to talk to her. I miss her so badly,” she yearned.
“Well, I’m sure she wants to talk to you and misses you too. Don’t you think so?” I asked again.
“I’m about to go, I’m missing my woman right now cause she should be here with ME”! she yelled.
“I’m gonna leave now,” she responded. She was a combination of upset +disappointed+ hurt at the same time. She sure as hell didn’t want to fight.
I wanted to give her a hug. I really didn’t know what to say because I thought she knew I was serious that day that I told her (“Qbenlyric2”) that I had canceled the reservations.
I remembered now how the entire month of April, May and June, people kept going through the room asking who was all going to Xcapade. I never said a word, and I assumed she knew that I really wasn’t coming. I mean, I had been through so much with this woman over those past three months, I couldn’t tell if we would even be mad at one another around that the time Xcapade was planned, so I pretty much felt safer saying “no” altogether-until I either saw some consistency and most importantly, until she asked me again-personally-from behind her red-tape and many masks.
I was very sad that day. I felt even worse that she was sad. She felt so broken down.
I felt sooooo fuckingggg badddd, I didn’t know what to do or say but what I did know is that nothing I could say this day would soothe her. She couldn’t bare the thought of talking to me that day anymore.
She was acting as if she had been sitting around the house doing a big bunch of nothing but waiting for my call or a knock at the door from her friends who would have met up with me and brought me to her. I felt bad because I knew then, that the trip wasn’t a big “Janet room shin dig,” it was a setup orchestrated just for me and her. Had I known that, I most certainly would have followed up with her more closely. My transferred calls to my new cell phone was just bad timing (little did she know).
The mood of the room was kind of blasé. Everybody felt bad for her-so bad that nobody fought me. It was just…sad-a sad day. She seemed unbelievably stressed and clueless as to what she could (covertly, and through her red-tape) do next to get me to her.
From my CD Rom while sitting in my comfortable black Futon chair, I was listening to “There U Go” by Johnny Gill off the “Boomerang” soundtrack over and over…
────♦────
July 5th, I came in-early afternoon. This day was kind of fun. We were playing around as if we were at Janet’s New York apartment on top of the roof in the swimming pool…where we would have been, I guess.
“Come on Cinamon, let’s go over to Janet’s house,” said her buddies.
I guess since Janet didn’t get to take me on an escapade, she figured she’d bring the escapade to me. I thought that was soooo cute as I told myself: “This girl is serious and intense and means business when she means business…”
“JigglinJanine” says to me:
“Cinamon, will you come over here and drop your cherry into my ice tea?”
I just laughed and shook my head at this crazy maniac nasty girl. She had to make her presence known by saying something sexual to let me know what nicks she hid behind. She was something else.
We barbequed, drank, ate and went swimming. Lissa was running around making fun of people, talking about somebody was trying to outshine Janet with the swimsuit she had on. She was always poking fun at Janet (mainly). That girl always made her way around with her silly sense of humor.
She said to me: “Cinamon is it okay if we let Janet join our party or no?”
I turned to Lissa and said: “*in a kid’s voice* I don’t knowwwww Lissa ‘cause her hair’s longer than ourrrrrsss.”
We all started cracking up laughing, and Janet wouldn’t come back out to play.
I kept begging her to come out and she said she didn’t want to. I hoped she knew that I was playing about the comment I made, but I forgot how she took anything I said so seriously. I hushed and waited.
Surprise! I.M (It had been a while). She I.M’ed me off to the side while we still watched what was going on in the room.
This time, her I.M name was “EsCaPaDeJ.” I shook my head and laughed. That girl doesn’t forget a damned thing-from start to finish. With her, you will finish what you started.
“((((Cinny)))),” she said. “What are you doing Cinny?”
“Nothing, baby how are you? I hope you know I was just playing about the comment I made,” I said.
“It’s ok. I’m fine Cinny Cin Cin,” she said.
(I guess this character was going to be the “playful” her-I’ll take it).
“I’m so happy,” she said.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
“I just came from taking this BMW for a spin. I just bought my woman an 80,000 vehicle,” she said.
“Oh? You must love her huh?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes I do. I do love her. I plead the 5th…” she said.
“Oh, do you think that she loves you?” I asked.
“I sure hope she does!” she replied.
“She does, I know she does…” I responded, while playing out fantasies in my head of the look on her face surprising me with a vehicle wrapped in a big red taffeta ribbon, had I come to New York for my birthday and the 4th of July romantic shin dig.
