Clairvoyance

What the fuck have I been doing for the past four years?

After many internal conversations, much agonizing, countless tears and circling conversations, I have reached a timeless conclusion – one I end at repeatedly – I’m over it. I’m not necessarily “over it” in the sense that I’m over The Boy… because, though I should be, I’m not quite there. And not “over” all relationships… because I feel as though I’m actually pretty close to being ready for a real one. I’m over the grown-up childishness of having a “boo,” or “talking” to someone, or endless “dating” with no real future. I’m over laughing at derogatory jokes about women. I’m over misogynistic hip-hop lyrics. I’m over our over-sexed society. I’m over black men who cannot commit. I’m over black men who CAN commit, and only refuse to do so with “the boo”. I’m over jump-offs. I’m over casual sex (for the most part). I’m over “playing it cool” to score points with someone who probably doesn’t deserve the 15 minutes of time I’m willing to spend.

I’m over late night conversations that won't ever see the dawn of a new day. I’m over cutesy text messages with no real purpose. I’m over men who say one thing and mean another. It’s all so silly. I’m over sucking it up for the sake of “what if” and “maybe later”. I’m over sacrificing my wants and needs for those of others. I’m over the game.

The pain I have endured over the past three months (disproportionately as a result of my dealings with this whore-boy) has taught me so, so much. Not only do I realize what I can put up with versus what I will put up with, but I appreciate that I don’t HAVE to put up with shit. I can do bad all by myself. I can date outside of my race. I can achieve happiness being alone. Purely physical relationships tend to get me in trouble anyway. And for what? What is fulfilling about a casual encounter? Where is the love in any of that? When is the last time I WAS in love? When will I find it again?

Granted, I’m being built into a better me. God is really working some magic this summer. And, while it hurts like hell, I KNOW it is for the best. I do not doubt it for one second. But, I’ve been chastising myself for my “number”. Not in a holier-than-thou religious sense, but in a perfectionist you-know-you-know-better sense. Why did add those worthless “notches”? Who even CARES about some of these dudes?! I get so angry.

I’m not bitter. I’m refreshed, actually.

Clairvoyant.

High.

How sweet is the realization that substantive relationships are attainable, and real, and well-deserved? Hell no, I don’t have to settle for a non-committal sociopath. I could actually meet someone amazing! Someone older. Someone mature. Someone grounded. I could test these fragile and somewhat hardened wings again… soaring over the disgust and contempt I once felt for he who shall forever remain nameless. I will rise above it. There is someone out there with whom I’m more compatible and more equally yoked. Maybe he’s sitting at a corner Starbucks reading today’s Post. Maybe he’s buying a new mixtape at Moods Records in L5P. Maybe he’s working late nights, grinding, just like me. Maybe…

I know it’s not time for me to meet him yet – because, like I said, I’m not there yet. My head is still jumbled with fleeting thoughts of The Boy. My heart is still reeling from the petty, but hurtful email war with the GF. She made me feel small. She chastised me for mistakes I know I should have never made. She gutted me. Yanked me by my roots and tossed me aside. And, though their foundation is unsteady – built upon lies, and backstabbing, and false realities – it doesn’t involve me. Though I cringe as I reflect upon her words, and secretly continue to plot against her… their present does not involve me. I don’t even care about the two of them together. I care that I was and continue to be affected by her sharp and pervasive WORDS. Sticks and stones… I know… but still.

I still have a few more things to learn. I still have a few more miles to go. I still have some rebuilding to do. My mom has some more wisdom to share. My heart has some mending to bear. I have a few more tears, I think. A few more prayers… Some kinks to iron out. I’ll get there. I’m not too worried about it… I’m just disappointed about those four frivolous years: dealing with him, rebounding from him, forgetting about him, remembering him, spiting him, reconnecting with him, believing him, ignoring him, trusting him, and burying him... for good. I used men as tools during the rebound years to make myself feel better. Or, to make him feel worse… To numb college heartache... To satisfy drunken curiosity... None of it seems to have meant anything now. None of it seems relevant. None of it seems useful. So, why’d I do it?! And, why did I let it go this far?

What the fuck have I been doing for the past four years?

