Epiphany

I go through
All this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be
Safe Again with you
Bjork

So I discovered that I have an addiction! I am addicted to unavailable men. Cliche, as it sounds I truly received that message today. I search out the disappointments of men standing me up, avoiding my calls, and ignoring my needs. Its quite possibly the only thing I know of men.

I went to an Art Event tonite. My second featuring the talented Fahamu Pecou. I barely had two dimes to rub together, and I knew there would be free booze at the Gallery, so there I was. I got there extremely late. I had invited a guest. A gentleman I had been having great sex with for a number of weeks. The invitation was an attempt to move our relationship out of the bedroom.

I breached the subject of becoming more than bed buddies and he shared an enthusiasm to have more. There is the issue. Why did, I decide to move our sexual relationship into the platonic. Because, I had to know he couldn't follow through!

In my case, I am addicted to challenge. The challenges I'm addicted to are those I have struggled to overcome my entire life. The task in my mind is to get a man to want me, irregardless of if I truly want him. The less I want him the better. Father issues. Check!

My dad is a classic deadbeat! It took years for me to relieve him from his pedestal. I never acknowledged that his efforts were lackluster. I believed everyone that told me not to tear down my father's image due to his life choices. He was relieved of responsibility by everyone, so I let him off the hook too!So the first man I ever knew ,was the man I know least ,but feel the most drawn too. That's fucked!

I am searching for strangers. I need the men in my life to be enigmatic and hard to tie down or I get fearful. I just cant believe a man has the integrity to say what they mean, although I require
myself to live in honesty. I dare myself daily to be the honest man, I never met. The one thing I craved most, I give readily, a reason. I don't even care if its sufficient! I will settle for the excuse of not knowing better. I don't mind if you make the biggest goof a man can make, just offer an explanation. After that, I can decipher things like consistency and self responsibility. I can feel safe again with him. I can feel safe because I can take on the monster of uncertainty with that one head of the hydra removed.

I recognize that I began taking steps away from this addiction, long before I had these words. The clarity of admittion will hopefully lead me to a future of requiring answers and demanding accountability for the ways people handle my time, body, and emotions. And not only when they have done something wrong.


AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

What dont happen in a year
Happens in a Day!
Dem Say

So Atlanta is finally unfolding for me. Letting me in to see the social side of this otherwise working class town. I had the best weekend ever! Here is the rundown.

Friday

I am dressed in my favorite uniform, Blue jean jacket and distressed denim pants. I have accented the blues with a beautiful pumpkin orange silk scarf. My new street hikers are olive green and they gently blend into the worn edges of my jeans. I feel very sexy.

I'm off to attend a Talk Show. Its talk show as installation piece by Atlanta artist, Fahamu Pecou. The guests include the editor-in-chief of local rag Creative Loafing, a local Art Critic, a guitar playing man mummified in Toilet Paper, and a founding producer of the Dungeon Family hip hop crew. I stood in the back. I learned so much about Atlanta pop culture. This City seems to be much more aware of the death of Nightlife than any other , I have encountered. I figure its due to the amount of Money, Atlanta saw during that period. As usual, I'm always too late for the real fun.

The ease with which everyone related was refreshing. It showed a capacity for diversity, that I feared this City lacked. Fahamu's candid nature and, fashionable appearance helped to maintain the edge of the scene. Mnsr. Pecou sports a "Gumby" ( that I learned in Atlanta has a much more complicated name), wears vintage suiting, and never removes his aviators. He is Bobby Brown meets Chris Rock with a sprinkling of Austin Powers.

Saturday

I FB'd Fahamu. We ended up chatting for quite a while.He is BRILLIANT! I am very excited about seeing more of his Art and his productions.

Later in the Afternoon,it finally happened. I got my boo to come over and chill with me. One problem, he wasn't free to come until the evening. He ended up showing up, right in time to pull me away from my BFF's housewarming. Luckily the BFF lives in the same apartment complex!

Between running back and forth to the party to pretend like I was indeed there, I was laying in my bedroom smooching and talking to my new boo. Luckily, the BFF never caught on. He was too wasted.

We ended that night at out local Boy Bar. Drunk and stumbly. I don't remember, how I got home.

Sunday

I got him twice! My boo and I decided to catch a movie. I got the tix online and we met up at the GAYTACULAR Piedmont park. He had been out chilling with friends. It was a nice casual meet up. I could tell they were a little taken aback, by his size. What can I say! I love a Big Ol' teddy bear! I hugged him Hello. Hugged my friends Goodbye. These are the days when I feel the most blessed. I can feel safe to love in my own way in the Sunshine! No need to go darting in dark corners or back alleys. I can love out in the open. To know within my lifetime that this occurred is beautiful. To know it doesn't happen everywhere, and I get to experience it, is very humbling.