She proceeded to joke about me dropping the cherry in her iced tea as we joked about it in a subliminal sexual way, then she lead me into the first order of business that she had been wanting to get out of the way: The cell phone number.
I gave it to her, and told her that she could also text me. In addition to that, I also
gave her the information to be able to send email to it-through the number if she wanted to-while I was away from home if she needed me (knowing that probably would never happen). I just wanted her to have everything that I intended on keeping secret-she was way too sweet this day. That made her happy, and as long as she was happy, we were happy.
This day, what she felt for me was at a level than I ever gave her credit for. I loved her so much that I forgot all about the solace I was feeling from having the new number, so much so that I decided to give my trust another try with her-hoping that we could stay like this day, all the time-forever. I dreamed of being this right and this perfect with her. If she would allow it-I was going to give it my all.
“Got it! I’ll put it where I put all the rest of your…well you know. *LoL,” she said.
“…letters, emails, I.M’s and other STOLEN STUFF!” I wanted to end it with, but she would have disconnected me-and we were having too much fun for me to cause upset and paranoia over a mere joke. I just laughed it off and was happy as hell that I made her laugh and smile (since she was so upset with me at first). That was my baby. I l.o.v.e.d her this day.
We were back over in the room where we were finishing up the party. “TendaKissa” beams down. We were all laughing and joking about some joke Lissa cracked about revoking my Dr’s license. She would call me Dr/Professor/Cinamon sometimes and would ask crazy questions like: “Um Doctor, what do when you are hanging out with somebody who feels the need to bark back at a dog that barks at them?” or: “Hey Dr. what do you do when someone is so pissy drunk that they stand in the middle of the street and scream to the top of their lungs?” …jokes that obviously had to do with something she would be picking on Janet about; one of their inside jokes I guessed.
She was also making jokes about warning everybody to stay away from Janet’s computer while visiting her house-even I understood that one…
[My] “TendaKissa,” on the other hand, chose to ask me sexual questions and we’d all laugh. When she claimed I answered a question wrong she said to me: “Dr. Cinamon, I’m gonna lock you up for malpractice, no, actually I think I’ll let you out. I think that bracelet around your ankle will do. It tells me everywhere you go! LoL.”
I laughed, but I got kind of sad because although we were joking about it, it was really the truth-to a great extent. But with a smile on my face and as if she was in front of me, I just responded: “Ah yeah, it’s rather becoming, but it doesn’t match everything thing, I’m going to cut it off one day real soon…”
She frowned then replied (in all seriousness): “No, you can’t do that! That bracelet’s not going anywhere! It keeps track for me, your every move…”
I just looked at that maniac, knowing in her own clever little way, there was much truth to that joke than I could probably ever imagine, and it wouldn’t be until years into this thing with her that I’d find out just how true that was…
But in the meantime, between time, and the present, I scanned the house with my eyes and I reached down to touch my ankle just for G-P. Shit, ever since I first met her, she was always so “in my face” and “virtual,” so I didn’t take anything she said as a “joke,” because she sure as hell wasn’t a joke. Everything about her is serious (even when she’s joking).
────♦────
Later that afternoon, I checked my cell phone usage and it was up by an hour. I could not understand why. I had just gotten the phone and was clocking how long I used it and could not account for that one hour, that one day, for the life of me…
The next day, I had gotten a phone call from a guy friend of mine that I hadn’t talked to in a while. (My calls were still transferred from home to my new cell phone). At any rate, my guy friend and me began to talk about what he had been up to and when we got around to him asking me about me; my call was mysteriously disconnected.
Sure a call can indeed drop, but it alarmed me because the same thing happened a couple of other times that day-at the craziest times during certain conversations I was having with certain people. And none of those things had happened until I gave all of my cell phone information to Janet (the usage spike or the dropped calls–during the most ironic of times in my conversations).
That same afternoon, I was talking to her in I.M under Qbenlyric2 and we were talking about the telephone situation again. The main reason for me getting the cell phone was so that I could have some privacy when I needed to take care of my business that was none of her business (although the way she had everything so hooked up, she was not that “in the dark” about a damned thing anyways), but what little privacy I had left, as well as that of my friends and family, I so desperately needed to hold on to, especially considering all that she retrieved + all that (since the beginning) I had given to her willingly-to keep her happy and to keep peace between us.
