Nose To Nose

Now before I keep "spilling my muthafuckin beans”, let me preface this by iterating again that I AM 100% RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, BECAUSE NOT ONLY DID I ALLOW IT…I WENT BACK TO IT AFTER I WALKED AWAY. Like I told him in one of our many arguments "No one is a victim of the suffering of their choosing". See abusive love is the only kind I’ve ever known and I had enough experience to know better but I had never experienced an abusive love, wrapped in a religious package.

At the time, I was searching for something. On my own accord, I had taken my Shahada, March of 2023. I had been reading the Qu’ran and I fell in love with the forgiving nature and grace that Allah showed. For instance Allah permits the consumption of otherwise forbidden (haram) foods. The law of necessity (Darurah) ensures that the preservation of life takes precedence. That nuance was beautiful to me because comparitively speaking, in Christianity, you disobey that version of God, and you going down! Basement…the pits of hell for all eternity, just cuz a nigga was HONGREE and the swine looked divine at the time. Islam was like, I dont want you to do that BUT if it's necessary for survival then I forgive you. Engaging with the performance of FrampCamp GoodMan felt necessary for survival at the time. I mean what a spectacular display of showmanship, Leadership, worship, and fatherhood.

During covid FrampCamp Goodman spent time on the gram, doing what he does…offering "brain food" and prayers. Talking to people about Islam. He told his story and I found his candor to be so intriguing. Myself being no stranger to the ils of the Distict, having attended too many funerals to count growing up, understood his pain and respected his redemption. He would always say to us “If you need anything from me, please reach out, and if I can be of assistance to you in any way, I will”. I believed him.

It was the summer of 2021 and I had a situation that put me in full understanding of how unprotected I was in the world. FrampCamp Goodman had mastered the art of staying dangerous so I reached out to see if he could be of assistance in helping me learn to protect myself. It was that inquiry that was the catalyst to the most ridiculous 4 years of my life.

The Stairs

June 2021, FrampCamp GoodMan hit me told me his was in town and that we needed "a nose to nose". Excited I agreed. I had just moved into a townhouse in K-town. I hadn't moved my furniture in fully, all that was there was a bed. But arranged our meeting there because my other spot in my opinion was too dangerous for him, gangbang wise. I didn't want him to end up in some La trickery because he pulled up on me.

He pulled up, we made eye contact that spoke volumes. We hugged briefly and I walked him in. With a empty living room and no place to sit because I didn't want to bed in the bedroom with the bed, we opted for, The stairs!

The stairs held a whole lot of significance throughout our relationship. According to his version of the story "I knew who you was on the stairs". It was where confirmation was established. We knew we had something just wasn't quite sure what. He posed a question that sparked it off, "what are your deficiencies?" (Nigga what? As a sapiosexual, hyperintrospective, analytical philosopher with penchant for words and an addiction to good conversation, I was gamed. It was such a playerfully crafted way to ask "bitch what are your weaknesses so I can see how I can exploit them? And I gave it up.) We talked about everything and some mo shit on the stairs. Time escaped us and if it had a been a phone call instead of In person, surely we both would have been in one of them "good conversations will have you like" positions like on instagram.

At 2am my phone rang, It was a guest that I was hosting at my other spot. She told me that the door was open when she had arrived. I went into full panic mode because I had 30 bands, at that location. I had to go!

I get off the phone and he asked me was everything okay. I said I have to go handle this but I don't want this conversation to end, will you come with me? Without any hesitation, he said yes.

Im smashing down the 110, with him in the passenger seat. He asked "How much chilly you got up over there?" I replied "Enough to be concerned about". Reality set in for us both. For me it was like "oh my fucking god, you finna show this nigga where you really live? you let him know its money over there? OMG. I learned later, his thoughts was "what the fuck are you doing Framp, what if this bitch is trying to set you up" because mind you I lived in the eneimgos.

We pulled up, I hopped out and his demonstration was militant. My funds were in tact. All was well. We left.

but how he handled the situation and ensure my safety stayed with me to this day and was the reason why I stayed after he became the one to hurt me.

We get back to K-town, it was like 3 am and we just sat in the car and talked about what happened and everything else. 4am hits he says "Hey lady, I gotta go home". He gets out and into his car. I call him and we talk for the next 2 hours.

We stayed in touch over the next few months and when he was in town again he stopped back on by. He said I had to cook for him, so I did. We ate and had more of our typical hours long conversations, filled with backstories about our pain, who caused it and how we were coping with it. One important thing he said the I never forgot was "What I love can never leave me". From that statement, I knew that If were to make any decisions about this man, I had to be serious about them. It was not a game...ghat damn death row. He ended the night by telling me he had “too much going on" and “my mouth” was too much for him. However in the spirit of Islam, he parted with "If there is a way that I can continue to be of service to you please let me know.”