A Sad New Sorority

Last night, I talked with friends from college that I rarely speak with. Of course, the nature of the conversation centered around the boy. As I shared "my side" of the story, I was met with comments ranging from "girl, let me tell you what happened to me!" and "girl, I can completely relate!" And, while a huge chunk of me is appreciative that I'm not the only person who has to endure utter and complete mess on occasion, it saddens me to know that everyone else is dealing with the same trifling-ass n!ggas too.

Why?

What is it about our alma mater, our community, and our society that allows men to trample all over us? Does it begin when we settle for less? When we settle for a non-title when we know we deserve one? When we turn a blind eye to his flirting because we're "just friends" and he's not really hurting anyone? How about when we let a handful of lies slide because we ultimately know what the truth is and "it's not really that big of a deal". We let these problems escalate. I know I did at least. And what about those instances when we ignore our gut? A woman's intuition is a powerful thing. I need to learn to let mine guide me and stop second-guessing every thing she brings to light.

Why, when one of our girls is sad, do we try to top each other with painful stories of how we've been done wrong? Yes, it's funny to us, and it brightens our mood, because the stories are so incredibly ridiculous! He has a child that you didn't know about? He has impregnated his baby mama AGAIN? He got a girlfriend WHILE y'all were talking? (Hand raised - me too!) He tried to talk to you knowing he was in a relationship? He let you go tit-for-tat with his girl and stood on the sidelines blameless? He's MARRIED?! What the ham sandwich is going on in the world? These things are not okay! It's not okay. And, I would say "women, we have to do better" but a lot of my girls who experience these things are innocent in the situation. They were led to believe in a false reality. They were sold dreams... and devastated to wake up from them.

I will admit, I fell asleep smiling last night. I learned some new facts about the GF that gave me brand new perspective. Ol' girl had just gotten out of a relationship when she and The Boy started one. Rebounding asses. They deserve each other. She has also been described (objectively) as immature, boy-crazy, a girly-girl, thirsty for attention but otherwise "cool". "She seems cool," is what I keep hearing. Okay.

Whatever. I'm not mad at her. Though her nasty emails are what warranted this investigation, I'm luckily too swamped with work to continue to worry about her. But HIM. SMH. I can only imagine what is in store for him. It's not my battle. I know. He's in my past. I don't need to worry about him. I need to let him go... don't lecture me, I know these things.

I'm just saying. Membership in the "He Did Me Wrong" Sorority is too costly. Who wants to join such a sad little organization anyway? Problem is, once you express interest in a deadbeat man (knowingly or unknowingly), you have no way to predict your dues. It could cost you a year of your life... maybe four... maybe more. Praise God for the day when you can call the situation a "lesson learned" and begin to move on with your life.... offering sound words of advice to the neophytes as they join. I'll thank God that my haze is over. I'm still reeling from Hell Night, but who in their sound mind would ever go back and RE-DO Hell Night? I think not.

I'm a member! Woo-hoo. Paid in full. What is the next step? Hm? Let me find some Sorority elders and ask them. There's no use in joining anything if you can't network and learn from others... so "helloooooooo... what's next?" Sisterly relations? Regionals? National Conference?

I guess Sisterly Relations would be the "I-Can-Top-That" stories shared over late night phone calls saturated with wine. Regionals are the weekend vacays where you and your girls share updates. Nationals, in my case, equals Homecoming, where we're confronted with many of the men who DID us wrong, and we're forced to look, feel and be FLYER THAN EVER so that those same raggedy-ass dudes can cry themselves to sleep at night when they reflect upon their dumbass decisions that caused us to end all ties. For them, I imagine it feels like when a recovering alcoholic is confronted with a Vodka Tonic after however many months of sobriety. Kill yourself.

I'm not proud to be a member, but I'm glad to have such great sisters. Warm. Understanding. Non-judgemental. Funny. Sensitive. Real.

::sighs:: I'll ask again - what's next?

A Hug for Myself

Well. I decided to let it go. The saga that I started by sending an anonymous email has finally ended by my letting the GF have the last word. She was infuriating in her first email to me, and after I responded, her follow-up was condescending and downright rude. But you know what, had someone come at me that way, I'm not sure I would have reacted differently. What's trifling is that he let her do it. He provided ammunition and obscured me to be the villain; the psychotic ex; the groupie; the jump off; the silly girl who couldn't let it go.

My friends have been comforting to me - each in their own way. But, no one has been in my shoes, or felt what I'm feeling. I cannot honestly expect to get a sound word out of advice from any of them. People cannot give what they don't have.

