This broad here!! Read the following. I LOVE this chick:
"I had been single for 9 years since my last relationship (some cut buddies and losers in between but single nonetheless). And in those nine years, I would say that in the last 5 years, I really thought I KNEW myself and what I wanted and didn't want and needed and so on.
I had met tons of "potentials" but nobody that really hit the mark. It's partially being "ready" and partially "being ready to be single for the rest of your life."
I know it sounds crazy but when [her current dude] and I were EXTRA platonic friend we were talking about love and relationships and he said to me, "you know ... you really aren't ready to be in a relationship until you're ready to be single for the rest of your life."
I thought about it and it made sense. When you're ready to REALLY say "fuck it, I don't care" is when things aren't as desperate. A lot of women don't really believe they are being desperate but there are things that we do that are desperate acts like PAYING FOR SHIT because they don't have it or ACCEPTING SHIT that you KNOW you shouldn't because you are little worried that you're getting old and that there's a chance that you might miss the boat.
You ACT different when you are REALLY ready to be single for your whole entire life. I know I did. At 29 years old, I arrived. Fuck it. Fuck you. I'm not breaking my neck just to say I got a nigga.com.net.edu.org.biz ... you know the rest. I always say that [her dude] attempted to "break up" with me a few weeks after I visited ATL.
I told him that I completely understood (even though I didn't because I never was WITH you so why are you breaking up??) and that I thought he was a great man and that I wished him all the best. He didn't know what to do with himself.
You see, the old me would have tried to help him understand why I thought he was the one for me.
The new me don't really give a fuck.
After I sent him his well wishes he bought a plane ticket the NEXT MORNING to fly out here and confess his undying love for me.
And if it don't work out ... I'm still READY."
And so...if you stay ready...ready to do you, be you, love you...you ain't got to get ready 'cause you're already there.
{and now...I'm so here...which is why you and he, and him, and they and them and whomever need to read this}
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Measuring love...
I saw him last night.
I went to our mutual friend's little game night social gathering for drinks and food and games...it was fun. He had his son and had plans to go to something else (he went to a h.s. production of 'The Wiz') at a theatre that was in my neck of the woods.
After, he called our friend. She'd previously invited him in the same email she'd invited me.
I'd been there for a little while before he got there. I was already tipsy and having fun. There was a man there that I would "have" just on principle 'cause he moved me like that. Woooo. But he's a friend of the hostess and he's doing "something" with another of her friends, even though everyone is single.
So, in he walks. I don't meet his eyes. We're already doing Taboo and well into it. Hostess introduces everyone around and he says "Hey...." I said "Hi." I still don't look up, though he's standing right next to me now.
He's got his son with him, too, so my wee one and his son go off to play in the Hostess' room. They're fine.
I guess he eats and gets some wine and joins us in the fun. So, he does his Taboo turn and is a hit and gives some really funny clues. Really.
And we just coexist in the same room, not relating.
Something happens with the kids, and that's when he comes to me, calls my name (which I didn't realize at first) and says wee one is doing something. I looked up and looked him directly in the eye...for the first time that night. I go...do.
And we all do our thing. So my turn comes up again and The Man is up there with me. I'm touchy feely, Hostess is now taking pictures, so he catches one of us. For one of them, he grabs me and we embrace, she takes a pic. He's about 6 feet even, maybe 6'1". I was barefoot, as we all were. He's thick, but in no way fat. Like a dude who used to work out a lot, but has gained a little weight. It felt good underhand.
So we're up there and I'm just vibing off the energy...needed a bit of testosterone in my atmosphere. This was safe because, though I have to admit I wanted 'some' (of him specifically: gat damn), he's off limits. At least...yeah, off limits.
So, we play a little more and eventually the fellas win at Taboo. Xlove's kid gets a bit sleepy, so he starts getting him ready to go.
But he sits down in a chair for a few. I took him aside, in the Hostess' bedroom.
I say to him something like (I was drunk, can't remember exactly) like ...I can't remember, but my point was that he'd cut me off, figuratively speaking and won't talk to me, but we can show that we can be in the same room together. He says, "I don't hate you." So I say, "Then what is it?"
He said he's been in a funk the last weeks and just needs to sort some things out. He said this hasn't been easy for him. I asked how so, it appears that way (that it's easy)... He says he just needs some time.
