Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Hold on… let me get out of earshot… Okay, I’m back. I mean, we talked about a lot. My session was about two hours long, and he called me a few months later to check on me. He has a very aggressive style of therapy, Nadia. He will curse you the fuck out, and then love on you, but that shit works. He doesn’t mess around, and he knows what the hell he is talking about. He’s brutally honest, will point out every fucked-up part about you, but that man has a heart of gold. Anyway, he explained to me that I avoided deep connections because of losing my mother—and a part of me feels like no woman can ever compare to her. Funny. You’re like my mother…”
“Yeah… that’s crazy. I can see the parallels. We were both in school and… well, anyway, what else did y’all talk about?”
“He, uh, let me think for a second… I’m trying to sum up a very intense and long therapy session on hydraulics basically. Okay. He also said that for some reason I blame my father for her death even though he didn’t have anything to do with it. I knew that logically, ya know, but on a subconscious level, I blamed him anyway. I never even thought about that, Nadia but damn if he wasn’t right. Once he explained what I was doing and why, it all made sense. It was an eureka moment.”
“So, what happened after the therapy session? Did he just say, ‘Good luck!’ and hang up?”
Lennox chuckled. “Nah, it didn’t work like that. That was just the beginning. He gave me some work to do, some exercises and assignments, and it made a huge difference. I had to do these daily questionnaires. I had to pray and meditate, and keep reading. It helped me a lot. I became true to myself.” He laughed nervously. “What’s this all about, girl? Why are you askin’ all of this anyway?”
“…I was just curious.”
“I don’t have time for this, Nadia.”
“Alright! Alright! Remember when I told you I was going to the bookstore to get my grandmother a cookbook? You won’t believe this, but I was in another aisle, and his book stuck out like a sore thumb. I picked it up and started reading it, and before I knew it, a whole damn hour had passed. I was sold. I couldn’t remember where I had heard his name mentioned before, but then I remembered what you had said. That’s why I called you. To double check if I was right.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah … cool. What book did you see?”
“ ‘Sweet Black Pussy.’ The latest edition. I bought it, too. Been reading it.”
“That’s a good one. One of his best, actually. He has a new edition, huh? I might snag that from you. Anyway, I gotta get back to work, baby.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. I look forward to seeing you for our date soon.”
“No problem. Ditto. Can’t wait to see you.” And then the call ended.
She sat there still with so many questions. What drew Lennox to this man? What made him realize he needed help in the first place, and when was he no longer afraid to get the assistance he needed? On top of all that, she had no idea that Lennox was even into interracial dating, let alone open to speaking to a guru about it. Most of the girlfriends she’d seen of his when they were younger had been White. It was burning her up all of a sudden to not have more clarity on the matter. Unable to shake it, she shot him a quick text message:
You don’t have to answer right away, and I never thought to ask before now because I guess it just didn’t matter. Why would you take courses from a man with expertise on interracial dating? I mean I know he speaks about relationships and marriage in general, but I never saw you with any Black women. Am I your first? You can be honest. I won’t be angry either way. I just want to know.
She poured herself a cup of hot tea, then returned back to reading…
…There was a time when some so-called scholars tried to imply that the woman’s brain was less intelligent because on average, it is a little smaller than her male counterparts. Well, of course it’s smaller on average, dumb asses! Women typically have a smaller bone structure than men, so naturally, her organs, protected by the bones and muscle, would be smaller than ours, too.
There was another theory that women are slaves to their emotions. Some are, some aren’t – just like some men are, and others aren’t. Yet, men are far more likely to be a loose cannon, and that is because of our hormones. We are literally manufactured to pop off when we feel it is necessary, so how can we claim that women hold the heavyweight title on this?