Blake University HBCU Chronicles: Margaux and Chawnsee

by Aisha Bushra

If I wanted to get ahead of my problems, I needed to stop being scary. Opening my purse, his name stuck out on the front of the card which was great because I had forgot it. My brain was saying the white man, but I knew I couldn’t call or text him and say that. It’s rude as hell. Dialing the number, it rung twice before he answered with a cheery voice. “Good morning sweet thang.”

She just pïssed me all the way off because like whyyyyyy not tell her family or her man what’s going on instead of acting like a whörë!

“Yea, you can. There were way easier ways to do this, but your ass just wanted to do it this way. I told you over and over to go and ask your parents. Shit, ask your brothers, and you said no. I even said sell one of those expensive ass bags you have, and you refused. You didn’t want the easy way out, you wanted to make shit difficult, so face that shit and conquer it. Plus, I missed work and I want my cut and broke ass ain’t got no money honey!”

All facts stated!

I’ve been messaging Chawnsee, but if I don’t answer the questions he asks, he goes quiet on the conversation.

As he should.

I do owe him an explanation, but am I wrong to feel like he could allow me the time to do so? Without acting different!

Yes, you’re dead wrong && that man can act and feel how he wants until you’re totally transparent with him.