It's funny, he's visibly uncomfortable. I was leaning back against a wall, just looking up at him. I wanted to embrace him, to kiss him. Again...I was drunk. I saw him look at me and his eyes watered a bit (he wasn't drunk) and he looked away, at the TV, blinking. I have to admit that delighted me a bit.
I'm still in his heart.
It made me feel good that I'm not hurt by myself. Although...the pain is much less.
I was so horny though.
So, later, I sent him a text that I wanted him. BADLY. Gawd, I was so horny. I had help in remaining chaste though. #1, I was so drunk that I couldn't drive to go any.where. (Dammit) The former who has a crush on me again...he was out of the area, bowling. The last ex/booty call was in San Diego. He's eager though...so I'm SO GLAD that he wasn't around. And, of course, Xlove didn't answer me.
I just wanted his arms.
So, I wound up sticking around, 'cause I was DRUNK!! and couldn't even get clear enough to drive home. Woooooo.
We (another friend who came with a dude she's seeing who's friends with Hostess), that other dude, The Man, Hostess' friend who's "something"-ing with The Man, Hostess and Host Hubby sat around listening to music, drinking tea and playing Uno. Hostess' friend had to lay it down, so that left the rest of us playing...the Hostess and our friend went to lay down, too. So now I'm at a table with Host Hubby, The Man and other dude.
It's all cool and groovy and my fade gradually fades...but I'm still flirting with The Man. He lives in my city, too.
Another circumstance...he would get it. And like Meshell said, "Mad sex and when we're through, I really have no problem actin' like I don't know you..."
I fall into the house closing in on 5 a.m. this morning. Happy, having had fun, having let out the leash a little further.
Hostess gave me a book, "The Language of Letting Go."
mkay. This night helped, too.
I went to our mutual friend's little game night social gathering for drinks and food and games...it was fun. He had his son and had plans to go to something else (he went to a h.s. production of 'The Wiz') at a theatre that was in my neck of the woods.
After, he called our friend. She'd previously invited him in the same email she'd invited me.
I'd been there for a little while before he got there. I was already tipsy and having fun. There was a man there that I would "have" just on principle 'cause he moved me like that. Woooo. But he's a friend of the hostess and he's doing "something" with another of her friends, even though everyone is single.
So, in he walks. I don't meet his eyes. We're already doing Taboo and well into it. Hostess introduces everyone around and he says "Hey...." I said "Hi." I still don't look up, though he's standing right next to me now.
He's got his son with him, too, so my wee one and his son go off to play in the Hostess' room. They're fine.
I guess he eats and gets some wine and joins us in the fun. So, he does his Taboo turn and is a hit and gives some really funny clues. Really.
And we just coexist in the same room, not relating.
Something happens with the kids, and that's when he comes to me, calls my name (which I didn't realize at first) and says wee one is doing something. I looked up and looked him directly in the eye...for the first time that night. I go...do.
And we all do our thing. So my turn comes up again and The Man is up there with me. I'm touchy feely, Hostess is now taking pictures, so he catches one of us. For one of them, he grabs me and we embrace, she takes a pic. He's about 6 feet even, maybe 6'1". I was barefoot, as we all were. He's thick, but in no way fat. Like a dude who used to work out a lot, but has gained a little weight. It felt good underhand.
So we're up there and I'm just vibing off the energy...needed a bit of testosterone in my atmosphere. This was safe because, though I have to admit I wanted 'some' (of him specifically: gat damn), he's off limits. At least...yeah, off limits.
So, we play a little more and eventually the fellas win at Taboo. Xlove's kid gets a bit sleepy, so he starts getting him ready to go.
But he sits down in a chair for a few. I took him aside, in the Hostess' bedroom.
I say to him something like (I was drunk, can't remember exactly) like ...I can't remember, but my point was that he'd cut me off, figuratively speaking and won't talk to me, but we can show that we can be in the same room together. He says, "I don't hate you." So I say, "Then what is it?"
He said he's been in a funk the last weeks and just needs to sort some things out. He said this hasn't been easy for him. I asked how so, it appears that way (that it's easy)... He says he just needs some time.