We saw Date Night. Starring Tina Fey and Steve Corell, this movie is funny x 10. It was a perfect movie for two SNL fans on their first real date. We ended the night, walking off the Burgers we had for dinner at Atkins Park ( I know perfect name for a Burger joint). I enjoyed a cup of Ben& Jerry's Oatmeal Crunch, while we strolled down North Highland. A strip of Bars and boutiques a little off the main roads. It was a perfect night.

So as you can see, I haven't been blogging this week. That's because the weekend extended to Wednesday! I will give you part deux, manana! LOL!

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Paper Bag

I was staring at the sky looking for a Star
To prey on
Or wish on
Or something like that...

F.Apple



I have indeed dated several other fellows where our relationship barely made it to the light of day. And not for any other reason but shame or fear. The only way I can come to terms with my ability to put up with the claustrophobia is I had accepted a policy of radical acceptance. Radical Acceptance is a phrase I picked up from perusing Buddhist philosophy. I just like the idea that two people can hold on to the core of who they are while building a third person, if you will.

I am not sure if many men understand this concept. Or at least not the ones I attract.

Enter Tyrone

Tyrone, was a second year law student at Howard Law. He swore I was smiling at him in the dark lower level of the landmark Fireplace bar, located on the edge of Dupont Circle. I noticed him staring at me and I had not been stared at in that way before. He had a wild look in his eyes and a New York bravado. He was extremely masculine and approached me aggressively. He smelled of faint musk and wore camouflage, GI Bill law student, just out of the closet DRAG. I was intrigued.

After a short sabbatical in Harlem at my friends apartment. I returned to DC ready for a cold winter. I had been very depressed and not sure of my direction. University of Maryland College Park was the antithesis of the small private New England College I previously attended. I was eager for an adventure. Tyrone and I would go to places I had never dreamed of.


He taught me things about my body. The first time we hooked up at his apartment. I was so nervous. Every touch he landed on me sent me into quivers. He growled and tugged on my clothes. He snarled and smacked my thighs. He appreciated the things on me that I always disliked. My love handles, man boobs, and flat awkward feet. He caressed, massaged, and nibbled every bit. He found a spot on my lower abdomen that sent me into convulsions, of laughter. I was playfully rejecting him, pushing is head away. He pinned me down. looked me dead in the eye. " Laughter is resistance, don't you feel good when you laugh. Relax and laugh."And did I, it was the most innocuous tickling I ever experienced. Thats coming from a former child tickle addict. I would almost pay people when I was a kid to get tickled. I am not ticklish anymore.

Wait I have to back up!

Before Tyrone there was Kindle. This was all around the turn of the millennium. It was the shedding of my need to be pursued and the beginning of my season of love lessons. Kindle was Tyrone's developmental course.

I was a waiter at a conspicuous Dupont Circle restaurant. I was stationed on the sidewalk table section and the late spring winds were picking up. I saw a massive figure moving slowly my way from across the lanes of traffic on the always snarled roundabout. I felt as if I willed him to walk over. Although I was closing the patio, I ran in and begged to take one more table, at the guests request. I have never wanted to feed a man more.

Somehow, I knew I had to ask him out. I put on a bravado, I don't really have to this day. But he was down with getting to know more about me. I went home and called all my friends for a conference. We decided I was ready. I was only 20 but I never got carded. I got a fake ID just in case.

We dated our way around the world; Ethiopian restaurants in the bustling Adams Morgan neighborhood, Brazilian themed lounges in Dupont Circle south, Sexy Uptown Jazz clubs on the Historic U street. We were a handsome pair of chocolate men. We flirted with each other in a simple and boyish manner. Backhanded quick slaps to the torso, accented with a sly grin. The brush of the thigh when rising from the bar, always accompanied by mumbled excuse me. I couldn't wait to go to bed with him.

I never did get him in the bed. One night hanging out in the tony remote neighborhood of Friendship Heights, we were on the side of his car playing brotherly love. I was getting frustrated. I excused my self for the night. Moved in for a hug and he picked me up! While I had those luscious lips in reach, I went in for a peck. I promptly found myself on the ground. ( Stumped ) Me too!

As he pulled off in his family style car, I slowly hung my head and walked away. I waved behind myself as he honked to acknowledge his departure. I felt a sick feeling. Rejection is such a bitch. I was forced to acknowledge that Kindle was simply not into me. It took 2 weeks of phone calls to get him out of my system. We bump into each other every now and again. I swoon every time.

