Summer Reading Pick #3 “Have You Ever” by Fifi Cureton

Today’s Summer Pick is from the sensational, Fifi Cureton.

Who is Fifi Cureton?

I am a full-time Mother of 2, a Daughter and a Son and a part-time Author. I currently reside with my family in Newark, NJ where I continues to write. I have 3 finished books, one published HAVE YOU EVER…? The other two coming soon WOULD YOU EVER… AGAIN?  And JUICY, both due out the end of the year.

My debut book Sprung (New Title “HAVE YOU EVER…?) Was published in 2005, but due to publishing difficulties the contract was ended. I am now under A New Quality Publishing.

Why I wrote Have You Ever…? It was because of the abusive relationship that I was in, he did not hit me but the mental abuse hurt just as bad. I couldn’t go to my friends and family for advice because they were advising me to do things that they weren’t doing in their relationship, in other words they were giving out bad advice period. This was my therapy; I was able to get away from the dreadful real world into a world where I had total control of the outcome. After completing then reading my book I realize what I needed to do with that relationship, which was run as fast and as far away as possible.

Quicky Book Excerpt:

If Your Heart Isn’t In It!!

When I think of Love, I think about pain.

Why, you asked?

Well, every time I fall in Love with someone I end up in a lot of pain.

I don’t know why so many people say Love is a wonderful thing.


Not the Love I‘ve been through and seen.

All you get out of Love is pain.

Do we as women misconstrue the word “LOVE?”

Are we that blind, if it hurts, it must be Love, cause to me, Love hurts.

I’d rather not fall in Love, if I have to cry damn near every night, fight and beg for attention and pray to god he’s not cheating on me, and all that other shit we encounter. Then I don’t want LOVE!

F— THAT!!!!!!!

~Prologue ~

“Stop ringing my muthaf—-in phone!” I said yelling through the phone lines. “I do not want to talk to your f–kin a– right now…!”There’s nothing to talk about Raquan!… Do you   understand the words comin out of my mouth! ok; well understand this (click).

Ooh..I’m telling you god must be by the man side tonight! If I had a gun, it would be raining blood tonight!

Tossing and turning in my bed for the most of the night, as tears made it impossible for me to focus, images of how much damage could be done to him flashed through my mind. Only GOD can keep my weary body plastered to the bed.

How could he hurt me? I can’t believe I let this man hurt me… again. “Why the f–k can’t I just walk away.  Sleep couldn’t erase the pain that slashed across my heart like a surgeon’s knife, leaving a visible mark. That is it, I’m never gonna hand my heart over to another man again! And to think I thought Raquan was different, he swore up and down he wasn’t like the other clown a– nigga I dealt with. Humph, our relationship was going to the next level so I thought, marriage, maybe more kids, even buying a home together. Granted, he isn’t the affectionate type but he was trying to be, at least with the trips, the sneaking to my house in the middle of the night just to cuddle, the just because kisses, I mean that’s what it seem to me anyway.

Just when I thought this is the one, he turns out not being the one. Not saying that he can’t be the one, but how I’m feeling right now…he ain’t the one! I mean I might say f–k’em, but knowing me I’ma end up back f–king him.

Placing a medium size feather filled pillow over my face, trying to suffocate those toxic thoughts. Damn, even the pillow carried his scent, causing anger to resurface yet again, so I sent the pillow flying across the dark filled room, knocking down the unlit candles on top of the dresser. Sleep is clearly staying away from me tonight Home Safe Securities is expecting me to be in at eight o’clock, hah! If sleep doesn’t come soon-anger would take over again, leaving no room for common sense. Then my job would have one less employee to worry about.

Slowly turning over in the bed, a cool breeze from the crisp fall air flowed through, caressing my smooth, thick, mocha tan skin, leaving a sudden calm in its wake. That calm was short lived. I was ready to brave the New Jersey chill to take care of business, to show that muthafucka who not to f–k with!

“God, please help me fall asleep, and free my mind of these thought.” I whispered, as I looked up at the ceiling with a tear resting on the corner of my eye. Thoughts of how I let this man come into my life and destroy my self-esteem.

Damn! Fell from my lips echoing in my bedroom like a rooster hollering in a tunnel. What the f–k happen? What had I done? Then just as sudden as the thoughts swept in, reason followed: Why do we as women blame ourselves, it not us, it’s them! How come it just can’t be the man’s fault and not ours? Why do we sit back and ask ‘why he do me like that? Why?  Because we let them, that’s why.

I swear somebody put a curse on my a–, and it is all because of my past. Back then, I must admit I’ve done some f–ked up s–t to niggas. I would cheat, have at least two of them helping out with my kids birthday party, and inviting both of them, I’ve token them for their money, made them buy my friends s–t and even made them leave there wives or girlfriend and have them stay out all night with me, f–king, eating and mo’ f–kin me. I would never commit to them and wouldn’t allow them to say I love you. It they did… they would never hear from me again. But now, at age 31, maturity has finally kicked in changing a wild, spontaneous, don’t-give-a-fuck girl into a responsible, caring, stay at home woman.

Now that I’m trying to change and become serious about falling in love and settling down with one man, look what happens. He treats me like I’m a hood rat disturbing his peace. Getting the hang of this falling in love and getting him to fall in love with me shit is damn near impossible, I’m convinced loves means pain.

S–t, the next time a man tells me he loves me, I wouldn’t give a f–k how fine he is, how professional and paid he is, I wouldn’t give a f–k how big his d–k is, I’ma run as fast as I can, like one Crypt member running from a gang of Bloods, f–k that! Love to me sounds more like: I’ll rip your f–kin heart out and stomp on it! I’ll crush your self-esteem! I’ll cheat, and most importantly, I’ll make you pray to god every night that you wished you’d never met me! It is not love anymore when I’m left feeling empty, and killing is the first and last thing on my mind. Suddenly I sat up slipped into my Baby Phat black sweats pants, black hoodie, and black Timbs, having lost the battle with sanity, I grabbed a large wad of cash from my safe deposit box that is safely hidden in my closet, I prepared to face the cold, buy a gun from Monta from the Trap and take back my heart the only way I knew how… But reality kicked in when I heard my son Ja’Mil voice “Where you going, ma,” he said rubbing his eye. That nigga ain’t worth it, I thought.

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