So, if I were my friend, this is what I would say to myself:

[HUGE BEAR HUG] "Girl. I know. I know... let it out. You never thought it would come to this, right? I know. It's okay. Let it out.

You deserve so much better. And I'm not saying that to be cliche or because you're my girl. I'm saying it because it's true. Look at him. Really, see him for who he is. He has never made an effort to put a title on your relationship. He has never defended you or stood up for you in this situation or any other. In college, when girls were staring at you crazy, he LET that happen. Now, he has forwarded all of your email addresses to his new girlfriend. He is not standing up for you. He is lying about you, dragging your name through the mud, and ruining your reputation. I know it's difficult to let it go. I know it is. But you can't continue to feed the beast. It will only escalate. You have to be the one to put an end to it - even if it's a passive end.

Do you see the way he looks at her? The way he introduces her? The way he references her? He never did that for you. Ever. And you deserve that from someone. You do. Someone who DOES have a job. Someone who DOES have a career path. Someone with money in the bank. Someone who is honest. Someone with goals. The man you deserve respects women. He doesn't indulge in drama. He doesn't treat people like "things". He respects feelings. His word is his bond. He listens. He cares. He's selfless. He's mature. He's handsome. He's humble. He's thoughtful. He's well traveled. He's well read. He's gentle. He will compliment you perfectly.

He won't lie about who you are, how he feels about you, how he felt about you, or the status of your relationship. He won't deny your past because it's convenient for his present. He won't drop you for something shiny and new. He won't remain silent as others attack you. He won't put you in emotionally draining situations.

He will admire you. He will build you up. He will catch you when you fall. He will honor you. He will trust you. He will earn your trust. He will respect you. He will love you. He will LOVE you.

[Rubbing back] You will get through this. I know it's hard. I know you're disappointed, and frustrated, and confused. I know you're hurt. I KNOW you're hurt. And I know it feels like God is looking over you... passing you by. But He is not. Maybe THIS is what it would take for you to finally cut that negative man out of your life. Maybe the 2nd, 5th, 9th and 15th times were not enough. But the great thing about God is that He is patient and understanding. Before you even met that boy, God knew what the outcome would be - and He knew how long it would take for you to learn your lesson. So praise God that the time has finally come. Move forward. Clear you heart of all anguish and pain. Clear you heart of all turmoil. Pray for forgiveness of self. Forgive the very one who has caused you this pain. Move forward. You will need a clean heart and a renewed spirit for the Love that God has in store for you. You will need energy, and humility and room for Love. If you remain bitter and heartbroken, there will be no room for the joys that your future love has to offer.

Make peace with this. Take your time... but know that as soon as this chapter is over, you can begin the next one. It is up to you how long that will take. He treated you badly, and that was wrong. But YOU cannot fix his heart. YOU cannot win this war. Sending emails and trying to explain the situation to her are futile efforts. Being catty and snide in response to her is childish. He has already won her trust. And she is clearly blinded by, eh, whatever it is they have for each other. You cannot direct this show. You cannot control the next moves. Know this though - he will pay for what he has done. Your email war with this girl, and heart wrenching sadness, and sleepless nights, and daily agonizing, and persistent headaches, and loss of appetite, and endless soul searching are your penance. You have surely gained what you needed from this situation and God knows how sorry you are. You made decisions - some good, some bad - and have paid the price for them. Move forward. Leave him behind. Grow. Open you heart for what God has in store.

I love you. And there's nothing you can do to ever make me stop loving you. You are a beautiful person, and it pains me to see you go through this. I'm so sorry that there's nothing more that I can do. But you are a strong person. You are resilient. You deserve more. And, more is on the way. Leave him behind. Love yourself enough to leave him behind. Love yourself enough to ignore her rude comments. Love yourself enough to leave both of them in their places - in your rearview mirror. Move forward."

::sighs:: Deep breaths. He told her I was a jump off. He has implied that I mean/meant nothing to him. I know what I did was fucked up, and I apologize for that. I sincerely do. I don't feel the need to say that directly to either of them - but I will send that sentiment into the universe. I am remorseful. I have learned not to let my emotions get the best of me. I have also learned not to let a man have the best of me - particularly when he is a slimy, manipulative, self-serving, lying-ass, backstabbing, insecure, immature, ego-maniacal pig.

