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In Defense of Romantic Comedies

I’m a huge fan of romantic comedies. It’s cool to see my fantasies played out on the big screen. Tales of handsome men and beautiful women falling in love entertain me no matter how many times I’ve seen them played out. The Wedding Planner, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Something New, Brown Sugar, Sweet Home Alabama, and countless others make me believe that one day, I, too, will find the unconditional love I so desperately yearn for.

Even though I’ve been hurt more times than I care to remember, I still believe that love can and will happen to me. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I that my very own Mr. Wonderful is waiting in the wings to sweep me off my feet. He’ll be cute, smart, financially sound, and perceptive enough to see me for the beautiful, sexy, intelligent angel I am. This man will think I’m the bee’s knees, the butter on his rice, and the ham hock in his collard greens all rolled up in a MackDiva-licious package, and I’ll think the same thing about him – although not in that order! Basically, he’ll look into my eyes and see his future.

As you can probably guess, this has not happened for me yet. I can’t remember the last time a guy I liked actually liked me back. The last date I went on wasn’t bad, but I can tell you that he wasn’t anyone with whom I could see myself spending exorbitant amounts of time. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very nice guy, but he’s not my type.

The last man I met who was my type only wanted to deal with me in the dark. In other words, he thought I was cool enough for relations, but not a relationship. And there in, ladies and gentlemen, lies the crux of today’s thoughts. Mr. My-Type might be coming to town this week on business. However, if his pattern stays the same, he’ll call me up for a little pleasure.

When Mr. My-Type called me the last time he was out here, I went to him because I didn’t think it was a big deal. See, we’ve actually known each other for about three years. During that time, we’d flirted, but he never made any substantial moves on me. In fact, the one time he attempted to see me, it was late on a Friday night and he wanted to bring, quote, “a bucket and a bottle,” to my home. When I told him that wasn’t a first date-type of situation, he told me, quote, “You want too much. You want a brother to take you and spend money and stuff.”

To say I was taken aback was an understatement. In fact, I was highly offended. How dare he act like I’m not worth the price of admission! Who does he think he is trying to act like I want too much because I want some food and sparkling conversation from a man who’s trying to get the goods? Since when is it a crime to be respected and treated like a lady? After deciding that Mr. was a complete idiot who’d never get to play in my garden, I was able to be cordial enough with him to be friends.

Fast forward to last year’s call. It came so completely out of the blue that I really didn’t think anything of it. I just thought he wanted to connect with me because of our friendship. When I met up with him, let’s just say that one thing led to another and we ended up doing grown-folks thangs that night.

Afterwards, I didn’t really know how to categorize our encounter. Let’s face it – I make it a point not to sleep with my friends because I know how much trouble things like that can generate. On the other hand, I had been in a dry place for so long that the oasis of his attention was refreshing to me. Besides, with him living on the east coast and me on the west, there really wasn’t a chance of emotional involvement. Or was there?

When I visited the east coast a few months later, we were carried away by our lusts again. This time, however, was totally different than the first. For one, we were at his house. It’s amazing how intimate sex can be when it takes place in a person’s personal space. Also, I was at a different place in my heart. We’d had regular conversations since our first trek down the primrose path to sin and degradation, and I liked what I heard. All those factors came together to produce an orgasm.

Before I go any further, I should tell you that I don’t reach the mountaintop very often. That’s because I know that if I relax enough to let nature take its course, my heart will soon follow. Some guys aren’t worth the trouble and concentration it takes for that fleeting moment of release. I soon found out that Mr. wasn’t either.

We had a conversation a few weeks later, and I told him that my perception of him had changed. Even though I knew that we were on opposite coasts, I wanted to know if there was any kind of way he could see us together. That’s when he let me know, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t looking to get involved – at least not with me. What we had, according to him, couldn’t go any further than a few chance encounters when we were in the same city.

I was devastated, to say the least, but I had to respect him for being honest with me. Let’s face it, how many truthful brothers do we actually know? If you’re like me, you can probably count that brother on one hand. Even though I was upset, I managed to pull it together long enough to get off the phone so I could cry alone.

Now the man who thinks that I wasn’t worthy of him is returning to southern California. While I’d love to recapture the moments we had here and at his house, I know that can’t happen. Even if he won’t respect me, I have to respect myself. I have to demand honorable treatment, and kick everyone to the curb who doesn’t want to subscribe to that magazine.

Oh, how I wish I could live out my romantic comedy. But until I do, I’ll be content to wait for the right man.

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