Feminine Hues

Secretly, I know my girlfriends envy me.  They want to be able to go out anytime they want.  Unfortunately, the little man and the whaling brats hold them back.  I always hear, “Not this time Renay.  Maybe next time when I can get a baby sitter,” or something like that.  I see the look of desire in their eyes.  When I visit, I often see the dull look of being trapped in a routine.  It is just as well; at least they are taking responsibility for their actions.  There is nothing worse than seeing a woman running around all of the time when they have a husband and children at home.  Pathetic.  Anyway, I’ve stopped asking them to do fun things and have reserved time to go shopping with the little mothers and wives.  They hate my sarcasm because they know that I am not kidding when I say, “did you ask if you could go out?”

My mother loves my lifestyle.  She likes to see me with nothing.  She wants to keep her youth and grandchildren would just kill her.  She wouldn’t be a good grandmother unless she was disabled and even then I wonder.  My selfishness comes directly from my mother.  She had me out of wedlock and probably would never have married if it wasn’t for that.  Abortions were unheard of then, I think. Or maybe she was fearful of the Lord.  Many lives have been ruined behind her thought processes.  Herself, a man, a few other children, and me.  Those are the breaks, cookie.  Anyhow, my lifestyle is directly influenced by the ability to rub my freedom in her face.  I am single and happy.  She is married and unhappy.  I have no intentions of joining the bandwagon.

I went to college and finished just to have something else to hold over her.  She never finished.  I got my driver’s license when I turned 18; she never got pass the permit stage and is still struggling.  I bought my own home straight out of college.  I own my own business, drive two nice cars, and travel extensively.  Like on jeopardy, “Things my mother will never do in her lifetime?  Correct Ms. Wilson.  You have just won $10,000 for that answer.”

I always ask myself, “Why am I the way I am?”  I wonder if I am doing the right thing.  I think too much fun is sinful.  I must be very sinful.  I like to have wonderful experiences but will not indulge in them for too long.  I like depravity.  I enjoy depriving myself and others to teach someone a lesson.  I think that is noble.  I also believe that if you don’t leave at the right time, what was once wonderful can become very sad.  I learn from my mistakes.  I used to try to drag things on because I remembered the fun in them, only later did I realize that what I was holding on to was a memory.  I move through life like I move through a hotel; you leave your baggage at the door, rush to the new face at the counter, take what they have to offer (which is the key to the beginning of something new), then quickly move on before the thrill dies and you feel over charged.

I thought I was the only person in the world who held this philosophy about life until I met Raoul from Cape Verde.