Love Frustration

by RM Johnson

  But thankfully, Asha never found herself having to break his heart like that. They eventually began naturally to move apart from each other, and Asha didn’t know if Jayson sensed her hesitation, somehow knew that she was unable to fully give herself to him, or if he too, was unable to commit for some reason. It was probably a combination of the two, Asha told herself. Jayson had issues. Issues with commitment. Not because he wanted to be with women other than Asha, but because it seemed, he was fearful of getting too close. He was scared of investing too much, and then her pulling away, hurting him beyond repair. He had reason to fear that, she admitted to herself.

  Days before Asha was set to move in, it seemed they were both better able to see their situation for what it was. They loved each other, and promised they always would, but as friends. Mutually, they ended the relationship, but this was after Asha had given her landlord notice that she was moving out. By the time she told him she’d decided to stay, the landlord had already arranged for someone else to move in.

  “So what are you going to do?” Jayson said.

  “I don’t know. I guess I have to find a place, and fast, hunh?”

  “Well,” Jayson said, “the guy downstairs is moving out on the first. You’re welcome to take it. That is, if you want it?”

  “So you don’t have anything open in the four other buildings you own?”

  Jayson looked at her and smiled, shyly. “Well, I have a couple of units open here and there, but I’d rather you be closer.” He looked down at his hands, then back at her. “There. I’m busted.”

  “Well, I’m busted too,” Asha said, smiling as well. “Because I’d rather be close to you too.”

  Ever since then, Asha could not imagine her life without Jayson in it, but she knew that Faith had been having talks with Jayson about her. He never mentioned it to Asha, but she was aware, could just tell by the way Jayson acted with her when Faith was around. He wasn’t himself, so withdrawn, not smiling as much, laughing, or touching her the way he would normally do when it was just the two of them.

  But Asha could understand. Jayson was a beautiful man, with that brassy hair, those hazel eyes, and a body that looked like it was chiseled from granite. Jayson was compassionate, sweet, and shy, like an innocent child, and owned enough real estate to start his own little town. So Asha knew that any other woman who had him would probably act the exact same way. She just wished Faith would understand that she had nothing to worry about. Jayson was devoted to her. On the day that he proposed, he ran back to Asha yelling, jumping around, hugging her, frantic because Faith had accepted, and he was finally getting married. Asha knew Jayson cared for Faith, but then again, sometimes she had to wonder if he was more excited about getting married to Faith, or just getting married, period.

  “Is it her?” Asha asked, while Jayson was still hugging her, just after he told her the news.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if it was anybody else you were marrying, would you be as happy? Would it even matter as long as you were still getting married? Because I know marriage is really important to you.”

  Asha felt Jayson’s embrace weaken. He pulled away from her a little, looked at her, a serious expression on his face.

  “Why are you asking me that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to be sure that she was the one, that this was what you wanted,” Asha said, hoping she hadn’t hurt his feelings, but judging by the look on his face, she knew she had.

  “Well, I want to be with Faith. Getting married to just anybody wouldn’t make me as happy, okay.”

  “All right,” Asha said, but it still seemed as though what Jayson felt for Faith was somehow more like gratitude than love. He felt gratitude toward her for saving his life, taking him out of the game of chasing and cheating, of trying to desperately convince women to consider him as someone worth seeing, worth going out to dinner with. Jayson hated dating. Asha didn’t know exactly why. Maybe because he sucked at it. Maybe because regarding women, his self-confidence was buried so low that he’d never be able to find it, or maybe because of those deep-rooted family issues that caused problems with the relationship that he and Asha were in.

  She had always asked him about those issues, tried to get him to open up to her, resolve whatever was going on, but he would always close up, say he didn’t want to talk about it.

  One evening three years ago when Asha came home from work, Jayson was sitting on the sofa in his apartment, his hands folded between his knees, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

  “What’s up, baby?” Asha asked, closing the door behind her.

