My first serious relationship in college came to a rather explosive two year end. Like wine-bottles-breaking explosive. Please understand, prior to LoveTrips™ I was always a very private person when it came to love and for the most part my life’s—up, downs and whatnots. So imagine first: a relationship built on friendship and honesty. Next: ending that relationship because your partner decided he or she was not ready for committed relationship: just to keep it 100%— he still wanted time to sew his royal oats. Next imagine, you two decide to maintain a friendship, but agree to call the quits on love. All is well until rumors get back to you that his girlfriends, who are friends of his new romantic interest, are saying you are being a homewrecker because he still hangs out with you. Now imagine in grave detail the stereotypical image of a mad black woman. Place her in a college apartment face-to-face with her ex lover, now on-the-fence friend, raging with anger and humiliation. Set a empty 750ml moscato bottle within reaching distance, and then light a match beneath her heart.
I launched it. It barely missed him. A mutual friend came to put out our flames. I vowed from then on I’d determine how and when my heart strings were plucked and strummed. I realized I deserved more than a fly-by-night relationship. I deserved to have a man who was willing to grow with me, need and desire only me, but most of all a friend who’d build me up and go to bat for me if others sought to tear me down.