That felt nice.

[Bear hug for myself]

God makes all things new and I will follow Him FORWARD.

My Work E-Mail?

So. Awhile ago I did something silly. I'll admit it was slightly psychotic, but whatever. Sometimes people will push you places. I sent the new GF an email detailing all of the ups and downs of my "relationship" with the boy. The only catch - I sent it from a fake e-mail address. Fun, right? Nice and dramatic.

Time passed, he withdrew his business from my company. He and I exchanged choice words via email, gchat, what have you. I was making progress in my life, learning to live without him, juggling the multiple work stresses and stresses from back at home... I was doing okay.

In a conversation with Dionne the other day, however, she revealed that he had been treating her "weird" in the past months. She didn't know about the email, but once I explained the situation to her, she said things began to make sense. No wonder he had been rude and stand-offish with her in social settings. He thought SHE was the one who sent the cold and somewhat out-of-line email. ::sighs::

Out of loyalty to her, I broke my two-month silence with the boy, notifying him that it was I who sent the email. He needed to keep Dionne out of it. Well, that was a terrible move. Within hours, I received an email from his GF - sent directly to my two google accounts and my work email. MY WORK EMAIL.

Let me tell you something. It doesn't matter what kind of personal drama anyone is EVER going through. You DO NOT play on people's work email. You DO. NOT. PLAY. on people's work email. Ever. No excuse. I was heated. Livid, really. Trembling to the point that I could not think straight.

Now, I guess this is what I get for playing around on email to start off with, but to be perfectly honest, my intentions weren't 100% malicious. I was angry to start off with, but I really felt like she should know what she was getting into. I guess she'll have to learn the hard way. No longer my problem. I can't say I haven't been plotting against her since yesterday though. Trying to figure out the right way to clear my name and erase all of the terrible lies that boy has been tellin her. But why do I even care? He's moving to New York to be with her, and based on her email to all THREE of my accounts, they're "incredibly happy" together. Well isn't that beautiful.

I'm going to try not to dwell on it. I really am. But I know how I get and it will take a minute to get this out of my system. The audacity of BOTH of them. He is a ridiculous person and it's a blessing that he has been removed from my life. She CLEARLY does not see the whole picture, otherwise she wouldn't be so desperate to paint their love story for me. I'm no longer sad about him or pining to have him back in my life. I secretly hope he gets hit by a bus in Harlem, or mugged in broad daylight. Is that bad?

Who cares.

My mom is hilarious. I'm so glad we're getting to the point where I can tell her *practically* anything. I told her tidbits about my current drama - enough to get her perspective without totally outing myself - and she agreed with me. She took my side. So I started telling her more stuff, the stuff I had done wrong, and she said to me "sometimes people just have to get cursed out." Now, my mother does not curse whatsoever. So to hear that comment from her made me laugh out loud. She said "sometimes people just push you to the point that you have to do that. If you can't talk to them in your language, you have to talk to them in theirs." It was nice to hear her say that. To me, it reaffirmed that I had been handling this okay. I couldn't escape blame for what I did, and I'll own up to that. But the fact that this boy has been lying to the GF about me, and she's buying every word is slowly driving me crazy.

It goes back to the control issue, I guess. Clearly I don't have any in this predicament. It's bittersweet to have to "let it go" especially when I have so much else I want/need to say to both of them. It just means the final episode of this soap opera will be epic. Knock down, drag out. Monumental. It's not to say that I thrive off of drama because I typically avoid it at all costs. But, man. He is taking it there, and I'm tired of being trampled by his foolishness. Deep breaths.

What goes around comes around.

Clutch Players

"When someone shows you who they are, believe them."
~Maya Angelou

I will say this. My friends, for all of their weaknesses, and even in light of recent events... they come through in the clutch. They're there when it matters. They pick me up when I fall. And, even when I haven't fallen... and just feel deeply disappointed in someone, or something for that matter... they stay down for the cause. Whatever I need. They are there. I'm so, so blessed.