  Jayson didn’t reply, didn’t turn around, didn’t even acknowledge her.

  “Hey, baby. What’s going on?” Asha asked again, setting her purse on a chair, and moving over toward him, sitting beside him. She’d moved in to kiss him when she noticed tears in his eyes. She grabbed his face in her hands and said, “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  “My mother has gotten worse. I’m going to have to put her in a home.”

  Asha moved in front of him, sat just below him on the carpet for a long time after that as he told her about his mother, told her a little bit about their dysfunctional relationship. She didn’t know for sure, but she believed his problems had something to do with her. Now Asha wondered if Jayson had ever opened up to Faith, told her what was going on with him.

  Faith should’ve felt lucky to be with Jayson, because he surely felt honored to be with her, and it was a damn shame that she was just too blind to see that. Asha would’ve liked Faith, could’ve even seen her as a friend if she wasn’t so dead set on believing that Asha was still in love with Jayson. Faith was nasty to Asha, and every time she tried to talk to Faith, start up a conversation, she would cut her short, or simply ignore her. When Asha tried to offer her some suggestions about the wedding, saying that she’d help out in any way she could, Faith would tell her that she didn’t need her help or her suggestions. “Thank you, but no thank you,” she’d say, her nose turned up.

  So this evening, when Asha, out of the corner of her eye, saw Faith step out of that restaurant while she was talking to Jayson, she didn’t stop Jayson from hugging her. And yes, she would’ve kissed Jayson anyway, as she always did, but it maybe wouldn’t have been so close to his mouth. And the “I love you” thing, well, she did, and she would’ve said that anyway, too, but maybe not quite so loud. Yeah, she knew Jayson would get an earful and have to deal with that evil witch’s attitude. But Faith deserved to feel threatened, considering how she’d been treating Asha.

  As Asha slid her key into the front door, she heard the muffled sound of her phone ringing. She quickly pushed open the door, ran through the large, open apartment, her heels cutting against the hardwood floor, and stopped in front of the phone. She placed her hand on it, about to pick it up, but then reconsidered. It’s Gill, she told herself, still standing there, her hand on the phone, as it continued to ring. It’s Gill, and this is probably his tenth call of the night, checking up on me to see if I’m feeling better or not. How she wished she had Caller ID at that moment.

  The phone stopped ringing, and the immediate silence shocked her out of her thoughts. Gill was Asha’s boyfriend. A good-looking, brown brotha’ with an MBA from Duke, and a huge loft the size of a basket-ball court, looking out on the lights of downtown Chicago. He was an investment banker, went to work in beautiful suits with lovely colorful silk ties, and drove a brand-new, champagne-colored, S-type Jaguar. Gill got his hair cut every Wednesday, a manicure and pedicure every Thursday, and his teeth cleaned every first of the month. He made a ridiculous amount of money, not that Asha ever asked, and not that he made a point of disclosing just how much, but it was apparent in the way he dressed, and the things he bought. He was well versed in the arts and music and had a flair for fashion. He was perfect, outside the fact that he was from North Carolina and country as hell. He spoke country grammar like he’d just fled the state via swamps and
vacant train box cars. But he “loves me some Asha,” as he put it, and when he said that, he would smile so brightly, that all Asha could do was laugh even though he sounded like Chicken George.

  Gill and Asha had been dating for eleven months now, but he preferred to say, “Damn near a year.” It made their relationship sound so much more concrete, Asha suspected he thought.

  After their first month of dating, Asha sensed the man was in love with her, although he didn’t come out and say it. Asha knew it was a bad idea being involved with Gill, especially if he did truly love her. When she first met him, she told herself she needed a man, a man to make everything seem the way it was supposed to seem, to make her appear normal, and possibly, hopefully, to make her feel normal. But it didn’t work, and why did she even think that it would? It didn’t work when she was with Jayson, so why would it be any different with this man?

