Mind over Pleasure

Mind Over Pleasure

An Urban Tale

KP the intellectual 

Part One - Yessenia 

Yessenia’s Apartment

I woke up in the middle of the night to a text from my Jimmy that read picked this up from the local book shop, thought of you. Attached was a photo of "All About Love" by bell hooks. I would have taken this text lightly if I hadn't received it at 4:44 am. The photo shows it was taken in the daytime; this was far past daytime. Finding any reason to text me, this was typical shit for Jimmy.

It must have been one of those nights that Jimmy's in his feels. Finding any way to peak a rise out of me. I knew this was one of Jimmy's cries for sexual healing. Traces of me still lingered in his mind. Or maybe he finally came across one of my lace thongs I had left lying around his place after one of our wild sessions. Two things for sure, one thing's for certain I knew he still craved my intellect that, would also peak his sex drive. Jimmy's dick was maybe six inches while soft and maybe 8 when fully aroused. He worked it like a magic stick, stroke game was immaculate. His sex was captivating. He handled me with care. Caressing every aspect of my body and curves. He knew I was a fanatic for foreplay, and he did just that. He would breathe heavily around my neck raising my temperature. Trace his fingers down the lace seams of my panties, tugging on my panties. He traced his tongue around the outlining of my nipples. He was a master of cunnilingus; his tongue was a lethal sword. He would make me moan sweet melodies. He played my body as though it was an instrument. Jimmy and I had a connection that was out of this world. We would talk for hours about everything. From books to politics to the matters of the heart. He would break down the issues of Black America as though the listener played a direct role in the demise. He would spark a fire in anyone he was having a conversation with and make them want to take action. He made even the biggest ego feel smaller than the hole in a needle. In the daytime, Jimmy made sense of all of the world's issues and even offered step-by-step instructions for its solutions. His essence was that of a true patriarch.

But at night, Jimmy was dark. Jimmy would drink and there would be a complete monster that crept out the seams. Jimmy had his own set of demons he was fighting, that no one knew about. Jimmy would disappear at times and completely stand me up. T-shirt and panties on. I would wait up for him and he would leave me with text messages saying sorry, inviting me to dinner the following day. He would send my edible arrangements, and have an Uber driver pick me up to take me to a hotel room that was filled with rose petals and the finest bottle of Prosecco. In the beginning, I thought it was typical dude shit, blow me over to spend the evening with some other female. Until one time about 18 months into our relationship, I took matters into my own hands and went straight to his apartment. I usually had a spare key to come over when he was out at work or when I needed peace of mind. Jimmy had an apartment in LES, overlooking the East River. I enjoyed overlooking the water, plus he lived near white people, so it was always much quieter.

I thought I would catch him with maybe cheating on me. I would walk into the apartment to find him on the couch sprung with multiple bottles of alcohol of all types. One time I even found him with E Pills and Molly. I didn't know how to react. I was disgusted, but I cleaned up the bottles and the mess and acted like nothing was there. I woke him up and brought him to the bathroom. I cleaned him up and I cooked us breakfast. I ended up not being able to stop thinking about what I had just seen and I asked him, "What was that about?"

"What was what about?" he says, playing with his food. Reluctant to look at me.

"You know what I'm talking about the alcohol? The pills? What was you trying to do?" I asked peeking up at him while eating my toast.

"My mom came into town this past weekend. We were talking, you know there's still so much shit I'm bothered about I have bottled up. I just don't want to feel it anymore. She came popped up on me in my doorway, asking for money I didn't have. I was going through a financial issue with the financial department regarding my tuition balance. I can't even rely on her to guide me in life, but I have to fund her lifestyle, all because she gave birth to me."

"I hate to hear that that's bothering you so much, if there's any way you would like me to help take your mind off of that, let me know," I say while sipping my tea.

"I'm good, what's that you sipping?"

"Lemon Ginger," I say, staring into the window.

We carried on with our day, but I will never forget the feeling of not knowing how to address someone's trauma when I had spent so much time just studying trauma. From all the examples of relationships in my life, I thought it was my responsibility to see this through with Jimmy. I could tell him all the ways he was broken but never a solution on how to fix him. With all the reckless behavior, I started to get annoyed that he wouldn't try fixing his issues.

I met Jimmy while working part-time at my college's campus bookstore. Jimmy had a few issues with a couple of his course materials. He was trying to arrange for his textbooks to be picked up at the bookstore because the last two orders were stolen. I thought he was fine as hell, and I wanted first dibs to make an impression. I was a curvy brown-skinned curly-headed girl, with a hell of a body. I was a mixed woman of the African Diaspora. I was stacked. I had a fat ass from Africa, large voluptuous breasts from Central America, and Hips from Santo Domingo to match these nicely plumped legs and thighs that were firm yet meaty right here from The Bronx.  I had skin like gold, that made my smile illuminate with glee. I usually had an advantage in any situation with just the crack of a smile and a flutter of blinks. I was bright and boisterous with knowledge oozing off my tongue each time I opened my mouth. I was ahead of my own time, and I knew it. Jimmy was three years older than me. That turned me on. I wasn't able to learn much from men intellectually, but I was curious if he had something on the physical level to teach me.

I walked over to the brown-skinned guy with the jock physique.

"Hey, I'm Yeye, can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, can you help me track my order?" he said, with these brown almond-shaped eyes. He stood six feet tall with curly hair, some of which were locked. He had a nose ring and a scar above his right eye. We could have been brothers and sisters, not in a weird incest way but in we were from the same side of town kind of way. Maybe he was also mixed somewhere in his bloodline. I felt like I saw his life path the moment I looked at him. He was a King, being starved. He was asleep. I wanted to wake him up. It was my duty to bring him awareness of his greatness. I wanted him to see himself the way I saw him. Beautiful.

But this was no time for reminiscing. I was serious about not playing mommy to a grown-ass man. Jimmy wanted me to coddle him. I guess somewhere down the line he saw my want to fix him, and he took advantage of it. I always was taught if someone would fumble and confuse gold of tin was a fool. Jimmy was that. A fool.

I texted back, "Not tonight, have a busy day tomorrow. great book btw" I locked my phone and turned it over.

I thought back to the thought of wanting to fix Jimmy. I meditated on the title of the book he sent me, "All About Love", was this a sign? I still loved him. I still felt for him. I saw him as a man desperately wanting the affection of a woman. I also saw the misguided boy, a boy halfway abandoned by his mother. When we met, he was just twenty-one and I was eighteen. He was breaking norms as a black man, supporting himself through college trying to make something out of himself. I wanted that success story with him. In a lot of ways, I felt we were perfect for each other. We both were flawed but were nearly perfect in the eyes of the adversary.

I bit my lip, gripped my blanket close to me, and closed my eyes. I told myself the next time he texted me, I would get my final fix on him and be done with it for good.