Back To Tyrone



I am in tears. We are standing on the East facing terrace of the National Capital Building. I am filled with a trembling I had not experienced. " I love you" had regressed me to an age before words. I was at once angered and in disbelief, thus producing confusion. I have always liked to be disoriented. The feeling of dizziness comforts me and always has. But this was more. It was too perfect. Cecil Beaton could not have set it better. I was on the set of An American in Paris. He was Gene Kelly and I was whoever she was. I needed an emotion and tears were picture perfect. The mist, the overly productive fountain, the night air, all of this was set into motion just to give me a reason to "ugly" cry.

I'm not sure where my next " I love you" will come from, but the first one was too much. Next time, I would like a faint stench of some sort and the plain setting of a chain restaurant. A laughing " I love you" over Ihop! That's what I want.

I will tell you what became of Tyrone on another post


AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Window Seat

I need for you to want me
I was thinking and discussing my past relationships with my SistaGurl Destine. I am often the one giving her the advice, so I rarely flip the script. Besides the fact she has the attention span of a gnat. But since I rarely enter into courtship, I needed someone to let me vent. She obliged and I had an epiphany,I am terrible at dating!
I thought I was a perfect date. I am full of wit and energy. The conversation will ebb and flow with hints of devilish flirtation. I think of a date with me like having a never-ending supply of your favorite bubbly refreshment. Its after that, its the third and fourth dates where I stumble.

It may be because I am often in very clandestine affairs.
Enter the Nigerian

He is a Napoleon sized charmer with a thick west African accent. He tends to giggle with a sense of aloofness, especially when discussing politics. He is a Republican. This is not going to work. However, on the third date,he says" You are my boyfriend, I don't care what you say!" I thought it was cute. I agreed and we stayed together for nearly a year.
I lived in a rooming house in D.C's Columbia Hgts neighborhood. I had the top floor street facing room. I pretended that it was a Parisian apartment. I hung posters and had tons of junk everywhere. And this is where we had our relationship.
He had children and lived in the suburbs with them. He divorced the mother a year earlier and he had just started to venture into the World of Men. He would always say "I don't see very many happy men that are Gay" I understood what he was saying. He meant he wanted to be happy and felt a great fear that he wouldn't experience the joys that he had with his heterosexual relationships. Milestones like Engagement,Marriage, and children all seemed like purely Male/Female relationship practices. he had not been exposed to HomoMatrimony or SGL Partners as Family heads. I decided I would love him enough to change his mind.
He did real estate work. appraisals and property inspection. We would go on long road trips to rural areas in Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia. We listened to talk radio and country music ( his favorite). The only exception was Robin Thicke's " Lost Without You". Lawst Weeeth-ouT U. He would hold my hand and say in his curt little accent. I loved him.
He was obsessed with getting us a condo in the city. But I refused to give up my neighborhood. He accused me of not trying to compromise. I reminded him we were fine in my little room. I understood he wanted a new level to our relationship. So I focused on his other obsession. My becoming a property investigator. I had just bought a used cargo van from a family friend and started doing courier work. He paid for my gas and helped me a lot. I promised I would eventually take on Properties, but I was just getting used to driving again. I hated IT! But I loved the freedom.
We would check in on the road and see if we were near each other. And one day we were. We had never met for lunch ( We have several times since). I sat in my van waiting for him to arrive. When I saw his Sedan pull in I smiled at him, he nodded coldly at me. I jumped out my vehicle and sauntered over to his. He got out very briskly and walked right past me. When we sat down I asked if he was having a bad day. "No, In fact i am having a very productive day." We ordered our lunches and ate them silently. He whipped out his Gold Am ex and paid the bill. Then shot a look at me. "You could have paid for this if you began doing like I said and added some properties to your daily runs." I smiled and said Thank You, for Lunch.
I began to slowly withdraw from our relationship. One early summer night we sat down for an impromptu dinner on the banks of the C&O Canal. It was a full moon and we were particularly chatty. He asked me what I wanted to do for our anniversary. I said Montreal. He looked at me very sternly and said he wasn't ready for international travel. I didn't consider him having children as a part of this decision. I believed he was more afraid of taking our relationship out of my room. I felt it and I said so. He admitted that beyond having never done such an extravagant thing with any of his past lovers, he thought the idea was silly.He suggested for me to pick a nice hotel and we would just fuck and order room service. I mentioned that was basically what we did already.I called him a week later and broke it off. I could hear his sadness. I could hear him acknowledge his inability to be free. He said he would still buy me that condo, if he found a foreclosure in my neighborhood. I went to Montreal anyways. By Myself.
,AINT THAT THE TRUTH!