I wish I could say the same for the boy. It's officially over. No more back and forth. No more obsessive blogging. No more denial. No more wishing, dwelling, pleading, or crying. I'm done. And you know, it's not even as emotional of a departure as it could be. I've been through this before. I'm still alive. I have the capacity to keep going, and I will. He's just not that into me. He met someone, and wants to explore what it's about. While his initial statement on Thursday was not as forthcoming as it should have been, it was an attempt (albeit halfhearted and pathetic) at honesty. It took a phone call with Dionne to get the true story. It took a follow up call with the boy to hear him say it himself. He's a tricky little man. He didn't volunteer any information. But, I knew the right questions to ask, and got the information I needed from him. I'm not as mad at him as I am at the situation. The words were hard to hear. But, I'm glad they were said.

He's selfish. Plain and simple. He wanted to reap the benefits of our "thing" and pursue other possibilities at the same time. He thought his "quick chat" on Thursday was the out that he needed, telling himself "at least I was honest with her," when in reality, it was just the tip of the iceberg. He didn't mention that she had been to his hometown in recent weeks to see him. He didn't mention that she lived in New York. He didn't mention he'd be seeing her in DC that weekend. And, when we spoke yesterday, he had NO intentions of telling me how serious their courting actually was. Nope. He was going to keep me in the dark. Until when? ::sighs::

Fool me twice, shame on me.

I'm keeping it together, though. I'm upset, don't get me wrong, but I'm not devastated. I'm not irate. I'm just really, really disappointed. I know this is for the best. I know that I can do better. I know that I WILL do better. I deserve it. I really do. I just wish it hadn't come to this so soon... you know? I was enjoying it. But, it is when we are most uncomfortable that we achieve the most growth. And, boy, this young man is teaching me life lessons and growing me up SO fast. It's hard staying strong. It's hard staying mature. I'd really like to find his social security number and ufck up his credit. I'd like to throw something. I'd like to punch somebody in the face.

In lieu of those fancy ideas, I'm just going to sit here at my work computer, pretending to plow through this ever-mounting pile of work on my desk... and smile. I'll smile, and be polite to others in the hall, and laugh loudly at cubeside jokes, and gchat with my clutch friends, and update my status frequently to show that I'm cool. The constant updates might be a little OD, but it's okay. I deserve at least one recuperation day.

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

This is just a bump in the road. I've asked God for "signs I can see" so that I'm clear I'm moving in the right direction. (Sometimes, when I just ask God for "a sign" I manage to overlook it). And, ta-da! God comes through in the clutch too! During drinks last night with Anisa, a guy friend of mine walked in (randomly) and we caught up, which was great. Exchanged numbers and everything. He will surely be a fun friend for the summer. This morning, while driving to work, another guy friend sent me a text to say he saw me driving and just wanted to say "hi". We're going to see Bilal this Saturday in concert, so his text was timely and definitely lifted my spirits. Finally, I reached back out to Lewis (remember dude who lives in NY?) and he'll be visiting me in the weeks to come. :-)

I'm smiling. I'm moving forward. And, I will be okay.







And speaking of the clutch... Go Boston.

Loyalty. Maturity.

I try really hard. Too hard, sometimes. I think.

My weekend was really peaceful, which was great. I did what I said I'd do (for the most part) and separated myself from my best friends. Friday night I went out with a new group of friends, and partied hard. After confiding in one of my platonic male friends about "peaks and valleys" in my life at the moment, he took it upon himself to buy liquor and open his apartment for a pre-game all in my honor. "That's what friends do," he said. Aw.

Saturday was jam-packed. Sorority meeting at 10. Take Ruby to the art museum at 12. Have her back to her mom by 3. Nap until 6. Babysit until 11. Finish gifts for my newest neo for the rest of the night!

Sunday was amazing. Great weather. Great friends. I woke up and went to church, had brunch with a group of Teach for America friends at West Egg, and killed time until a 4:00 movie with yet ANOTHER platonic male friend. Afterwards he treated me to ice cream, and we headed back to his place to watch the playoffs. Melanie stopped by and, of course, spent the entire evening yammering about needing a new job... but I let the Cabernet sink in and successfully ignored her comments regarding work. For the most part, it was quite pleasant. At times, though, it was a bit tedious.

And, in hindsight, it makes me wonder how upset I can really be with the boy - seeing as how I clearly have growing number of "just friends" in my life too. It should go without saying that my curiosity has peaked on more than one occasion, but I've always managed to silence those fleeting thoughts out of loyalty to him.

Loyalty. Hm.

