I went through all the recent messages on my cell phone and home phone to see who I would ignore and who I would call back.

Danni had been blowing up both my phones with messages explaining her erratic behavior since the day I left for L.A.

She said, “I know I can get used to a normal relationship. It’s just that I’ve been so used to expecting the worst out of men, that I always brace myself for the bullshit, whether it’s coming or not.”

As I had told my sister earlier that night, if you treat your man like family, then you can always find a civil way to stay close to him no matter what the issues are. But I didn’t trust Danni to stay close to me at all. When the going gets tough, Danni was the kind of woman who would have no problem disappearing. She was the female version of me, and she was only calling me back to explain things because I had cut her ass loose first. I only wondered how long she would continue to call me if I failed to respond to her in the time frame that she wanted me.

Dealing with Danni was like setting an alarm clock. How many seconds, minutes, and hours would you get before she went off. She couldn’t change just by saying it. She would need years of work and trust to change, and I wasn’t the patient man that she needed to help her work through it. I was an alarm clock my damn self. I had my own issues to work out.

Rachel had called a few times, too, with more of her bold temptations.

“Let me know when you’re ready to see me again. I still have a few tricks I haven’t shown you yet, you delicious ass man you.”

There was no way in hell I would deal with her again. She had opened up my closed mind in ways that I still had to think about. I mean, how kinky did a man want to be with his main woman versus his freakfests? Was there that much of a difference? Should there be? Maybe Rachel represented the sexual freedom and experimentation that you could hold as an option to spice up a committed relationship. But I didn’t need anymore up close and personal lessons from her. I think I would rather watch some porno movies for ideas instead.

I moved on and listened to a message from Victoria. I really felt sorry for her. She was just a white girl caught up in the middle of things. I wasn’t the kind of black man to forsake everything for the illusion of two to three mixed kids and a picket fence with a man-pleasing white woman. Victoria had all the signs of a woman who would forgive me over and over again. She showed me that on our first night together in Chicago. But…I just couldn’t see myself going there. I listened to her message anyway.