I get this feel…

I get this feeling that in between our conversations, there is always something in Shame’s mind that he doesn’t tell me. When new pussy comes into the picture, there is a chance that it made his ways change. Every time Shame is out cheating or interacting with another bitch the niggah only have to words to say and two minutes to spare.

            As of now, I cleaned up my whole apartment… scrubbing and spraying, spraying and scrubbing… listening to some Mary J. Blidge Not Gon’ Cry. Yea, I was in one of those moods. I’ve done enough worrying and I’ve done enough thinking to the point that I’ve build enough courage to put my foot down. I was going to calm Shame. I was officially sick of this shit.

            Walking down the hall to my bedroom; I reached across the bed to grab my phone, preparing myself for my talk with Shame. Scrolling down the call list, I located Shame’s number. Walking back towards my living room, I sat down on my sofa propping my feet up.

            Hearing the phone ring on the other end, I contemplate on hanging up… until he answered.

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