The concept of loyalty (which I believe, in my situation at least, stems from a prevailing influence of maturity) seems to be rearing it's ugly little head in every mildly confusing life scenario I encounter. I'm not dating other men because I want to remain loyal to the boy. Even if I WANTED to explore curiosity with one young man in particular, I wouldn't be able to out of loyalty to a girlfriend of mine... Though they dated years and years ago, crossing that line is taboo and forsaken. I might as well kill myself if I think toying with their history won't end badly.

Loyalty naturally plays a huge role in my ever-complicated friendships as well. I bend over backwards for my best friends out of loyalty to them, though many are so blinded by their own problems that they fail to extend the same courtesy to me.

And perhaps, in all actuality, the bigger issue really is maturity. In a late-night convo with my Mommy yesterday, we discussed the discord in many of my current relationships. I'm emotionally exhausted. The maintenance of these friendships is taking a toll, and leaving me to foot the bill. But, are the problems rooted in personality differences, or just plain maturity? Do I perceive the world differently, and handle stress in a certain manner, because I'm a little wiser than my peers? Does being the oldest child play a role? Do the stars and astrology play a role? Has my upbringing and exposure to various cities, towns and countries have anything to do with it?


Well, of course it does. As an oldest child, I was called upon to help raise Paris and MB. As a Pisces, I'm naturally more sensitive and in-tune with people and things around me. Pisces are said to possess a "natural understanding of things around them" which I thoroughly believe in and agree with. And, sheer exposure to new places and cultures undoubtedly molds individuals for the better - teaching tolerance and the ability to adapt. Truth be told, I think I've always been a bit more mature than my peers. It seems, however, to more of an issue now that I am older.

Indeed, the culmination of all of these factors has created the person I am today. It's a shame that, for all the beauty to be found in this revelation, that said maturity proves to be a help and hindrance simultaneously. I cannot really relate to your extensive indecisiveness, my friend. For a moment - yes; for weeks on end - no. I cannot understand your compulsive need to be the center of attention. If we're performing "Les Sylphides" for an audience - yes; if we're drinking and watching basketball - no. I don't understand your obsessions with shopping or dining out. And, I don't understand why you'd even think to put our friendship in jeopardy. Not now. Not ever.

Loyalty and maturity: lofty to strive for... harder to maintain.

I found myself getting a little jumpy this morning, too. Though I had managed to set my mind at ease over the weekend, I was back to my old self at 9 am. I was busy worrying, contemplating, analyzing, rationalizing, sighing, stressing, and facebook stalking. This huge frenzy - and for what? I can not control him. I cannot control any of the bridesmaids either. All I can do is control how I am affected by them. Taking a step back proved effective for a weekend, but how was I going to sustain that peace of mind? It's impossible, really, because I need to address each of them on an individual basis. But I don't want to... just yet. Well. I do want to address the boy. And I have a laundry list of things to say, questions to ask... overall pleas for understanding. And what if the end result is disappointing? What then? Am I making too big a deal of this? He just said "he met someone" and I'm over here planning their honeymoon. I need to chill.

Ugh. The internal back-and-forth could go on forever. It's time for me to stop sacrificing my happiness for others. It's time to start putting me first. I've been too loyal to others for far too long. Time to be loyal to me.

Time to be loyal to me. It might not sound like a "mature" sentiment... but I assure you that it is.

Peaks and Valleys

I’m liable to punch somebody in the face.

If I have learned anything from my mother in the past few weeks, it’s this: do not let people stress you out. Initially, I interpreted this epiphany to mean “do not let co-workers, employers, colleagues stress you out.” Lately, though, I’ve had to amend my interpretation to include friends. In all honesty, I’m finding my friends, collectively, to be some of the neediest, most selfish, least sensitive people I know. Oh yes, they are sensitive to their own needs, but they rarely extend the same genuine sensitivity to the people around them. Each of the bridesmaids has managed to lay at least one of their burdens on my shoulders. One invited herself to my home for a weekend, though I would have much preferred to spend two days alone. Though I enjoy her spirit and humor on most occasions, there are some instances when I just want to be alone. Last weekend was one of those times. When she returned home, she got into a car accident and I was compelled to follow up and ensure that she was physically and mentally well. In days following, she placed me on a party-planning committee for her sister’s line-sister. Why am I helping to plan a party for a person I don’t even know? And why do you assume that I don’t already have enough to do? That’s insensitive. Though I love her dearly, this is the same person who once chastised me for not following up with her when her grandfather’s health was failing. At the time, she would sit and talk with me for hours on end about the man in her life and how he wouldn’t take out the trash. In my mind, I was lead to believe this was the priority in her life. It was only weeks later, when she sent a lengthy e-mail to me about her grandfather did I learn that she was livid that I hadn’t once asked about his health. To me, it seemed as though she would have brought this up at least ONCE in our conversations about garbage duty, if it were actually important. Don’t get me wrong, the health of one’s family is always a priority. But how do I know to inquire when you make no reference to the situation. Ask me how many times she has followed up with me about the health of my mother? Exactly. Insensitive.

