I ran all the way home, shoved the door open, got in and snapped it close. “Lee,” that was my grandma at the kitchen, shock in her voice. “What is happening? Who’s chasing you?”
Obviously I couldn’t tell her what happened, at the same time my dumb ass couldn’t think of any lie to say. So much was speeding through my mind. I ignored grandma and ran to my fucking room, slammed the door close. Fuck! How much more fucked up can my life get?
There must be a problem with me. I took off my tee –if I had the strength I would have torn it off, honestly–and threw it down. My room was at its hottest, felt like the sun resonated with my anger, or whatever it was I was feeling. Shit was so damn confusing.
My back against the door, I slid down against it on my way down to the floor. I cried. To be truthful I had no idea why I cried. The fucking tears just came out. It had to be more quiet, though, I didn’t want grandma or Kabbie to hear. Unexplanable things tend to happen.
My mind raced back to Siza’s room. What the hell happened? Everything was going well: the walk, the talking, the smoking, the kiss… Why did I chicken out like that? Why didn’t I go with the flow? I couldn’t come up with any answers to these questions, I felt more fucked up.
I wiped the tears. Shit. I smelled like weed and sweat, plus I hadn’t showeted in like three days. Or was it four? I went over past Kabbie who was watching this animation film with popcorns on her laps. Grandma was knitting in the kitchen. I walked faster so that none of them could see my eyes.
The shower was refreshing. I just stood under it for a while without scrubbing myself. Cold water ran down all over my body with my eyes closed. I tried so hard to take my thoughts elsewere but unfortunately I couldn’t. As I started to wash myself, I realised that the crying had something to do with guilt. It had to be guilt. What else could it be? When a woman offers herself to you for some intimacy and you push her away, whether you like it or not, especially if the woman has good intentions and a big ass, guilt will catch up to you. For me it was too soon. Maybe I should have declined in a amiable, no-thanks-I-don’t-wanna-fuck type of way, and explain to her that I REALLY don’t wanna fuck. Maybe all would’ve turned out alright. No. Instead I ran off like a fucking coward, scared of pussy.
How would I look at Siza from now on? Sure I didn’t want her to be my chick but I sure as hell didn’t want to lose her friendship. Now the guilt. Damn you, Siza! I got out of the shower feeling fresh and recharged. But once inside my bedroom my mood deflated. I thought It’ll be cool to watch that film with lil ‘ sis Kabbie. It’s been a minute since a nigga watched some TV. But after seconds of sitting on that couch next to Kabbie, there was a reminder as to why I hardly watch TV on the first place. This Animation movie, some phoney cringe shit I honestly couldn’t imagine how or why some people would sacrifice some of their time to sit down and watch. Life couldn’t be that really boring for you to watch this.
Kabbie was chewing the popcorns. Her chewing sounded as if she was chewing right next to my ears. She started to talk to me about some things I forgot about the second I heard them. Talking fused with chewing. Within a minute I was back to my room.
Engulfed in so much boredom I thought about dying, which led me to think about that kid Sello who killed himself. There was a lot in my brain; thoughts too dark I swear a tour inside my mind would leave you traumatised. I stepped on this rap magazine which had become part of the floor I had forgotten how long it laid there. I picked it up on my way to bed. I began to browse it for like the millionth time now, and for the millionth time I tried to read it but for the millionth time again I gave up after reading three sentences. I think I had that magazine for over five months now and every time I opened it I’d be on a page I hadn’t seen before. Or maybe I’d seen it it’s just that I forgot it, I don’t know, shit was too weird. I tossed the magazine to the side without seeing where it lands.
Back to Facebook. More cringe posts and memes on my timeline. Zero messages and notifications but I still checked them out. Got so bored I began to hum out the lyrics stuck in my head; Kelly K by Playboi Carti. I searched around for my cigarettes, until I remembered that I left them on Siza’s bed. Fuck.
Tell us: is it normal for a guy to feel guilty after refusing to sleep with a kind woman?