Is There Love in the Ghetto

By N. Radesco

Is there love in the ghetto? Does anybody know? Hopefully, by reading this book, you will get to find out. In this book, you’ll read my version of my love story. You know how there are three sides to every story: his, mine, and the truth. Well, this is my truth to finding love in the ghetto. This book was written from the heart. It’s about love in the ghetto and how it started and how it ended. In the book, you’ll read about some interesting aspects in my life: the drama I had to face and live with until this day. You’ll feel and understand how much I love my man and my sons. I wrote this book with tears in my eyes. This book was made from love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640271333

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Is There Love

in the Ghetto

N. Radesco

Copyright © 2017 N. Radesco

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-64027-132-6 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64027-133-3 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Ifound love in the ghetto. The ghetto is where my love story began.

It was a regular summer day. I saw him like I always did, but this time, he saw me. What was different about today? What I didn’t know was that a setup, or should I say a lie, was brewing in the air. This day was going to be different. Something was going to happen, but I just had no idea what it was or how big it would be. I was in the ghetto, or I should say the hood. Not many love stories come out of the ghetto. The history of the ghetto was that love doesn’t live here. Love was not something that existed. Many people fell in and out of love so quick. So I say, was it love or was it just lust? What is love? That is the big question. We all see love very differently. Can anybody really tell us what love is? I believe everybody views love differently. But is love different for each individual? When we’re in love, we all go through similar pain and sorrow. It’s different but somewhat the same. I know love. I believe I do. I believe there’s love in the ghetto because I found it. Is it still love if only one person feels it? Some people view love as another four-letter word. In the ghetto, can two people really find love? The answer is yes.

I’ve been in love with the same man for twenty years. I’ve learned so many things about love that I don’t know where to begin. There are good things about love, and then there are some bad things also. When in love, especially in the ghetto, it’s complicated. Sometimes you need more than just love. There are a lot of steps to this love story. There are so many years invested in it. In this love story, I have to start in the beginning so you can understand.

It was the summer of 1995, where we were in the middle of a heat wave. I saw him. I usually see him everywhere. Today I really saw him; he was sexy, cute, and he had swagger. He was very conceited; he knew he had it, whatever it was. Was it love at first sight? I don’t know. He was someone different; he was out of my league. I was normal; I wasn’t one of those pretty, prissy girly girls. I was ghetto. That’s how people saw me. I was in the park with my sister. We were hanging out with a friend of my mom’s. He knew my sister and me since we were little. I looked crazy. I had three ponytails, a Jealous Ones Envy shirt on. I had shorts and some slippers on. I looked crazy. I didn’t think he would notice me. I wouldn’t look at me if I were him. He was in the park with a friend of ours. We knew the same people. We just never talked before. He was in a funny relationship with some chick. She wasn’t important to me. Everyone knew him and her had history. How did I fit in? I didn’t. I never would have thought that a guy like him would even think about being with a girl like me. Besides, he was with that older chick. I was younger than she was. I didn’t know that our friend he was with was about to lie to him about me and lie to me about him.

While in the park, my mother’s friend started playing a little rough with my sister. So I had to step in and poke him. I didn’t really hurt him. I just did, what my mom taught me to do. Well, later on that day, the friend came over to my house and told me that — — liked me and asked about me. Would I like to talk to him? I didn’t believe him; I looked busted earlier that day. Why would he like me or want to talk to me? I was confused, so I told my mom. She said not to meet him. This is going to be trouble. Little did I know she was somewhat right. Part of me wanted him. I wanted to know him. I believed this was a trick. This guy wanted to meet me? Why? Little did I know the same friend told him the same thing he told me. I had a feeling it was a lie, but I said, I’ll meet him.

You know how we females are. We have doubts, but we like the challenge. I wanted to see where or how far this would go. I heard stories about him. He was a player; he had all types of chicks. Some people would say he’s my Mr. Wrong. You never know someone until you really get to know the person yourself. I started thinking really hard about this meet.

We met and talked for a while, and during our conversation, we found out we were both set up. I realized if we weren’t set up, we probably would have never hooked up. It was nice! He was nice; we had a good conversation. We had our first kiss, and it was beautiful. It was like a drug. His kiss was so powerful I think that’s what trapped me early on. We became friends before we became lovers. And that’s where our journey began.

We started spending a lot of time together. Many nights he would come over to my house where I lived with my mom. I was seventeen; he was nineteen. We had a special call. So when he would come over, he would do the special call out my window. We watched shows together and talked so much. It was amazing, the communication. I believe that was the key to our new relationship. I was falling for this man, and I was falling. But I held my composure. I let things fall into place on their own.

We started going out with our friends, and we would say we were brother and sister. We were cool like that; we decided to take it slow. But it was better this way. I know to some people it might sound crazy, but it was our thing. We still had the haters coming to me and telling me things about him with other girls. It bothered me sometimes, and sometimes I started to believe the people. I looked at it like, what can I do? Either feed into it or just ignore it. We were good where we were; it was fun and exciting. I knew we were good. I liked what we were doing because we both didn’t want to jump into something we were not ready for. Besides, we were still young.