A Year And Some Change

I respected his choice and I fell back. In March of 2022, I learned what "too much going on" meant. He had a baby girl. I was happy for him. I reached out and told him that I hope that through her he gets the unconditional love that he feels he is missing. He checked in but we didn't keep the conversation going. Plus with what I knew about him, and the principals I once thought he held so dear, I never would have fathomed he'd want me.

Dealing with the grief of decisions I made and seeking to be restored. I took my shahada. At that point I knew that the concept of Islam was beautiful and on the back end I knew the Muslim men are some of if not the most abusive muthafuckas on earth. And I knew that as gullible as I had been for men in the past, I would need a strong one some where in my corner for this chapter of my life. The performance of FrampCamp GoodMan was just that. Strong, "willing to abstain where others are eager to participate". His offer of service came to my mind and I thought, maybe this is how he can be of service to me, helping me learn the deen.

So I reached out .

The Pull Up 2023

When we saw each other this time around, it was…ELECTRIC! (well...for me at least because in understanding that all of this was a performance for him, I really cant claim anything to be real for him, in retrospect)

We spent hours, talking on the blue couch in the big house, “choping shit” like old pals...all over again.

There was a certain familarity that existed in the unknowningness that suggest we’ve known each other for years. It was like some real space time continum shit OR ya girl was just HONGREE, and the swine looked divine.

He had endearing eyes, and a welcoming smile and the tongue of a snake oil salesman. He possessed the strength of ten men ten toes down. He had an impeccable squabble, “ex” gangbanger but still threw it up chonky, before and after prostrating 5 times a day. He didnt drink, he didnt stink, he made me think…he mentored boys and cared about community. Hunger is a muthafucka I tell ya, and it was a feeling I knew all too well. See us fatherless daughters’ will always hunger for a man.

And the most dangerous hunger is one that has no clue what it has a taste for, the one that just knows it needs to eat. He was the amalgam of everything thing I hungered for in a man, and I ate that shit right on up.

A love With No Lies

At the start of our reunion…we laid it all on the table like “here’s my shit** and here’s yo shit, can you handle it”. I told him I wanted a love with no lies and that to get that I must be willing to tell the truth. So he asked me questions about my past including but not limited to the infamous "how many niggas have you been with?" It felt like I swallowed a boulder as I prepared to tell him the answer. But I had to suck it the fuck up because a love with no lies come with uncomfortable truth and if thats what I said I wanted I had to tell the truth. I was a “Ho” accidentally and on purpose. Not only that, I also had been with someone he was in association with (see acquaintances) I told him that too. FrampCamp Goodman this was uncomfortable. I expected based on his "principals" and general orders that, that would be the last conversation bout anything, let alone togetherness.

I cried. Hard. I knew what rejection felt like, I mean I was conceived in it. The man that made me jumped ship before the lady pregnancy strip could change colors. But this one hit different. For the first time ever, I felt unclean. I was never really one to subscribe to what a ho is or isn't. As a woman I was fully aware that any decision a woman makes or dont make, can be the worst decision she ever made by mens standards. For instance too many clothes, she's a prude. Too little clothes, she's a ho. Not having sex, the virgin to be avoided. Too much sex, she's a whore and many other things. That's just what the patriarchy did to us all. For me, I ended up with the bodies I had because I wanted to be loved. Like I had explained to him...nobody knows how this shit gone go. You meet someone, y'all get to know each other , y'all have chemistry, have sex, then shit dont workout. If exploring the idea of relationships with men I saw something in at the time made me a ho, then hi ho cherry-o, wasn't shit I could do about it now.

To my surprise he called me. He said we needed to have another nose to nose. I had made some spaghetti the other day and he wanted some. He pulled up and he told me his ugly truths. He affirmatively stated that he was going to have 3 women. That his first "wife" was onboard, that it was a part of their Nikah. She was also pregnant again, with his 4th child and that there was already a couple other women orbiting him that he hadn’t made a decision on yet. He said "Im just letting you know what it is cuz"

For me, it was acceptable because he was honest about it. You know how the game go...every woman on earth done been the other woman, with or without their consent. He let me choose my poison instead of swindling me (on this part of him).

**(For more context on what his shit was see the chapter called "Functionally Depressed")

Now before I go any further I have to introduce other characters in this story so we are going to pause right here. The continuation of this begins at the "Let You" section on the next page.

Nose To Nose

The Stairs

A Year And Some Change

A poem

The Pull Up 2023

A love With No Lies

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