FATE WILLIAMS 🐩

Uneasy, I sealed the letter with a kiss, wondering did I just make the biggest mistake of my life. Should I have written this letter? Should I throw it away and speak from the heart? I shouldn’t take her back; I shouldn’t even entertain the thought. She lied to me.

This beautiful person, this woman who looked like Gerald Levert deceived me. I loved the way she looked and how she carried herself like a classy thug.  She’s my studsband (female husband).

She smoked weed, drank alcohol and fought like the Niggahs.  When you spoke to her you’d swear she was a man.

But she lied. About everything. Our entire relationship was a lie, orchestrated by a very insecure, selfish bitch! Yes, I was a lesbian. I loved pussy just as much as I loved my own.  I was a very feminine woman; I loved women who looked like men.

Because it was like I was having my cake and eating it, too.  I got to have a woman who knew how to be touched, cuddled and held, yet I kinda had a man also because she looked like one, dressed like one and acted like a straight “Butch.”  I remembered when I first realized I liked women. It was in high school. I had a big crush on a girl name Lianna.

I was with my boyfriend at the time, my son’s father, but I never stopped fantasizing about her. I used to masturbate thinking of her touch; and her lovely smile. I was too gullible to approach her. I never did.  And I never would.  I could still remember how I met Red. It was at
Club Goodfellahs, in Perrine, Florida on Gay Night (Sundays).

I’d gone there solo because I didn’t feel like giving my friends rides home, especially if they wanted to leave and I didn’t. Everyone started arriving well after 2 a.m. I was dressed in Gucci, right on down to the imitation socks. My weave was immaculately long and curly. I was going for the Tyra Banks look, very America’s Top Model. I loved that show.

I gotta catch the next season. I had sat down at the bar. I didn’t want to be harassed.  I smiled at the short, white female bartender, who kept giving me the once over.  It was mighty dark in there, smoke looming here and there.

The green wrist band was making me feel uncomfortable because my outfit was pink and this green stuck out like a sore thumb. I had a lot on my mind that night, thinking about my past and my Daddy.Daddy. I couldn’t get him off my mind, nor could I get my son off my mind. It was very hard to do.

"And what will you be having, pretty lady?” the Bartender asked me, shuffling her long dirtylooking blonde hair from her face.  I smiled and shook her hand.

“Could I get a Rum and Coke, light ice?”

I was Jamaican, so my accent was noticeable.  A few lesbian Hoes were all on my jock so I grabbed my titties and wiggled them playfully, feeling it tonight. A bitch was out and about and loving it.

My son was with my mother, and I was glad he was because Mama and I fell out today. She told me she was going to call Child Protective Services on me because I was a gay woman raising a son on my own.

I looked at this cunningly stupid bitch and told her, “Bitch, try!”  I couldn’t believe after all the hell she had put me through in my life, she was trying to fuck up my adult life in the process.