Another, God bless her, is moving here for a summer internship with a local law firm. I’m proud of her, and want to be supportive, especially since both of her parents have been in and out of the hospital lately. I’ve taken time out of my day to help research and even visit condos and apartments where she could potentially sublease for the summer months. I’ve calculated the distances from said apartments to her future job to ensure she’s close enough that her commute is not a burden. These are not things that I had to do. But, I did them because I love her and I try really hard to be a good friend. I’m not even angry with her about the situation, because I volunteered myself for it. But it is yet another instance where I’ve extended myself, and bent over backwards for a friend that might not necessarily have done the same for me were she in my position.

A third bridesmaid has been somewhat of an emotional mess lately. I’ve tried as hard as I could to be supportive with phone calls, text messages, and even a casual drive by her apartment just to check on her. Unfortunately, she’s the type to cut the world off when she’s deeply emotional, leaving me to question if she’s truly okay. She picks and chooses when to answer the phone, or even be responsive for that matter. So, when I finally do get a positive response, I feel compelled to oblige her every whim. She wants to come over to chat? Sure! She may need to talk and get some things out. She wants to drink tonight? Okay, let me reorganize my schedule to accommodate her. She’s feeling sad? Let me put down what I’m doing for a sec to console her. But wait, on instances when I need to talk, or want to drink, or want to just sit quietly with a friend – she’s busy. She has plans with her on-again-off-again guy friend. She’s with a co-worker. She’s asleep. Well, what am I to do then? Do I continue to try AS HARD AS I CAN or do I start to let go? It seems as though everyone else is putting themselves first. When will I learn to do that for me?

The final bridesmaid hates her job. Join the club honey, we all do. She hates it so much so, that every conversation she participates in eventually winds up focused on her and how she can change career paths. I helped her review her resume at a happy hour. A HAPPY HOUR. You know, where everyone else is eating, drinking and being merry? Yeah, one of those. That’s how serious it is… to her. And, because it’s serious to her, it MUST be serious to everyone else. After a 20-minute pep talk, she’s usually able to move the conversation along to what’s going on in everyone else’s life, with an occasional mention of her disdain for her job here and there. But the bottom line is that she cannot remove herself far enough from her thoughts about work to enjoy the joys of life that are taking place around her. That’s selfish. I realize that we are all dealing with stress, and handling it differently – but does everyone else realize this same truth? YOU are not the only person going through something. You’re not the only person in a valley. You’re not the only person who is stressed. Allow yourself to listen to others for a change, without consistently redirecting every conversation to a problem that you are having. At the very least, say you’ll give it a try.

Finally, there’s the boy. I had confided in him that I was feeling this way about my friends, and he really took this to heart. He called me last night to reiterate that he loved me, and that he valued our friendship, and that he couldn’t bear to think about us ever “not speaking” or “taking a year off” as we have done in the past. He told me I was “quietly becoming the best friend he had.” He followed that sentiment by telling me he had met someone. He met someone. Nothing has happened between the two of them, and he’s not even sure anything ever will. But, he was intrigued by this girl, and wanted to be upfront and honest with me about it. I could appreciate that. It showed growth from the last time we had been in this situation. And yet, this is just one more burden to me. He is another person in my life who is reaping all the benefits of our friendship, and I’m the one crying myself to sleep at night for having fallen in love again. It’s not his fault. I was the one being patient, and accepting that he didn’t want a girlfriend, and helping him with career moves, and listening to him vent, and trying to cheer him up, and daydreaming about him all day, and talking with him late at night … and for what? I tricked myself into believing that we were building something. I tricked myself into believing that if I could just wait it out… if I could just hold on… that I could finally get what I wanted from him, which was a relationship. But that’s just it! I can’t seem to hold onto him! I’ve never been able to do that. Maybe I never will.