It's funny, he's visibly uncomfortable. I was leaning back against a wall, just looking up at him. I wanted to embrace him, to kiss him. Again...I was drunk. I saw him look at me and his eyes watered a bit (he wasn't drunk) and he looked away, at the TV, blinking. I have to admit that delighted me a bit.
I'm still in his heart.
It made me feel good that I'm not hurt by myself. Although...the pain is much less.
I was so horny though.
So, later, I sent him a text that I wanted him. BADLY. Gawd, I was so horny. I had help in remaining chaste though. #1, I was so drunk that I couldn't drive to go any.where. (Dammit) The former who has a crush on me again...he was out of the area, bowling. The last ex/booty call was in San Diego. He's eager though...so I'm SO GLAD that he wasn't around. And, of course, Xlove didn't answer me.
I just wanted his arms.
So, I wound up sticking around, 'cause I was DRUNK!! and couldn't even get clear enough to drive home. Woooooo.
We (another friend who came with a dude she's seeing who's friends with Hostess), that other dude, The Man, Hostess' friend who's "something"-ing with The Man, Hostess and Host Hubby sat around listening to music, drinking tea and playing Uno. Hostess' friend had to lay it down, so that left the rest of us playing...the Hostess and our friend went to lay down, too. So now I'm at a table with Host Hubby, The Man and other dude.
It's all cool and groovy and my fade gradually fades...but I'm still flirting with The Man. He lives in my city, too.
Another circumstance...he would get it. And like Meshell said, "Mad sex and when we're through, I really have no problem actin' like I don't know you..."
I fall into the house closing in on 5 a.m. this morning. Happy, having had fun, having let out the leash a little further.
Hostess gave me a book, "The Language of Letting Go."
mkay. This night helped, too.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Over it
Okay, so this is a big ass relationship blog? No. But that's what I've felt like writing about.
So, yesterday's done, and I think I'm over it. I sat and blubbered and snotted and cried until I had a headache. I heaved and became hoarse from crying. My eyes were irritatted and my nose stuffy from accumulation of mucus.
There is something to be said for release.
*wooooooo saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh* never felt so good.
I am so much lighter and feeling of "me" that, were it not for the thoughts that drift to him, I'd be completely "better".
Over it doesn't mean I don't think of him, want to check on him, still love him. Over it means the acute bleeding has stopped and thrombin has begin to seal off the blood flow. Soon a scab will form. Really hope, if he decides to make contact, that he doesn't do it in that time: I know how I am and that won't be a good look for him.
Afterward, the scab falls off and there is new skin. I don't want my skin thick, just new again.
So, yesterday's done, and I think I'm over it. I sat and blubbered and snotted and cried until I had a headache. I heaved and became hoarse from crying. My eyes were irritatted and my nose stuffy from accumulation of mucus.
There is something to be said for release.
*wooooooo saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh* never felt so good.
I am so much lighter and feeling of "me" that, were it not for the thoughts that drift to him, I'd be completely "better".
Over it doesn't mean I don't think of him, want to check on him, still love him. Over it means the acute bleeding has stopped and thrombin has begin to seal off the blood flow. Soon a scab will form. Really hope, if he decides to make contact, that he doesn't do it in that time: I know how I am and that won't be a good look for him.
Afterward, the scab falls off and there is new skin. I don't want my skin thick, just new again.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Heart Burn
This hurts so bad.
How do people do this over and over and over.
Maybe I've never actually been here before.
It doesn't feel like I have.
I can't remember this pain before X.
I remember sadness, dejection.
I remember lonliness.
Never this.
now
I remember love
I don't remember this grief
I don't remember not feeling happiness thinking of him
I don't remember not wanting to hate
I don't remember not wanting his arms
I don't remember bone-quaking
teeth-chattering crying, sobbing
I don't remember this pain
I don't remember having my sex
masturbation
becoming an emotional minefield
I don't remember
I don't remember my heart before
I don't remember thinking
without him
I don't remember loving anyone else
I don't remember love
before I saw his words
I don't remember before I saw his face
I don't remember love before that first embrace
I don't remember home without him in it
I don't remember how I feel
I don't remember how to do
I don't remember not thinking
feeling of him
I
I remember the scent,
him alone, us together
I remember his face
smiling, frowning, twisted with expression
I remember his eyes
he loved me with them
I remember his hands
I held them, he supported me with them
I remember his lips
his voice as it passed through them
I remember his feet
on my side
I remember not wanting to reach
but I reached
I remember not having time
but I gave it
willingly
I remember not wanting to hear
but I listened
I remember wanting to listen
but he wouldn't talk
I remember not wanting to touch
and he held me
I remember open
and glad and honest
I remember happy
the heat of my skin
when he touched me, when he was near
when he loved me
when I heard him
I remember when he told me
not the same words
that I'd used
I remember he explained his depth
I remember my heart exploded
at his in-loveness
I remember me in love
with him.
