As my fellow followers and visitors...I dont think Im allowing you guys to really get to know me. I talked a friend recently and this is how it went:

I attempted to intiate the conversation with "Hey buddy".

She replied "Im not your buddy"

"Damn Why"

"Cause I dont feel like I know you"

"Why is that...I talk ALL the fuckin time..I thought."

"Yeah but you only speak logic and help me with advice...you never really talk about yourself and your past"

". . .Damn. You got a point"

. . .This opened my eyes. I never really blab about past causeI dont feeel the need to. I usually feel sefl centered when I do, so I save it. In an attempt to get closer to my followers...I share one of my essays that expoited a very bad experience for me...If you're interested ...enjoy!!!...But know its quite extensive.

“Debunking” is a term used in the sociological arena. It means to question the things taken for granted in society and to become an “outsider within”. Let’s say you were a parent of a toddler. On one particular day you decide to dress him in his favorite accessories; his blue power ranger watch and his iron necklace. You know that the metallurgy of his necklace attracts electricity but you still decide to go do some last minute shopping on a very stormy day. Unexpectedly a bolt of lightning strikes your child and takes the life out of it. Would you now view lightening different as you did before? Sociologists have noted that most times in society, debunking has massive impacts on citizens’ perspectives. This can change one’s outlook on everything from choosing a color to choosing a culture. Unfortunately, most times it takes inconvenient incidents to occur in order for most people to "debunk” society. Sadly, that’s what it took for me.

On an early November night I received an unexpected phone call from an old friend from my math class two years ago. We spoke briefly about her extensively bottled in emotions. She admitted that something compelled her that night to share that she has had a crush on me for quite some time. Although I didn’t waste the opportunity to share with her that the feeling was mutual, I did neglect to share my motives.

Shanira was one of a rare breed of females that possessed goddess-like curves and a tar-like complexion. To me, she was synonymous to a black diamond in comparison to the white diamond.. Her curves were much like those of Meagan Good. Her smile was as illustrious as Alicia Key’s. She spoke with more seduction than the voice of Beyonce’ but possessed a skin complexion like Kelly Rowland. I could watch the sun blow up into a million tiny stars and not of one of those stars would match up to the glow this girl had when she entered my presence. The value of her rareness appealed to me strongly.

Shanira and I dated for months and we became very involved sexually. On one particular night towards the end of November, we shared a very intimate intercourse. Afterwards we decided to cuddle a while to meditate on the value of each other’s affection. Surprisingly, her phone kept vibrating. Noticing that it was the third hour into a fresh morning, I became leery. I removed myself from the position I was in and made it my mission to corroborate my suspicion. It was then I opened her phone while she insisted in the background that "there was nothing in there to see". Sadly she was wrong.

"When I can beat it down again?" was the first message I saw in her inbox. As I investigated further I found that Shanira and this guy, Brion, had been sharing messages and affection between each other for a few weeks. I felt betrayed, used and worthless. I wanted to run to my mother but I didn’t want to watch her attempt to hide her feelings of disgrace. I wanted to get some advice from my homeboys but I didn’t want to listen to the deep sigh followed by the inevitable, “Damn Jeff…” At one point I wanted to laugh it off, but I hate fake smiles. I began to cry but my pride wouldn’t allow me to feel conquered. To counter that I had an urge to call her a deceitful bitch, but I respect women more than that. So instead of choosing an action that I would later regret, I stormed out of the house silently. This female was no longer worthy of my respect or commitment. I couldn’t estimate the amount of integrity this female possessed anymore, but I could measure the amount of respect she had for our relationship. We shared many good times but I refused to talk with her for as long as I could. I didn’t feel the need to speak with anyone who didn’t respect me.

Ironically I found myself conversing with her on a later date. She called me around the time of 7 pm on a Wednesday evening towards the end of December. I was just getting out of track practice, so my mind was motored on the anticipation of enjoying the comfort of my bed. With that, I didn’t have the intransigence to ignore her call. I answered her call and recognized from the tone of her voice that this was not an effort to apologize. This call was to inform me.

She shared with me that she was showing symptoms of a pregnant woman. I politely offered my condolences. Then I suggested her to invest in a pregnancy test. In opposition, she was persistent with implying that the disputably forthcoming baby was mine. My first thought was that she has had many partners and there was no way this child could be mine. I was quickly convinced to think otherwise when I recognized what I was about to do. If I had ignorantly shunned the chance of fatherhood, I would have just been another black male in this society who has neglected his patriarchal responsibilities. So I pledged my time to go with her while she got tested for pregnancy but more importantly, tested for the possibility of my fatherhood.

While sitting in the waiting lounge of Grady Hospital, many emotions converged to produce an awkward feeling that was hard to conceal. First I felt great. I was about to be a father. Then I became scared, because how would I support this child financially. Next I had an urge to shoot for the door, but I couldn’t live the rest of my life feeling like a coward. My last thought brought me back to my first thought when I envisaged me producing this world’s next impactful leader. From an outsider’s perspective, the way I kept fidgeting in my seat you would think I had the Turrets Syndrome.

When the results came back, I was fortunate to find out that she was only sick. I found that ironic because I was sick too. I was sickened by her lying, ailing from her deceiving ways and most of all, debilitated by her manipulation. Shanira changed my perspective of sex. No longer did I view it as a casual expression of temporary emotion, but rather an act of sacramental engagement.

Once you engage in an act of sex with someone you have put yourself in a state of vulnerability. You have just jeopardized your privacy, dignity, and respect for a chance to strengthen and extend a bond with an individual. After the acknowledging of the true consequences of sex, I decided that girls shouldn't be prized for their incentives but rather their intelligence. They shouldn't be appealed to you by the curves of their bodies but maybe the creativity in the conversations you share. From this experience, I’ve found a new respect for women and since then, I’ve remained abstinent.