playing happy

Chee Chee is the name she goes by because no one can pronounce Cheeckaella Makanirhita. Why her Mama named her that no one knows. Chee Chee came into my world a few years ago, when her husband landed in my lap. Of course, I was the villain in her story. The seductive woman that came along and stole his affection and sent ripples through their happy home.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Truth be told, I was not his only indiscretion and I would not be his last. This dude spread his DNA around like germs landing from this years flu bug. I was one of many. When she found out about us she was cool with it…until she discovered he really loved me. Our relationship lasted for about a year and was re-kindled years later when he stumbled on my door step one night.

Our love affair went into full bloom for the second time and this time, his story had changed. He had been sorely neglected and unhappy and it showed. Once a very handsome man, now scaled with skin that was flaking, eyes whose lights had gone out behind his soul and wounded from years of abuse and neglect.

I went into fix a broke nicca mode, and remedied all that and some. He was my 2017 project. I am very giving.

People wanted to give me the side eye because he was married. He was in theory. He described their union as a “partnership” that was designed to see their son graduate high school and thereafter, they would go their separate ways.

We all have our woulda, shoulda, coulda’s and I make no apologies for our relationship. We both did what we wanted to do but this time, if he wanted to move forward with me, he had to get a divorce and that he was more than happy to do.

He listed the litany of reasons their marriage was ending. She was not his thing. She was not good enough. She did not stroke his fire or rub his back. She was too light and not ample enough. She was lazy and never cooked him a meal. She was cute, and had a nice attitude. He could always depend on her to be there. She was nice arm candy at the corporate work parties and she “fit in” with his family. She would do….and she did. She served her purpose until he decided she did not any more.

And just like that, after over a decade of marriage he left her…sorta. Moved into their basement and when he wasn’t home with me we were on the phone doing what grown folk do now on the phone.


But all that time basking in my sun wasn’t enough. His delight wasn’t enough. The mink coat and the gifts were not enough.

Show me it is over. Get a divorce.

Divorce case number 2017-CVM-DIORE;IJ. Records sealed. I do not think so. Friends in very high places.

So we move forward. Or try to anyway. But she would not move out of the house and they settled into BFF mode.

Girl, yes.

She wants to be roommates.

Excuse me?

We were swapping places.

Says, who?

The two of you.

I was becoming the wife and she would be the girlfriend.

A little plan she had concocted in her imagination.

First of all, I never said I wanted to marry this man. He claimed me. Another one of his “soft” closes.

Secondly, I do not entertain relationships with men who have BFF’s that are not me. New ones, old ones or existing ones.

Not happening.

He kept her in the way because he thought I would stay under those terms. He thought she would be allowed in rooms in our house and it would be okay. Unfortunately, this woman had lines in the sand she was always moving.

“If you stay out all night, I am leaving. If you go out of town with her, I am leaving. If you don’t stop making public appearances with her, I am leaving. If you….., I am leaving you”.

Well, he did all of that and then some and she stayed right there. Hoping and clinging. Crying and whining. Wanting to know what I did that she did not do and this stuck on stupid fool, sat there and entertained the boo boo and I knew right then, what she was up to.

But this is the thing. This was a game to win or lose with her and I do not play games. I do not spy. I do not ramble through pockets or go through phones. I do not read love notes and stalk other women.  I do not initiate contact and I do not morph into other identities to be or become what any man needs. I write she play write. I had two blogs, she started a blog. I post meal recipes, she post drink recipes. I update pictures, she updates pictures. I declare I am she declares, I think I can, I think I can.

I bought a house.

She trying to buy a house.

I bought another house.

She trying to do something.

Girl, go sat down somewhere.

He told you in a five page letter in English, Greek and Hebrew that you were not who he wanted or what he needed and now he can circle back to you? Ya’ll can unring those bells?

D.E.L.U.S.I.O.N.A.L. One and two.





I am who I am and it is either good enough or its not. These “do whatever it takes to get a man and keep a man” chics set women back 200 years.

Oh, I forgot to mention, she trying to play feminist now.

Good grief.

So when I told him this BFF stuff with her was unacceptable, he thought I was playing until one night, I set his shit on fire and he knew, I was a whole notha level of brand new! He crossed the line and when I say “don’t do that” that is what the hell I mean.

Needless to say, we did not survive the fire and that was by design. I felt bad about it for a few days afterwards, I did. I was hurt, I was. But what Pac say,…yeah… that.

I would do it all over again the exact same way.

Burn baby, burn.

He is back with Chee Chee. She is happy to be his girlfriend again. Happy to love her some abuse, embarrassment, shame and neglect. Happy to love him, girl. Did you hear what I said? He has kissed all the “boo boos” away.

After his mouth all over me and all that nasty?

Oh, Okay.

You like it. I love it.




Just as happy as she can be, being the reach back after the throwback and stalking me.

She follows me online like a lost puppy. Hell, I think between all that back and forth he did, she must of fell in love with me.

Poor thing.

Nevertheless, I am back in the game. The Queen is in position and the King is here. The King is here.


Stay tuned…