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mysteriouslydarktale-blog · 8 years ago

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Downgrade

On February 14th, 2017, my boyfriend posted a picture of me on social media after 6 months of consistently dating him. It was a striking picture with a bold magenta backsplash and heart emoticons embellished along the border. I was front and center, head tilted slightly to the side, hair long wearing my signature awkward half smile.

We were out celebrating Valentine's day earlier that evening and I didn't notice that he posted it until after our date. Instead of immediately removing my dress when I reached home, I went online to surf through my social media accounts.

I was ecstatic at the 149 likes that the post had already garnered. Our relationship, although extremely private, was officially made public for the first time. It gave me a little anxiety to think about and I had to throw my phone on the other side of my bed to keep from having a mini panic attack. After composing myself and giggling a little bit, I clenched the phone and started to read the comments. They were overwhelmingly positive…

-"Wow, Bron…she's bad."

-"Ooooo…cuzzy got a new girlfriend. She's cute."

-"Congrats bro!

-"Aww, she's pretty!

-"My man!"

-"Yay, I love Victoria!"

I was super excited to say the very least - I was having such an amazing day. The weather in South Philadelphia was relatively warm for February at a cool 59 degrees. My neighborhood, which was usually bustling with movement and loud noises, was very still and everyone seemed to be moving leisurely.

It was as if their steps were slowed down a little bit and they actually took the time to smell all the corner store bought red roses. It was Valentine's day and I didn't feel miserable or bitter. It was Valentine's day and I felt absolutely loved, admired, cherished and relieved that I found someone great to share this day with.

I started to remove my dress. It was a little difficult to get out of because of the thin latex material but it was worth it. The dress was dress was black, short and pretty revealing. I don't usually show myself off but tonight I was feeling very bold. We ended the night politely and by politely I mean we made out. I never truly liked or appreciated kissing until I met Labron.

His kisses are simultaneously tender and passionate. He was aggressive and gentle, he was dominant and submissive and his hands were always on the small of my back or the roots of my hair. He was ravenous and attentive and highly sensual but – we never had sex.

Tonight, I wanted to have sex. I was definitely ready to get fully intimate with my boyfriend – this was the longest I've ever held out in every relationship that I've had. I was looking great and feeling even better. It was Valentine's day and roughly six months since we've been together. Oh yes, tonight was definitely the night!

I wanted to change first and slip into something more appropriate for the occasion. Earlier that week, I had purchased a very racy, un-Victoria like lingerie set. It was a bright coral color with a patch of lacy material on the front part of the thong. The store attendant raved about how much it would complement my caramel complexion. I was hesitant at first but was very fond of the color – so I went ahead with this chancy purchase!

After getting everything on, I observed myself in the mirror. My makeup was already done from today's events and still looked impeccable. I grimaced a little as a I further scrutinized my frame - I was on the smaller side. I always hated my figure. I had very subtle curves but I desired obvious, voluptuous curves. I didn't care for being so petite. My hands and forehead were particularly big and there was some discoloration across my body. I was far from perfect but I was also kind of cute. I smiled at myself and instead of the usual awkward half-smile, I grinned wholeheartedly – with anticipation, excitement and sensuality.

"I'm about to get laid!" I said to myself and it felt better than ever before because I waited until I was ready.

I grabbed my phone and sent a text to my boyfriend. 'Come over baby, I'm ready for you."

"Omw," He replied back in less than a minute. Goosebumps erupted all over my forearms, I was so excited.

I sent him a red heart emoticon and opened up the social media app, "Showyaface," where the Valentine's day selfie was uploaded. I was really happy to see that the post gained 232 likes. I rolled my eyes momentarily because I knew that Labron was insanely popular on social media but still 232 likes in less than 2 hours! I started reviewing the comments.

-"J <3 Happy Valentine's day!"

-"Yassss Vicki!"

-"#Goals"

- C'mon Bron, she's a downgrade, you know this– Ashley was way badder –"

-"Aww Labron…who's that---"

There were about 5 or 6 more comments but I couldn't continue on reading. Someone actually had the audacity to post something so utterly…uncalled for…. on my boyfriend's post! The post of me! I couldn't believe it. I've never come across something so bold. I drew the post closer to my face to make certain that I was reading it correctly. "…downgrade…Ashley was way badder." I felt clenching in my throat. I wasn't understanding why I was reacting so poorly. Downgrade? Harsh. But maybe….

At first I was shocked, then I was angry and then I felt consumed with sadness and…vulnerability and a little bit of inadequacy.

I tapped twice on her avatar to view her profile. Her username was pretty_dimples_90 but I recognized her as Sandra from my 7th grade literacy class. I was a little taken aback to see her considering that she transferred to a new school in a different town after middle school. I was even more shocked to see that she was a friend of my boyfriend's. I scrolled down her profile and briskly came across a picture of her posing with another girl. The girl was tagged as AshesnAshley_. It became immediately apparent that this was the Ashley that Sandra was talking about. It was even clearer that the two were extremely close friends.

I clicked to view Ashley's page.

Wow.

She was stunning.

She appeared to be some kind of Asian. She was tall and curvaceous and had an unimpeachable sense of fashion. According to her bio, she worked as an Assistant Manager at Barney's downtown. This girl was perfect and I suddenly felt overexposed and…just hideous. Apparently, she was his ex-girlfriend. I didn’t ever remember him mentioning her and I was confused as to why it took me this long to find her. I couldn't look away. She was a sight.