  Asha was in no way ready to face her demons, to deal with what had been plaguing her for so long, and Gill managed to keep her mind off those things, at least most of the time. When people saw them together, they thought exactly what she wanted them to think. “What a sweet couple. You two must be so happy, and blah, blah, blah …”

  It was working, and Asha would continue to let it work, as long as Gill didn’t try to get too serious, try to take this thing farther than Asha knew it could ever go.

  But Gill was raised in a family where the mom and dad had got married right after high school, still were married, and would remain that way till they died. They’d probably even be buried in the same damn coffin. He was one of six children and always mentioned how he wanted a litter of his own. And then there was the fact that he was thirty-four when they met, thirty-five now, and there must be some sort of expiration date on men’s asses or something, because after a man turns that certain number, thirty-two, or thirty-three, he immediately flip-flops from that guy who’s just looking for a piece of ass for the night, to the man who’s looking for a wife.

  Of late, all Gill could do was talk about what their kids would look like once they had them, the type of house he would buy for her, and how he wanted her big and pregnant and barefooted and not to think about going to a job. “And when I come home from work, I’ll just lay next to you watching TV, and rub that belly of yours,” he said, smiling happily. “I just can’t wait to have some kids.”

  Kids! What kids? Asha thought. She had never once made mention of marriage, of getting engaged, of their relationship even lasting past another Christmas.

  But Gill was insistent, as he was with everything he did, and that’s why Asha had been forced to lie to him tonight about being sick. He was really feeling the idea of getting married, and the last thing he needed was to be around a couple who were on the verge of that. If he’d seen how enamored Jayson was of Faith, how happy they were talking about their future life together, Gill probably would’ve dropped to his knee right there on the restaurant floor and proposed, slipping a napkin holder on her finger till he could run to the store and get a ring. That is, if he hadn’t bought one already.

  Not a week ago, she had spent the night at his place. The next morning, when she was somewhere between awake and asleep, her eyes barely open, Asha saw Gill tiptoeing around. He was up to something, and Asha wanted to know what that was, so she lay there as if still knocked out.

  She heard him moving over toward the bed, felt his weight settle beside her, and then she felt him touching her hand, her left hand. It tickled slightly, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. She opened just one lid slightly to see Gill with a fabric measuring tape, measuring her ring finger.

  Damn! Asha thought to herself, biting down harder on her cheek and twitching in pain as a result. Gill quickly looked up to see if she had awakened. Asha shut her eye and let out a bit of snore for good measure. Gill turned away, pulling the tape gently from around her finger.

  Yeah, if she knew this man like she knew she did, he had already gotten the ring, and it would be something ridiculous, like six karats, a rock that he’d gone to Africa and dug up himself with the aid of some local tribesmen. That’s how Gill was, always out to impress the woman that he loved, his “Suga’puss.” That’s what he called her, regardless of Asha’s persistent objections. It was just a damn shame that she didn’t feel the same way he did, couldn’t feel the same way. Because of this, she’d have to let him go.

  But Asha was scared, and not just about hurting him. She knew once she let him go that she would be alone. And alone, there was no one to hide behind, no one to stick in front of that mirror while she cowered in his shadow so she wouldn’t have to look at herself, wouldn’t have to face up to who she really was.

  That’s what scared the hell out of Asha, finally facing up to and then having the world discover who she really was. What would her mother think? Were there even people like her in Japan? Of course there were, but she was sure with her mother’s old world ways, she wouldn’t understand. And what about Jayson? What would he think after being deceived for all these years?

  Asha couldn’t let her secret get out, but then again, she knew she could not continue leading Gill on like she had been doing. She would tell him, tell him that it was off, that everything was over between the two of them, and she would tell him tonight. She would just have to work on keeping her business private without using Gill as a diversion any longer.

  Asha placed her hand softly back on the phone with intentions of calling Gill that very moment, when the phone started ringing. She was startled. It was Gill again, she knew, so when she picked up the phone she didn’t even use his name, just said, “Baby, I have something to tell you.”