When she “caught” me with my new little cell phone, out of habit and conditioning; I
immediately went into “Operation Explanation”:
#1. I explained to her that I was not trying to be little “Miss Secretive” and that whatever our situation was [whenever she was able to talk to me without her “coaches” and “people” on the line and wanted privacy] perhaps we could have private time on my cell phone, or she could drop me an email, or text on it if she wished to-on a line of communication that no one would know about but the two of us (if the two of us was really what she genuinely wanted, and she had pure, genuine interest in me-period-without the drama and red-tape).
#2. I explained to her that with the new cell phone, I could also be online with her-without interruption, because my home phone calls and voicemails would go straight to the new cell phone’s voicemails and I could retrieve them and talk to whomever, later.
#3. I told her that rather than me rushing home from my day to for us to talk, and to avoid my having to get online and going into the room to find out that she’d be
This setup could free up a lot of time for me. The thing about Janet is that when she was off tour with time on her hands, whomever deals with her must have a lot of time on their hands too-to tend to her-that’s just how she is. She can’t (and won’t) trust you otherwise.
I was exhausted with all the creative explaining, and ideally, those explanations would have been true, but realistically, I had been dealing with her long enough to know that the reasons behind those explanations could never happen even if she could merely entertain the thought of it being that way-it wouldn’t. And she certainly wouldn’t go for #3 (to allow me that much free time in my own personal life away from her) that would mean way too much free time not just away from her-but away from her control (and her literal remote control).
The real truth was just what it was when I bought the damned cell phone and transferred my calls from home to it:
#1. I wanted privacy on my fucking telephone.
#2. I wanted whomever dialed into my telephone to have some fucking privacy, too.
#3. It would eliminate 80% of our issues of her “overhearing” something that caused her to react-that totally had nothing to do with her, and her misunderstanding and acceptance of the fact that I really did have a life and other friendships and relationships before her, period–that since her; became strained (and some-estranged).
I felt so stupid. I felt like such a puppet on a string but I didn’t know what else to do. I did know however, that I had to
From the next/upcoming chapter excerpt drop:
With her, I was beginning to know what the effects was like for that baby whose mother was going through post-partum and loved + hated her baby, where the child could sit in the feeding seat and get all kinds of love, food, affection, reaction and attention that was pleasing to it and then the next moment, the mother would go blank and stare the child in the eyes and become unresponsive and despondent when the baby would reach for the mother and expect that same play that it had gotten the last time it sat in that feeding chair. Enough of that made the baby crazy and then there goes their healthy mind and sanity as they develop and grow.
I’m sane and sensible enough what was going on and could be true enough to myself to admit that I was allowing it to happen, but without a clear plan of action to prepare for the worse, as well as what damage could really be done by somebody who blinds the world by her superstardom and smile and who too, has access to the media, my computer, my important files that I need for my career plans (and I won’t belabor the obvious): my heart.
So two days after our fun, July 7 night, I was lying in my bed thinking things through-thinking about how all this shit began and if there really was a way out for me. I knew in my heart that what we called ourselves having was almost impossible, because she really didn’t wholeheartedly trust me-therefore I couldn’t wholeheartedly trust her, either.
I just knew that she had the upper hand because of who she was, and that afforded her many resources that I couldn’t light a candle to, so I knew I had to be careful all the way around. I knew in my heart that she felt like she had too much to lose by trusting “little ole’ me,” but she too, had given away so much and the fact of the matter was-we were from two different worlds and going nowhere [normal]-fast. Her image was too big for her to want to consider “love” with me-not just us being “out” and open-that’s not important, nor was it my wish. But how we communicated and especially how she gathered information-period, caused more problems that necessary and that thing would always be–because of trust level never matching her status and “image.” I was sensible enough to know that.
Deep down inside, I felt so defeated every single day with this woman. I had really come to terms with the fact that no matter how much time, love and attention I gave to her; it was never going to be enough to make her trust me fully. All I could see was me-giving; trying to prove things to her until I broke down in mind. I just broke out crying. I cried so bad that I could hardly breathe. I wanted to burst out of the house and drive six miles up the road to Shauntay’s house, or anybody’s house, so that I could talk about what I was going through deep down inside, but it was too late at night. So I took a deep breath and
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Spitfire .
Media Maestro .
Writing Rhinoceros .
