Updated: Dec 6, 2019

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Being beautiful is a gift and a curse. Similar to having a lot of money. Everyone wants a piece of you. Everyone wants to talk to you, be your friend, your lover, apart of your life. All because of something special you have.

That was Zebi. And I was one of those who wanted all of those things from her. Simply because she was beautiful.

From a distance I can see what type of girl she is. What type of personality she has. From her silver forearm bracelets her natural hair, flip flops. She walked tall. About 6' 1". But I was not intimidated by her height or her beauty. Because I was just as tall (being 6' 2"), just as young, and just as attractive as she was.

She past me and my friend. For some reason she wiped one of her eyes with the palm of her hand. as if wiping away a tear. It was the opening that I needed.

"Awe what's the matter sweetheart? are you OK?" She looked at me and smiled. So wide so beautifully.

"Nothing, I'm OK." She kept walking. "Well I wanna make sure. Would you mind if I talked to you for a second?"

By this time she was about 4 or five feet away. She turned, then waved me over. I left my friend like I didn't even know him. But he understood. Guy code an all.

I don't remember the exact conversation. But I do know I got the math. A couple days later I called and we hooked up and I smashed on the first night.

Zebi was attending Hunter College and was real big on helping children in her native Jamaica. She started an adolescent summer camp called 'lil raggamuffin'. While in her dorm room she asked me if I wanted to see her work. So I suffered through an hr. of watching video focused on what the summer camp was about.

Me. Thinking of sex the whole time. Acted interested. Kids playing in the jungles of Kingston, her and other staff narrating what the program is all about. I did my part. Said everything she wanted to hear. But now it's my time.


I ate her pussy. For me to do that, a chick has to be an 8 or betta.

Zebi was the finest girl I'd ever fucked. And I made love to her like it would be my last time. Just in case it would be. I kissed and licked her everywhere...everywhere...everywhere. In every position I could think of and learned from porn. I fucked the bitch like would be my last time ever doin so. My fav has always been missionary. But with Zebi, each angle was an honor to be in. And a paradise. I mean she didn't have the best pussy I'd ever had up to that point. She queefed a few times. That told me she'd been fuckin someone else recently. And I've had way better since. But she was somethin special. It was more than just the physical with this girl. I was in love. Every time we had sexy it took me awhile to finish Her body. She was so tall and had so many curves, there was a lot of ground to cover. In the words of John Mayer, a wonderland. While making love to her I told her to bark like a dog. She did. I told her to sing a song. She asked "Which one." I said "I don't give a fuck. Just sing a fuckn song!" She chose one by Marry J. Blige. I forget which one.

After I was done I wiped her pussy juices off the sides of my mouth. That was only my second time eating pussy. I don't know if she enjoyed it or not. But I think I did a pretty swell job.

Our first date was a disaster. She attended chose a night that I was flat broke. So placing hope on fate which I often do. I took her out anyways with not a penny in my pocket.

I took her to my old hangout spot on 41st street and some of my buddies happened to be there. We all talked for a while until she pointed out a Chinese restaurant that she wanted to go eat at.

Since I had no money to speak of I kept telling her "Hold on. Hold on." Until she either got the hint that I was broke or was really hungry.

Whatever the case, she went into the restaurant alone. While I stayed outside talking to my friends. Through the window, I could see her order her food. Sit down, wait for it. Then began to eat alone. I didn't know what else to do. To be honest I was just glad the meal was paid for and that I had friends to stay outside with and talk to. But looking through the window and seeing her eating alone, made me ashamed and less of a man.

What a blessing good women are. That same night we went back to her dorm and had sex. But during the visit I had another embarrassing moment. she stayed at a YMCA and visitors had to show their ID. before going up to the occupants room. And the only ID. I had was my EBT (Food stamp card). The two security guys gave me awkward looks. But those were more out of jealousy because they knew what we were goin to do her once I got her to her room.

