Update: Surgery, Recovery & More

As some of you may know, I had my myomectomy on Feburary 12th. A new fibroid was discovered and the surgeons were able to remove a 5cm tumor and two more that were half that size. The biggest one (7cm) was left behind. The doctor said that I would have lost my uterus if it was removed. He also said that after I’ve healed completely I need to aggressively have a baby because time is running out. Once I give birth my uterus has to be removed.

I suppose the news isn’t surprising but still saddening nonetheless. Another doctor said that I needed to have a baby due to the severity of my fibroids a few year back. I guess a part of me was waiting on my knight in shining amour to sweep me off my feet and have babies with me but maybe I need to let that dream go. Maybe I just need to go ahead and become another single black mother statistic. Is there a “be my baby daddy” website out there? I honesty don’t know what to do at this point. Maybe I’ll gain more clarity once I’m healed in a couple of months. Pray for me, send some positive vibes, etc.

Recovery was a bit challenging. My mother came every morning for about two weeks but I didn’t have any help in the evening. The painkillers also made me hallucinate like crazy. I don’t know if it is because I’m bipolar or what. It was definitely a scary experience! It’s been about three weeks and there’s some pain but I’m getting better day by day.

In other news…

I’m currently working on a poetry book that I’m self-publishing through createspace. I’ve been writing poetry since a pre-teen and always had a love for poetry. Slyvia Plath, Pablo Neruda, Maya Angelou, Khalil Gibran, and Saul Williams are my top five. With the emergence of poetry from Warsan Shire, Rapi Kaur, Nayyiah Waheed, Yrsa Daley-Ward and others, I finally feel more inspired than ever to publish. I can’t say that I’ll be as eloquent as they are because I can be self-deprecating at times and that’s ok.  We all can’t be the same.

The working title is The Chaos of Longing. It briefly touches on trauma and living with bipolar disorder but the meat of the book is about the chaos of longing for flesh, affection, self-love, and healing. And of course some of men I discuss on the blog will make an appearance.

Beast of a Burden

Some of this content may be triggering and/or explicit. 

Hypersexuality is a beast of a burden. For the past year, I’ve been doing well in controlling my hypersexuality by not having sex by seeking self-pleasure, fantasies, and copious amount of porn instead. Oh, yeah! And Ben & Jerry’s too! Well, that changed a couple of days ago. I finally saw Fire after an entire year. I was able to turn him a way a couple of times but the craving was still there. A sista was backed up and needed to unclog her drain!

After days of texting back and forth, I decided to see him. I greeted him at the door in a satin robe and white laces panties that he requested. He kissed on my neck and I undressed before him. Then I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth. The sex was just as raw and intense as I remembered. About halfway through the session, something in me switched. I became maniac. I assumed it was ecstasy initially but now I know that it wasn’t. He began to tell me during sex that when he first saw he had to go to the bathroom and jack off because my big breasts were such a turn on. Ordinarily I wouldn’t engage such a statement but I wanted to know more. “Tell me more,” I said as I thrust him deeper inside of me.

“Those big titties turned me on so much I wanted to take you behind the building and rape the hell out of you!”

Instead of the side eye or an “Oh no you didn’t just say that!” I responded “Oh yeah!!! Rape me!!!”

“Next time I’ll bring a fake knife and pretend to rape you.”

I began to laugh manically.

Who gets turned on or laugh about being raped? I was a rape victim for Pete’s sake!

Afterwards he showed me pics of well endowed black women on his phone and I had no qualms looking at them. Before he left he said that he wanted us to sexually exclusive. He claims I’m the only woman he’s been with sexually since we’ve met but I don’t believe it. I told him that I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. I don’t know why I agreed to the arrangement. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend or buys my lavish gifts! We haven’t even been on an official date! I didn’t hold up my end on the “bargain” though. The beast took over. I wanted more. My pussy was sore and I still wanted more. I felt like a bottomless pit.

Several hours later I sent a nude pic to Soothed. He told me that I was beautiful and that he missed me. Those words rushed through my veins and felt like glitter. I felt so sparkly on the inside.

“What do you miss about me?” I said in an attempt to fish for more compliments.

“I miss your comfortable presence. I miss your hugs and your laugh. I miss how easy it is to hang out with you. I miss how silly you get with wine. I miss your boobs and your orgasms and your warm body under my fingers.”

His response sound like it came from a chick flick. The only thing missing was an epic kiss in the pouring rain. More glitter rushed into my veins. I needed to release all this DAMN glitter! He asked if he could come over and cuddle. Cuddle is the equivalent of Netflix and Chill in my opinion. We cuddled for about ten minutes before he began massaging me. He traced his fingers all over my body. His touch felt like fire and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Taste me. Please taste me,” I said desperately as I lowered his head. And for a few hours we caressed and tasted each other. When it was all over I could feel the glitter dancing on my clitoris. I still wanted more!

He spent the night and we got the chance to actually cuddle. I felt so safe in his arms. The next day as he embraced me I said, “You comfort me a lot. Maybe it’s the hugs.”

He looked me deep in my eyes and said “You mean a lot to me.”

Last night I rolled over in bed hoping to feel him there. I’m afraid that might happen again tonight…