(c) 2009 JRC
"Fool of Me" - Meshell Ndegeocello
How do people do this over and over and over.
Maybe I've never actually been here before.
It doesn't feel like I have.
I can't remember this pain before X.
I remember sadness, dejection.
I remember lonliness.
Never this.
now
I remember love
I don't remember this grief
I don't remember not feeling happiness thinking of him
I don't remember not wanting to hate
I don't remember not wanting his arms
I don't remember bone-quaking
teeth-chattering crying, sobbing
I don't remember this pain
I don't remember having my sex
masturbation
becoming an emotional minefield
I don't remember
I don't remember my heart before
I don't remember thinking
without him
I don't remember loving anyone else
I don't remember love
before I saw his words
I don't remember before I saw his face
I don't remember love before that first embrace
I don't remember home without him in it
I don't remember how I feel
I don't remember how to do
I don't remember not thinking
feeling of him
I
I remember the scent,
him alone, us together
I remember his face
smiling, frowning, twisted with expression
I remember his eyes
he loved me with them
I remember his hands
I held them, he supported me with them
I remember his lips
his voice as it passed through them
I remember his feet
on my side
I remember not wanting to reach
but I reached
I remember not having time
but I gave it
willingly
I remember not wanting to hear
but I listened
I remember wanting to listen
but he wouldn't talk
I remember not wanting to touch
and he held me
I remember open
and glad and honest
I remember happy
the heat of my skin
when he touched me, when he was near
when he loved me
when I heard him
I remember when he told me
not the same words
that I'd used
I remember he explained his depth
I remember my heart exploded
at his in-loveness
I remember me in love
with him.
(c) 2009 JRC
"Fool of Me" - Meshell Ndegeocello
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Sunday, November 08, 2009
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Been so long
since I've written. I've written in other places...then stopped that too.
Do I only blog when I'm having issues with the fellas in my life? Do I only blog to release from that shit? Maybe.
I'm in love right now...and it's causing me emotional and physical pain right now. I need to exercise this. NEED to.
I will be attempting to not contact him...until. When that "until" is, I don't know. He's on some "power trip" about the party who cares the least wins. If that's the game he's playing, then it's clear that it IS a game and I want no parts of it. I just need to let this feeling, this tie, this thing dissipate and move on.
I still have some of his stuff here. It's actually a good amount of stuff. He doesn't have a lot in the way of clothing, so a pair of jeans, a couple of work shirts, some undies and undershirts (I bought a few of those undershirts *sigh*) and socks (he has the ones I bought...and the mofo never even said thank you!) is a lot...
Wait. That helped. Yes, I bought them and put them in the drawer like nothing...but you know damn well what you brought here from your house and you know what you had. And those extra things...nope, you didn't have those. You never even intimated, subtly acknowledged them...just took it for granted.
back on track...I have some things at his place, a robe, travel kit toothbrush, phone charger, Carmex (a must no matter where I lay my head). It's nothing too major though my phone charger is a PITA to acquire again and my robe in my good, cold weather and travel robe (it has a hood).
This 'break-up' was honestly brewing and would have come anyway. I'd changed since he'd had a temper tantrum a few weeks ago. And every.week.it.was.something. That was old.
The problem is...the problem is with him. That is to say, one doesn't know there's a problem until suddenly he's exploding about some minor shit. THEN...he pulls out and enumerates about a buncha shit that either has nothing to do with you or was inconsequential at the time so he decided to save it up and make it something.
Oh...and is it my baggage that you equate chivalry/politeness with blows against your purported manhood? Is it my baggage that you feel some kind of way about opening a door for me because then, according to your experience, if you open/hold the door, you think that'll mean I expect you to pay my bills? WTF? That's called damage, man. Damage.
