I really like this Calvin Richardson song. I mean really like it. It’s not often that I will listen to a song several times in succession but the voice snared me and the words ushered me in. These lyrics are what I would sing to the woman I’m dating exclusively. The lines to “Hearsay” is that something we should all adopt when it comes to relationships. “It’s all about me, it’s all about you, don’t give a damn about what they say . . . . .” are words to live by. However, most of us are always trying to win the approval of “they”.
Ladies, you want your man to be that flashy, twenty four inch rim riding baller so you can take selfies by the pool at his enormous home to manufacture jealousy. Fellas, we want that model chick with that applicious Serena booty in our stable so other fellas can salivate with envy. Things are copacetic in our sphere until we take it a step further. We begin to talk about our relationship affairs publicly, often inviting the wrong type of “friend” into our earth. Whether it’s social media or word of mouth, discussing your love merger to the wrong person can open Pandora’s box and leave you in love’s unemployment line.
Now what I’m about to say may offend some of you. Some of you may even take issue with it but that’s what the comments section is for. Many of you (and by you, I mean ladies) surround yourselves with these toxic, non-productive, materialistic, divorced five times going on six, bitter ass females. Not only that, you surround yourselves with these quietly flirting, insecure, wearing panties in the daytime, unhappily married secretly crushing, bitch ass men! And if you haven’t noticed, I can’t stand these types of people because it’s like they refuse to be happy! And what do unhappy people want? They want to bind you to their unhappiness! These are the very people that will undermine your union.
So while I was killing myself slowly with the kettlebells, I was thinking back to the first time someone infiltrated my relationship. It was back in the ninth grade while I was dating my first love. During our courtship, she had a friend that I always thought was a little “touched” (we’ll call her Melancholy). Melancholy was always in my girl’s ear about something and I didn’t trust her. Anyhew, one March afternoon we were getting on the bus headed home. Now it was custom in high school that couples sat together on the bus. However on this day, my love came on the bus encompassed with some of her friends and sat several rows ahead of me. My face had a disdain similar to that of a pimp expecting his money and not receiving it. Before I could raise up from my seat, she came charging toward me with a scowl on her face. Without a hello, she yelled out “Are you f@#king her?”
My beautiful angel had anger and hurt written all over her face. I looked at her intently and asked who I had betrayed her trust for? Melancholy. Without pause, I bursted into laughter. I asked my love was this a joke? She remained stoic while informing me that Melancholy told her this in confidence. Melancholy said that she was a willing participant in our affair and didn’t want to continue living the lie. Melancholy knew that my love was refraining from sex and used that against her. Now let’s remember. This is the ninth grade and I was already feeling like I was in a reality television series! My first love looked like Cherokee D’Ass while Melancholy looked like Whoopi from the Color Purple! Why was I going to smash any other female? I eloquently told my love that I would never sleep with another female. I even went so far as to confront Melancholy. It was during the confrontation that I found out how crazy Melancholy was because she had the gall to continue the lie! She told me the day, the positions, and how good it was! I told Melancholy in so many words that she was batsh#t crazy and that she needed mental help. It didn’t help matters that she ended up pregnant two weeks after. . . . . .
Needless to say, things were rocky for me and my love after that day. My love said that she believed me but her actions said that she didn’t. She began to question everything I did. Every time I hung out with my friends, I had to be seeing someone else. What was once seen as affection was now called smothering. Space was a term used daily. We ended up going our separate ways all because her “friend” was envious of what my love had in a guy like me. Melancholy didn’t end up telling the truth until some months later.
Now there’s nothing wrong with having friends however you have to mind the company you keep. Everyone doesn’t have your best interest at heart. This is the main reason why I don’t put anything about me and whoever I’m dating on social media (even that has cost me a relationship). I may share experiences from my past, but I’m smart enough not to invite the wrong people to my house, figuratively speaking. So no, it’s none of your friend’s business what goes on in your home. It’s none of your friend’s business what you do with your significant other when the lights go out. It’s none of your friend’s business until you make it their business.
Remember the happiest relationships are not advertised . . . . . . . . .
And no, I did not sleep with Melancholy . . . . . . . . .