Malachi could have been a womans dream if he could just get his shit together. He would have these job's and then after a few paychecks he would disappear. He had a temper that he could not control, but he loved life and I loved being with him. He never asked for much and all he wanted was to be with someone who could accept him as he is. Which was a bit much considering he had over seven kids and five baby mama's, none of which he made no attempt to marry. Those facts alone would make any woman think twice about being serious with this man. He was a fun guy that sold you a believable fantasy, topped with unbelievable sex. When you wake up, you realize that it was all a dream and all you have is a real baby to show for it. It worked for five women and who knows how many others. But too bad for them, those are issues I will never have. I had no intention of creating a life with Malachi. So you can understand when I say when he disappeared I didn't mind, he was not my man. When he appeared he came with flowers and a good time.
We meet one evening after I had just finished listening to one of the longest depositions in my life. I was ready to have a drink and relax for the evening. I just walked to the nearest bar I could find. There is always this unspoken vibe that when a woman walks into a bar alone, she is either there to pick up a man, meet someone, or lonely. Today, I didnt give a shit about opinions, I just needed a drink. I sat at the bar, ordered a sidecar. Yes, it was that kind of day. I started to think of my husband who was doing all this time and how I was spending my time. I wanted to feel guilty, but I didn't. I wanted to let him know that he no longer controlled my every move and that I was living out every fantasy without him. I wished he knew me better, I wished I showed him more of me. The more of me that was a lot like him. In mid-thought I was interrupted by a deep voice, a voice that left me almost speechless.
"May I sit down?"
"Yes". As I looked over my shoulder, this man was very handsome. He had these incredible green eyes, that was surrounded by his mocha skin. His beard was unkept and rugged. His clothes were well put together, not the white t-shirt and shit that most men that approach me have on. He was nice and appealing. He asked me a lot of questions, some which I lied about some which I told the truth. Are you single? Yes. Are you married? No. Are you looking? Well, of course. I thought I could always use a man to play with and to take up some of my time every now and then. Are you available? The more alcohol we shared the more he opened up about the complexity of women, his children etc. Shit I didn't care about. Solve your issues before you get to me, I am not a therapist. I listened anyway, as I wondered what it would be like to sleep with him. I wondered how he used his hands, if he was a good lover or just a fucker. I wanted to know, but somethinng was telling me to take it slow and see what happens. I already had two toys in my box, did I need a third?
It's been over a year and we still see each other every now and then, He will be in town this weekend. I am not sure why I have kept him around. There is something special about his company, he made me laugh. The sex was nice. He knew how to please. It was like a new relationship each time, and each time I would pretend that he was a new guy. We were a secret, and we had to get it all in on one take. Some of it was true, but he knew nothing about me. I painted the picture of a lonely lawyer, too busy to establish a real relationship and he was my knight in shining armour, or something like that. What mattered was we really enjoyed our time together. And then he would be gone again. Hopeless, but convenient.