Shit, for me, that makes me feel like, "What the hell do I need you for?" I want to feel protected and feminine. And yes, wrong or right as it may be, my femininity is tied up in some of society's ancient mores of superficial social roles for men and women. If I'm carrying three bags and your hands are empty, it's not chauvanistic to think, expect, that you should help...hell, just offer. If I decline, then oh well. But it's the thought that goes forever, if you're not even asking? Nah. Hell, I'll get my carpentry, plumbing, electrician or auto mechanic skills on if I wanna, but then, I'd still like you to open my car or building door, hold out my chair and see me seated first.
Thank you for rubbing my feet though (even though your class counselor had to tell you to do it and it's a good thing!).
But then...I also have my need to "take care of"...it's a fuckin' weakness that can be my undoing...if I were to let it.
He had a procedure today. I was supposed to be with him for it and helping him after. We broke up on Sunday...or rather, I was un-girlfriended (via facebook, no less). I still would have taken him and seen him through it. Hell, maturity is...some things are beyond your personal shit.
Hell, I saw Robert through his knee surgery thing in '06, and at the time we weren't really together.
(continued...)
Do I only blog when I'm having issues with the fellas in my life? Do I only blog to release from that shit? Maybe.
I'm in love right now...and it's causing me emotional and physical pain right now. I need to exercise this. NEED to.
I will be attempting to not contact him...until. When that "until" is, I don't know. He's on some "power trip" about the party who cares the least wins. If that's the game he's playing, then it's clear that it IS a game and I want no parts of it. I just need to let this feeling, this tie, this thing dissipate and move on.
I still have some of his stuff here. It's actually a good amount of stuff. He doesn't have a lot in the way of clothing, so a pair of jeans, a couple of work shirts, some undies and undershirts (I bought a few of those undershirts *sigh*) and socks (he has the ones I bought...and the mofo never even said thank you!) is a lot...
Wait. That helped. Yes, I bought them and put them in the drawer like nothing...but you know damn well what you brought here from your house and you know what you had. And those extra things...nope, you didn't have those. You never even intimated, subtly acknowledged them...just took it for granted.
back on track...I have some things at his place, a robe, travel kit toothbrush, phone charger, Carmex (a must no matter where I lay my head). It's nothing too major though my phone charger is a PITA to acquire again and my robe in my good, cold weather and travel robe (it has a hood).
This 'break-up' was honestly brewing and would have come anyway. I'd changed since he'd had a temper tantrum a few weeks ago. And every.week.it.was.something. That was old.
The problem is...the problem is with him. That is to say, one doesn't know there's a problem until suddenly he's exploding about some minor shit. THEN...he pulls out and enumerates about a buncha shit that either has nothing to do with you or was inconsequential at the time so he decided to save it up and make it something.
Oh...and is it my baggage that you equate chivalry/politeness with blows against your purported manhood? Is it my baggage that you feel some kind of way about opening a door for me because then, according to your experience, if you open/hold the door, you think that'll mean I expect you to pay my bills? WTF? That's called damage, man. Damage.
Shit, for me, that makes me feel like, "What the hell do I need you for?" I want to feel protected and feminine. And yes, wrong or right as it may be, my femininity is tied up in some of society's ancient mores of superficial social roles for men and women. If I'm carrying three bags and your hands are empty, it's not chauvanistic to think, expect, that you should help...hell, just offer. If I decline, then oh well. But it's the thought that goes forever, if you're not even asking? Nah. Hell, I'll get my carpentry, plumbing, electrician or auto mechanic skills on if I wanna, but then, I'd still like you to open my car or building door, hold out my chair and see me seated first.
Thank you for rubbing my feet though (even though your class counselor had to tell you to do it and it's a good thing!).
But then...I also have my need to "take care of"...it's a fuckin' weakness that can be my undoing...if I were to let it.
He had a procedure today. I was supposed to be with him for it and helping him after. We broke up on Sunday...or rather, I was un-girlfriended (via facebook, no less). I still would have taken him and seen him through it. Hell, maturity is...some things are beyond your personal shit.
Hell, I saw Robert through his knee surgery thing in '06, and at the time we weren't really together.
(continued...)
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