Love Me Enough to Let Me Hate You; Sistafriends & Truth

On our first date, Bernard drove to one of Tuskegee’s neighboring towns, took me to a Bar & Grill and ordered us a bottle of wine – probably a White Zinfandel. To a girl who was frequently eating Ramen and drinking Mad Dog – this experience was impressive. That move made me, a 18 year-old girl from a small town, feel as if I was dating a man.  I felt sophisticated and grown: drinking underage in a restaurant that  had servers and didn’t have a drive-thru.  He later took me to the room he rented in an old, White plantation-looking house that he shared with several of his frat brothers, lit candles, played a Prince mix-tape, and introduced me to the power of touch and the beauty of a patient, experienced man.  I don’t know if I was in-love or in-awe after that night; but whatever it was ignited…

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