Sandra was right…I am a downgrade.

I walked over to my closet and pulled out my favorite plush robe. I needed to cover myself. I needed to succumb into a ball and roll up under my comforters. I needed to loosen the knot in my throat and let a few tears fall. Just a few. I suddenly felt unbelievable unattractive and embarrassed. I couldn't help but to focus on that one comment. She was Beyoncé and I was feeling like Michelle x3 with a bad weave. How could he have let her go for me? Obviously, Labron felt seriously sorry for me when he decided to give this relationship a chance.

I went from feeling incredible to feeling repulsive in matter of seconds. I retreated back to my bed and began to lay down, hoping that some sleep would lessen the complete humiliation that I felt. I barely closed my eyes before Labron came strolling in. I sat up in bed and he immediately went over for a kiss. I conspicuously turned away.

"Hey babe," He said frowning slightly. He gently grasped my hands and pulled me up on my feet. Pushing the material of the robe away with one hand, he kissed my collarbone instead. That little sneak. "Why you look so bothered?"

I decided not to beat around the bush. "How come you didn't delete that comment from Sandra? She said I was a downgrade Bron…from Ashley or whoever the fuck. How do you even know Sandra?"

He looked genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?" His hands were still on my shoulders and he was looking down at me carefully. I clumsily tried to reopen the post and shoved the phone into his hands. '

"There! She's bold for writing that...like seriously?"

His brows furrowed and he didn't seem angry or surprised…but very curious. "I didn't see any of these notifications – I'm sorry---"

"Who's Ashley?" I asked accusingly. The front of my robe untied and revealed the lingerie underneath. I barely realized it but didn't care because I was heartbroken. Labron didn't seem to notice either because his eyes were focused on mine. He was truly handsome and It took a significant amount of strength for me not to succumb into his embrace. I had to remain firm but I was slowly forgetting why I was angry in the first place.

"Ashley?" He replied. I grew enraged when he said her name. "I don't know, she's someone I used to talk to a couple of years back. Nothing serious."

"Are you sure she's not creeping back into your life?"

"I'm sur—"

"Why are you even with me anyways? She's fucking beautiful." I felt extremely weak for saying it. But the words were like vomit, they were impulsive and difficult to resist. "I mean…no…but did you feel sorry for me or something? Am I the sorry rebound?"

"Vic, calm down. That's not at all what this is. That's wild – please stop." He paused for a second. "I dated her for a few months but it didn't work out – and her friends were crazy."

"Well, why didn't it work out?" I said, a tiny bit softer this time.

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter!" I pushed back in frustration. "Bron…wow, compared to her I'm like a fucking clown. I feel like a clown. She's beautiful – she's fucking bad Bron! And this other girl really had the audacity to comment under your post like that? I can't believe that shit."

"It doesn't matter. I love your personality."

Now, when someone says they love your personality, it's usually code for 'I think you're ugly but your personality kind of makes up for it."

"Wow, thank you Labron. Thank you," my voice was oozing with sarcasm. "You love my personality. I am definitely the class clown." I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, it was becoming exceedingly difficult to keep from crying.

"No, seriously…I really love your personality." He started and pinched my arms softly when I tried open my mouth in interjection. "You're the coolest female I've ever dated and I mean that sincerely. You're intelligent, you're caring, you're awkward but in a cute way – you’re attentive, you ask questions, you're an amazing listener. You're so dope. I love everything about your personality."

I still wasn't convinced. "Okay."

"Okay," he started again. "Ashley was a cute girl. I'm not going to lie about that but she had the worst personality ever. She was hateful and she complained constantly – and she was just a little too vain and materialistic for me. She was cool in the looks department but her personality was trash," he looked down at my lips. "She wasn't you."

Labron began to close the space between us. "We don't even have to have sex tonight. I can see you're a little dressed up and a little upset – that just doesn't mix."

In intense situations like this, I would sweat profusely. I could feel little beads of sweat forming on my forehead. He smiled – wow. "And also, you're absolutely gorgeous. You don't ever have to be insecure in the looks department. You got it. You're bad. You – your lips, your cheeks, your frame, your ears, your eyes. You are everything. Don't get all flustered. I like you and no one else." He combed his fingers through my barely-tamed curls and lifted my chin.

I couldn't look at him directly in his face. I was utterly humiliated and felt silly for overreacting. Labron was a very attractive man. He was tall, toned, haircut low, teeth white with a gorgeous smile and a chic way of dressing. I often wonder if people think about why he chose me – but I guess he was right. Nothing really mattered. All that mattered was us. Here. I had to compose myself. I didn't want to ruin this night. I quickly realized that it didn't matter why he chose me. I was just eternally grateful that he did. Tonight, in this moment. I pushed back any insecurities and doubts. Usually, it feels terrifying to feel so vulnerable but tonight, it felt more natural.

I looked back at him. "Thank you," I stood up on my toes and kissed him on the lips. I pulled off my robe, revealing the sexy, lacy material. "Let's go."

And he began to kiss me - in the contradictory way that he always does. Fast and slow. Hard and soft... Vigorous and affectionate. It was a metaphor for how this night was going to end.

And slowly, I began to feel like the opposite of a downgrade. I felt like a queen…and I was finally with my king.

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