That evening she came to visit you. She carried a small plastic bag that smiled of food, the kind you don't eat everyday except on important occasions. And as you ate the fried rice and tore through the laps of the chicken she brought, you felt good, like a man -a real man. The cake was moist, soft and expensive -you could tell from the taste, this girl has money. That night you slept with her, it was just that. Maybe to her it was more but you didn't care. She thought it was loving making as she sighed with pleasure from every thrust, But you knew it wasn't loving making, it was just you taking what was given to men from the days of Eden. 

Tomorrow you'll joke about it with friends. They will call you smart and she a dumb whore. You are the boss, you knew that already, but you don't mind hearing it; it always made you feel good.

That night you dreamt of her pursuing you with a knife. You woke up, said a quick prayer -your mother always insisted you pray after having a bad dream-, and then you looked at her as she slept. So beautiful and innocent yet so stupid and blind. Ha! Girls are dimwits. But that was it, she was leaving. Hadn't your pastor told your parents to pray against all unfriendly spirit in your life? Besides the dream must be a revelation from God. You have to end this relationship, or whatever it is between you both, before she kills you - after all you are the only son of your parents. But you'll miss her. She was different from others, Subservient without being too emotionally tasking and dependent. She cooked, washed and took care of you without asking for a dime in return. A good girl, that's what she is, She will probably find a good man to marry her someday.

But we men are suffering oh, you thought, after a girl has been used till there is little mileage in her, a man is still expected to marry her.