We had an understanding. Sometimes it worked, and I truly can say sometimes it didn’t. We argued like a regular couple, but we weren’t a couple. We both stopped arguing and looked at each other, and we realized what we were. We were what people would call friends with benefits (first). It sounds worse than what it was. But we all know sooner or later feelings get involved, and that’s where the trouble began. I had someone, and so did he. But when we were with each other, there was no one else but us.

In time things got complicated. Then the drama came. He had a lot of baggage. I found out things about him that were crazy that should’ve scared me away. But when you play with fire, you get burned. I started falling for this man, and I couldn’t and I didn’t want to walk away. It was crazy where things were going; he was like a chick magnet. Either every chick wanted him or had him. I had to stop and think, was this what I want in my life? Where were we going to end up? Was I going to end up as another notch under his belt, or was I going to be forever! When we all know nothing lasts forever.

Being with him made me feel special; my body never knew such pleasure, and my heart never knew such pain. When we made love, it felt like magic. As time went by, our feelings grew deeper and deeper. But so did the drama. I let go of the relationship I was in for him. But it wasn’t as easy for him, not just yet. We did so many things together; we smoked weed and talked for hours. We always made some special great love. It was inexplicable we were becoming one. I couldn’t see anything or anyone else but him. I knew he was going to take my heart and keep it. As females we get to a place where we lose ourselves, but I was not there yet. I was still me the girl I was when I first met him.

We made love whenever we could; it was so exciting and fun. We enjoyed ourselves. When we made love, we were one; it was different. It was like it was just us in the world. We were a perfect match when it came to making love. You ever had that special kind of love? He was special. I always told him that. Not because I wanted to be with him but because I really believed it. There was something about him that was different. Who would have guessed how far we would go? Or should I say make it? With a guy like him came many female problems. Some bitches were crazy; some knew what time it was. But was I ready for this life, all this drama? Was it worth it? Was he worth it? I said, Fuck it. Let’s see where it goes.

I liked the challenge. I liked the touch, the kisses, the love making. I think I was starting to like it too much. But was he feeling the way I was? I didn’t think so, not yet. But soon he would, I believed that. This random chick right here was going to get this special guy and keep him for myself. So I went along with our plan. We were just messing around for now, but for how long? Things would go smooth for a while, but you know once feelings get involved, it complicates things. Some girls could avoid their feelings, but was I one of them? Time would tell!

We tried to make it official. For a little while we spend a lot more time together. Our conversation was very special; our time spent together were priceless. We were boyfriend and girlfriend now. But that was easier said than done. There are a lot of haters in this world. Especially our world, his and mine. This is what happened: we were official, and lots of people knew it. Many people had a problem with it, some didn’t. But the majority of people couldn’t see us together. People started talking telling me bullshit, and for a while, I didn’t believe it. But one time I fell for the bullshit. Here’s what happened. We were good; we had our own little thing going on. It was a school day because a mutual friend came to me and said she saw him with a girl by the school. And I believed it. Guess what happened. We broke up. He left me, and I felt like shit. I never forget what he told me. He said, Find yourself by yourself, and I did.

We were not together anymore, but we still hung out in the same block with same circle of people. That was hard. We had, or should I say, had a lot of songs that came out that reminded me of him. I knew what he was about (his reputation), but what we had, or should I say, what we were trying to build was different. This man was becoming a part of me very quickly. I couldn’t explain it or even understand it.

He was special, and he knew it. I told him every chance I got. It was hard to forget him and even harder not to fall for him. I’ve been in a lot of relationships before, but you know we all say this one is different, and who would’ve thought it really was. Keep in mind this man had been with a lot of women. And we all think we’re different, but we are really not. I was going to be the one he loved and couldn’t live without. Who would’ve thought we would’ve made it this far? Now that we weren’t together anymore, I had to deal with a lot of bullshit. He still was on my mind day and night. I would hear so many songs that reminded me of him. Everybody knew we weren’t together anymore. Some people felt my pain, and some enjoyed seeing me hurt, but this is the ghetto, and evil lurks everywhere.

Do I give up? Or do I try to get him back, if it’s even possible? Days went on, and we still were not together, but on occasion, we spent time together. We were cool when we chilled together; we were friends. We talked for hours and smoked, and we chilled. When we were by ourselves, we were good. In the streets it was totally different. He had a reputation he had to live up to. He was a big player. He broke many hearts. It looked like I was the next one. Why didn’t I walk away when I had the chance? Many people told me to walk away! (I didn’t.) We females believe we can change a man or fix him, but that’s not possible. (We can’t raise a man.) As women we still try; it’s in our nature. So we were not together; he did him, I did me. But some nights we ended up together.

It’s crazy when you get in a relationship with someone you see a lot of people’s true intentions. Being with this man, I’ve learned so much. Good and bad. People are evil, especially females. They are the most evil. By this time I had to deal with his ex and new ones (all types). When you are with a man that is a player, it’s hard. You get tested, and people, or should I say females, make you come out your character. We stood separate for a while. He played his games; he was young, so was I. Who would’ve thought what we’d do and accept for love? He would always find me time after time. He made me feel like what we had was louder than love!

The summer went on, and we still were in the same circle. We went to parties and boat rides together. We still spent time together as friends and sometimes as lovers. I was falling deeper and deeper in my feelings for this man. But his feelings weren’t the same. I wondered if I put my heart into this (whatever it was), would he cherish my love, my heart, body, and soul? Could this man be capable of