#SoPhi | “The Hurt, The Homework & The Ho” by @_Peez_ |

by • February 27, 2013 • SoPhiComments (1)3205

Heart Stolen
Throughout our tenures in the relationships, us men will come across a couple of significant “firsts”. Your first love. We usually experience this pretty early on in our adulthood. We don’t know shit about shit but god dammit we know we love her. We have the first puddin that shows us what sex is all about, elevating and perfecting your stroke. Then you have the first woman to cheat on you.

Now, having to part from the one that you shared so much with is already morning wood hard, during a drought hard. Adding infidelity to the mix will put a man in an emotional place that is unfamiliar. It’s like someone dropped you off in the desert, threw you a compass and said “good luck”.

My roadblock when I was younger was that I was too arrogant. I couldn’t fathom a woman wanting more than what I had to offer. I was a good looking, D-1 basketball player, so you can gauge the level of confidence that I wore on my sleeve. If my “invincibility” got into a fight with the reality check I received, it would look like Floyd sucker punching Ortiz for a knock out. Walk with me for a second.

My ex and I had recently called it quits. It was a mutual deal, so there was no bad blood and I already transitioned passed the hurt stage (no eating, sleeping, etc) that lasted a salty 15 days. She and my closest ace shared the same birthday so she invited me to a party at her crib. I reluctantly accepted. To keep my ego in tact, I scheduled a rendezvous with new cheeks that lived in the same area, so I could get some rebound buns. The comfort that lays in new thighs does wonders. Nevertheless… That was the plan in keeping my visit brief. Not the most mature shit in the world, but I was 19 and we young men aren’t wired right yet…

I stroll into the party and everyone is white girl, college freshman wasted, including her. Not even 2 songs in, I’m designated as her baby sitter and I’m pissed about it. Some new buns is warmed up, waiting for me to tend to, but I’m stuck holding my ex’s hair while she vomits in a trash can. I sprint back down stairs to grab my phone to cancel the reservation I had for an all night sex romp, but my ace interrupts me to let me know her phone was blowing up while I was dealing with her upstairs.

My ex’s cousin picked up the phone and spoke to this unknown man and my ace said she had the look of a man waiting to hear his prison sentence from the judge…. Before I get to process what’s about to go down, five cars pull up. Each car was packed with niggas and I knew they didn’t come to play beer pong and exchange friendly pounds and daps.

So the dude that was blowing up her phone happened to hoop at her school and I knew him because we were in the same conference. Chest poked out…Tough talk exchanged for a moment before my ex stumbles downstairs, awaken from her drunken slumber. In frantic fashion she starts apologizing to that nigga saying “I’m sorry” and “I love you” and all types of things at an belligerent octave. Standing there sick from what I’m witnessing and what I missed out on, I decide to remove myself from the situation before me and my people all catch a case.

More was being said than done anyway. I’m getting ready to leave and her cousin pulls me to the side and pretty much debriefs me of the situation that took place. She held no punches either. Explaining to me that they have been dating for the last couple of months. They met at UConn’s spring weekend and they were using her cousin room to get frisky. The random trips to NY in the summer were to see him when school was out. My ex told my cousin that she was only speaking to me because I couldn’t accept the fact that we were over. The whole time I’m standing there looking like Monica Wright when Quincy McCall invited her to go eat with his side bitch when he was ironing … STUCK!

Crying in the Car
If anyone knows Connecticut, they know how dark and lonely a drive at 3am would be going 84 west to route 8 south. No highway lights, nobody on the road. Just me in my thoughts, pushing my waves back in disgust trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. It’s about a hour drive, but that shit seemed like an eternity. This was the holy grail of Sadderdays because in the midst of all this, Tank “Maybe I Deserve” comes on like my emotions called into the radio station to make a personal request. That week was the toughest to deal with as a young’n. Missed more than a few classes … couldn’t sleep, food disgusted me… You know how that story goes. Once you’ve coped with the hurt, you have to do the homework to see where you went wrong…

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One Response to #SoPhi | “The Hurt, The Homework & The Ho” by @_Peez_ |

  1. CSI_GotGame says:

    Good ass read. Every dude has been there. It’s necessary but hurts like fuck.

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