Skip to main content
I had to laugh when I read Janelle's post because it was almost like she got inside my head and wrote my words. I, too, have been writing but not publishing. My reasons were much like hers in that I wasn't ready to reveal certain things. However, I'm at a place now where I'm going to have to share.

In order to tell this current story, I'm going to have to go back to another time and place in my life...

The year was 2000, and I was living in the Bronx. My hairdresser, my only friend at the time, had invited me out to kick it after my appointment. The plan was to have drinks and hit a club. So there we were, two beautiful women taking in the nightlife in New York City. We hit the bar, stayed for a while, and headed to the club. Even though my friend is tall and gorgeous, she wasn't giving the men any play because she's happily married.

I, on the other hand, was just trying not to look like wallpaper in her presence. At some point, we got separated as she fended off the testosterone-fueled attention she was getting. I was kind of standing around enjoying the view when this little guy asked me to dance. After surmising that he wasn't a complete troll, we hit the floor. While I'll never be accused of being Denny Terrio -- and if you're too young to recognize the name, you probably shouldn't be reading this -- the liquor in my system allowed me to hold my own with this dancing machine.

We must've put in about an hour before we decided to take a break. By this time, we were both sweaty, and the libations in my system were starting to wear off. When he offered to buy me a drink, I requested water. He brought it back, and we were able to start the standard introductory line of questioning that usually starts with, "Are you married, do you have kids, etc." When he asked me why I was single with no children, I told him that I hadn't found my "Mr. Right." That's when he gave me his business card. Guess what his name was? Mr. Wright! We had a big laugh about it, and since he was into computers, I promised to call him with my fix-it needs.

Well, sure enough, my machine was having issues about three days later. I called Mr. Wright, and he promised to come by and look at it. When he got there, he looked it over as I looked him over. He was short, but he was still taller than me. Also, he was actually attractive. After he'd done all he could do for my computer, he turned his attention to me. Our conversation soon turned to kissing. As I was trying to find a good reason not to take him down the primrose path to sin and degradation, he said to me, "Make me earn it."

To say I was completely blown away would be an understatement. Here was a man actually turning down a chance to get busy. I didn't quite know how to take it, but I let him go home. He called later, but we eventually lost touch.

Fast forward a few months later. We ran into each other somewhere downtown, and we started hanging out. By this time, I guess he felt like he'd earned the right to take me down, and that's exactly what he did. I found out that he was multi-orgasmic. (Sidebar: Ladies, if and when you ever find a multi-orgasmic man, keep him close at hand because it's one of the most wonderful problems a man can have.) It was so intense that I had to ask him to back up off of me after about three solid hours. Needless to say, I was completely strung out. He became my drug of choice, and I was hitting it -- pun intended -- every chance I got. It got so bad that I felt like I was looking for him in the daytime with a flashlight.

Mr. Wright, on the other hand, wasn't as sprung as I was. Yes, he enjoyed himself, and he liked me, but he thought I was getting too serious too fast. In my mind, I couldn't EVER see myself sleeping with anyone else, while he didn't know if monogamy was something he wanted to pursue. His idea was to take things slow and decide along the way if I was the person with whom he could be monogamous. I told him straight up that if he ever slept with someone else, he wouldn't be able to get my goods.

Being the typical man that he was, he decided to test me. Since I was working nights, he would IM me when I woke up. This particular morning, he said that he'd slept with someone. I was hurt, but I pulled myself together enough to ask him if it was good. He said that it wasn't because he didn't feel anything. I said, "Well, that's too bad. I don't know what to tell you." That's when he asked me if I was serious about cutting him off. I said that if he'd thought I was serious, why did you jeopardize it. Even though he later begged and pleaded, I was firm in my conviction, and he eventually left me alone. Although we've had contact over the years -- mostly through IMs and the occasional phone conversation -- I've kept my word.

Fast forward to 2008. I'm living in Los Angeles. Now he's decided that he can't possibly live without me for another moment, and he's bringing his A-game. He saying that he finally sees the error of his ways, and that he needs someone he can love and trust to build a life with, and that person is me. And why, you ask? Because I'm the only woman he's ever met who can hang with him intellectually, make him laugh, and be a great lover all in one. He knows that half-stepping with me isn't an option, and he's determined to do all he can to get me back. He's even trying to help me find a way back to New York.

While I love hearing things like this, I don't know how to take it. Our relationship was intense, to say the least. He broke my heart in so many ways, and it took some time to get past it. I don't know if some areas will ever heal, and the thought of revisiting his brand of pain isn't exactly on my top ten list of things to do.

However...

I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't curious. While some people believe in the adage, "Once a cheater, always a cheater," I don't. I actually think people can change. However, I'm not in the mood to be played. That's why I'm listening to what he's saying and watching what he's doing, and not allowing myself to get caught up in the hype.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.