As I lay in my purple royal sheets about to sleep off the troubles of the day, my phone rings.
It’s a call from an unsaved (yet familiar) number. I know who it is but he hasn’t spoken to me in months, surely he called me by mistake? I pick it up and I am greeted by the shrill corny voice of “Darnell”. “Are you sleeping?” he asks me. I ignore his question and tiredly ask him what he wants. He demands to know if I’m still in the Orlando area and instead of giving him an answer, I ask him who is he to show up after months of not speaking to me and call my phone at 1AM, demanding I answer his questions at a drop of a hat. He tries to act like he is in control of the conversation but soon starts to falter from my sarcastic jabs at him. The phone call takes its usual route: he taunts me about all the “hos” I have, who I am fucking currently and how I have always mistreated him.
It is at this point I have to ponder if he is drunk calling me. I laugh and question if he is drunk right now and how I feel like this is some Marvin’s Room shit.
Darnell was a “Friends With Benefits” situation back when I was in college who could never understand why I wouldn’t be his girlfriend. In his eyes, we were a dope match. We had good sex chemistry, shared common interests, he embraced my weirdness and he was always entertained by my commentary on different matters. HOWEVER, in reality (and in my eyes) we could never be. I never liked him like that and on a scale of 1-10, he was a 7 in annoyance to me. Us having sex was formed out of convenience and I can’t lie, he had a big dick and would do whatever to please me. I could never commit to him and would not be proud to claim him as my “boyfriend” even though he is a “nice guy”.
Months back, Darnell called me to have a “serious” discussion about “us”. He had me on the phone for two hours, pleading his case on why I should give the idea of “us” a chance. At the end of the conversation, no light bulb went off in my head like “hey, give this man a shot”.
There was no bone in my body that was interested in promoting him to “potential boyfriend” status. As much as I tried to explain to him that we could never work and even bluntly telling him that I really just wanted the sex. I don’t even know why he was so adamant about us being together because I had stopped fucking him a long time ago because I couldn’t deal with how bothersome I found him. His laugh annoyed me, the tone of his voice, his mannerisms, his faux nice guy act and the corniness were all flaws for me. Even when we would have sex, his moans were so obnoxious and cringeworthy at times that I would be grateful when the session was over.
As I listen to Darnell reminisce on how he liked when I choked him when we would have sex and how I was probably the baddest chick he has ever pulled, I realize he is just infatuated with the idea of me. The problem with Darnell and others I run into is that they don’t know how to play their position. They can’t accept the category I have put them in. To me, they were just “another nigga on the hitlist trying to fix their inner issues with a bad bitch”.
This drunk call will change absolutely nothing about how I feel about him. It actually confirms everything I already knew. I become annoyed that he is playing on my phone at this time of night. He’s slurring his words, had his buddy hop on the phone to scold me for mistreating his pal and I know in the morning he will act like this never happened. He will retreat from me and always be resentful that I never gave him a chance to prove himself. In his mind, he thinks I’m scared of commitment or shut him out unfairly. In reality, I JUST DON’T LIKE HIM. But instead of digesting that idea and living with the shit, he’ll deflect and put the blame on me.