  “You do? Is it that you were wrong? You changed your mind?” the voice said back. But it wasn’t even a man’s voice.

  “Why are you calling me?” Asha asked, her tone, harsh, serious.

  “Because I wanted to talk to you. Because I thought we were friends, Asha,” the voice said, a raspy tinge in it.

  “We were friends,” Asha said angrily, tightening her grasp on the phone. “Until you pulled the shit you did.” And Asha thought about that night, the night last week when she was hanging out at her friend Jackie’s house. She had only known Jackie, a thin, chocolate sister with a cropped hairdo, for a few months, but they had grown tight, going shopping together, hanging out at clubs, and on Thursday nights, getting together to have drinks at her house with a couple of other girls.

  This particular Thursday, Asha had much more to drink than she should’ve and felt herself becoming drowsy, seeing through blurry eyes. Before she knew it, she was sleeping. The next thing she remembered, she was waking up, her head spinning, but not with intoxication, but with pleasure. Her head was still cloudy, but she felt euphoric, her entire body tingling. She looked down at herself, her vision still hazy, baffled to find herself massaging her own breasts. But what shocked her even more was when she looked down farther to find her lower half draped over Jackie’s lap. Jackie had pulled Asha’s jeans and panties down and was slowly, sensually sliding her middle finger in and out of Asha.

  “Hey, sweetheart. I see you’re liking this as much as I am,” Jackie said, in her raspy, seductive voice, looking down at Asha’s fingers trying to squeeze her nipples through her blouse.

  Asha couldn’t believe what she was seeing at first, thought she was dreaming till she felt the eruptions start to build, thought she would lose it, have an orgasm right there. Because of that, she knew that this was actually happening, no way a dream. Asha started to kick wildly as she pushed herself up on the sofa, trying to dislodge Jackie’s finger from inside her.

  “What the fuck are you doing to me, you sick bitch!” Asha screamed, still squirming away from Jackie, reaching down, grabbing for her jeans.

  “Just let this happen,” Jackie pleaded. “You were enjoying it. Just let it happen.”

  “No!” Asha yelled, rolling off the sofa, hitting the carpet.

  “But you were enjoying it,” Asha h
eard Jackie say over the phone.

  “I was asleep. I wasn’t enjoying a goddamn thing,” Asha said.

  “Then why did you almost come?”

  Asha was quiet, couldn’t say a thing for a quick minute. “I’m not like that,” she finally said.

  “Why don’t you just accept who you are and stop fighting it. I know who you are. I can sense it, feel it. I knew the first minute I met you. So if I can tell, why is it so hard for you to see it?”

  “You don’t know shit about me. You hear me!” Asha yelled, pulling the phone from her ear and yelling directly into the mouthpiece. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, so stop fucking calling me!”

  “Fine, Asha,” Jackie said, sounding somewhat hurt. “I was trying to help you through this, make things a little easier. But if you want to be like that, I’ll let you do it the hard way. Goodbye Asha.”

  “Goodbye, sick bitch!” Asha yelled, slamming the phone down into its cradle.

  Asha didn’t know why, but there were tears falling from her eyes. It was because she let that queer bitch upset her was what it was. Nothing more. There was nothing more going on than that, she told herself. But she couldn’t really believe that. She was crying because she had to let go of Gill. She could no longer use him as an excuse not to face the truth about herself. But after speaking to Jackie, Asha feared she just didn’t have the strength to do that. It would be too painful.

  Asha picked up the phone and dialed Gill’s number. When Gill picked up and heard Asha’s voice, he said, “Suga’puss, I’ve been calling you all night.” His voice was very caring, very attentive.

  “I’ve been asleep. I had the ringer off,” Asha said, already feeding off his affection.

  “How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

  “I am now,” Asha said, batting her eyelids quickly, trying to hold back more tears. And then from nowhere, she said, “I love you, Gill.”