She always wanted me to take off my shoes when I came into her place. But living on the streets did not give one many opportunities to take a shower and clean up. I knew my feet smelled. And was so embarrassed I refused. Making up every excuse in the world to keep my shoes on.

Finally she became so frustrated she jumped on the top bunk on her bed and went to sleep. While I (still with my shoes on), slept on the floor.

But to my surprise the next morning, I awoke to find her on the floor next to me asleep. It touched me I took off my shoes, opened the window, then set them on the window sill.

While awaking her by rubbing her shoulder, I repeated " Baby. Baby. Baby." And after a few gentle nudges, she awoke. And I made love to her. I even ate her pussy (for the second time).

I tried my best to hide the fact that I was homeless. I told her I stayed with a friend in Brooklyn. Luckily, a couple weeks later, I did have money coming in. Teaming up with my friend selling weed an all. Now I was able to buy her things and prevented myself from recreating that debacle at the Chinese restaurant that night.

After a month or so into our 'relationship' I was arrested. I had been caught with a zip-lock bag full of nickel bags of marijuana.

Zebi cane to visit my on Rikers Island. And even brought me some t-shirts some boxers and socks. But the C/Os would not allow me to have them because they were not 'regulation'. Meaning prisoners had to buy that stuff off commissary (A store with in the jail).

We talked for awhile. It was during the evening time when she came to see me. The visitation room held in one of the sprawling jails complexes was a little less than halfway full. Usually loud with multiple conversations going on during the day. At this time it is quieter. Not as difficult to hear each other speak like visits during the day.

Our medal folding chairs 3 feet away. We still leaned in close to one another when we spoke.

Zebi stuck out like a sore thumb. She had never been to a jail before. And it was transparent through her nativity and movements. She was oblivious to the pain and misery that surrounded her. She did things like touched me on the hands and face without hesitation (contact was against the rules during visitations). With nor fear of the guards.

She was so beautiful and seemed so out of place, inmates and visitors alike couldn't help but steal glances of her. She validated me as a man. Made me look like someone. Made people wonder. who is he to have such a beautiful girl. 'Maybe he has money, maybe is an exceptional player, maybe he is just the fuckn man.

It was towards the end of the visit that she told me she was pregnant. And that the baby was not mine.

Looking back. I knew something was off. The last time we had sex before I got locked up she never mentioned using a condom. But the last time she wouldn't let me hit without one.

She wrote to me. When I was released a couple months later she had begun to show. I called her a couple of times. And we met up for dates and sex. But during that time, I knew that I would have to depart from her life altogether.

My pride would never have allowed me to stay with a female who is impregnated by another man. No-matter how much I loved her, or wanted to see with her.

For her part. I knew she had to move on as well.

My life was going nowhere fast. In an out of jail. selling drugs. Livin on the streets. While she was in college and doing well and had the sky was the limit for her. And she needed and deserved more than what I could offer.

The last time I spoke to her I was living on Wards Island. A sprawling homeless shelter on Manhattan's east side.

I was in the day room. The worst place to be while talking to someone over the phone. The TV was located there. A place where shelter residence congregated to talk, make deals and watch television.

She never mentioned anything about money. Or The way I dressed (which was not the best attire). But one time while on her way to pick up her girl friend at Grand Central, she did seem in a rush to get rid of me.

One of the last things she said to me over the phone was, I don't know how to say goodbye to you."

I responded. "Just say goodbye." She did. And that was the last time I've spoke or seen my Zebi. A girl like never came into my life again. And likely never will.

I've thought about her often over the years. Trolled her a few times on Facebook. And she made a couple of YouTube videos about her progress in life. She seemed to be doing great with her charity work for Jamaican youth. And graduated college. She ended up having a baby girl. And even featured her in some of her promotions for her camp.

I've never reached out to her. Left her a message. I just watch her from afar. And stayed out of her way.

In hindsight, she was a slowly dissipating form each time that I saw her. A defining essence that explained my wants in life but always seemed to slowly slip through my fingers.

Like many of us, my Zebi was simply one more reminder that we will never have what we long for in this life.