Meanwhile, while I was doing all of this so-called “building”, he too was establishing a strong and stable friendship with me. A friendship that he truly valued and could not see himself without. One that had “perks” that was cool, and enjoyable, and fun, and passionate, and deep. And yet, in all reality, who knew when we would ever live in the same city again? He accepted that I might meet someone else, and did not shy away from the opportunity to do the same. He claims his honesty about “meeting someone” derived from him not wanting to “fuck me over.” He didn’t want to ruin what we have. But, he couldn’t deny that there was someone else who had caught his eye. The end result: he has a best friend whom he loves and doesn’t want to lose… and I have yet another broken heart.

Everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems, and so complacent with the fact that they have my shoulder to lean on, that they’ve neglected to actually be my friend. I need a shoulder too. And I’m pissed about it. I’m livid, really. Perhaps it’s my own fault for not speaking up sooner… but what the fuck? I can’t get a word in edgewise when everyone is whining, complaining, and sobbing about their lives. I can’t get a word in edgewise when people don’t pick up the phone either. So, I’m over it. I’m taking time off from the people I love the most. With tears in my eyes, and a truly heavy heart, I am wiping my hands clean of every burdensome situation that is transpiring with every loved one in my life.

Fuck you.
Goodnight.

Go Fish

The final weekend of March was a doozy. Melanie turned 25 on Friday, March 27th. The boy turned 25 of March 28th. Divvying up my time wouldn’t be too difficult…right? I spent Thursday night with Melanie, her family and close friends over dinner at South City Kitchen. I was supposed to meet up with her on Friday night as well, but the boy had just gotten here, and I was supposed to meet him at the Wale concert in midtown. There are never enough hours in the day. Suffice it to say; once I saw the boy in the sweaty, hole-in-the-wall venue, he never left my sight. Wale’s lyrics over hypnotic go-go beats reminded us both of DC and college. It was nostalgia at it’s finest. Guess I wasn’t going to make it to Aja for Melanie’s bday drinks. I could only hope that she would understand!!

Saturday morning I woke up and made him breakfast. His phone buzzed throughout the afternoon from with “Happy Birthday” texts and calls. On occasion he would answer and have a quick chat with the well-wisher, but he was mostly distracted with food, mimosas, mid-day naps and lounging around the apartment. It felt so natural to have him around. We did end up getting into a minor tiff in the late afternoon. But it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be resolved with a kiss. As he showered, I gave myself a pep talk – making myself snap out of the somber mood our conversation had just put me in. As he exited the bathroom, I moved right past him to wash away my annoyance at our conversation. I appreciated that he wanted to be fully honest with me about his previous relationships (explaining away the David Yurman comment from December, and elaborating more than I cared for him to). But there are some things a girl just doesn’t need to hear. As I bathed, he peeked around the shower curtain with puppy dog eyes. Apology accepted.

We got dressed, and headed to the Downtown Hilton to meet with some of his friends who were around for a fraternity regional conference. The initial pleasantries were nice enough. All but one of us had gone to college together, so clearly none of us were strangers. After small talk and banter about the Elite Eight and the status of our respective NCAA brackets, I guess the guys decided lightheartedly aggravate me. I was the only girl around, so naturally I was an easy target. “Damn, we live in the same city and I haven’t seen you in ages… I guess you don’t fool with me, huh?” said one of the guys. A playful comment, of course… but not one I was willing to entertain that evening. Granted, he and I did live in the same city, and we were cool, but he was right. I hadn’t seen him in ages. To me though, it wasn’t a big deal. We lived in a big city and the phone worked both ways.

“What do you mean?!” I jokingly replied back, hoping it would end there. Nope. He decided to run down dates of the last times we had seen each other, and then drew the striking conclusion that I “didn’t care about him…” or something. Well, honey, I hate to break your heart, but what the hell are you even talking about? What do I need to say so that we can end this conversation as quickly as possible? “You’re right! I’m a complete bitch. Come sit in my lap and let mama make it better.” No? “My goodness! Where has my mind been? I forgot you were the ruler of the universe and that I needed you in my life!!! Silly me.” Or… “Forget that my boo is over here – you know, your friend that’s sitting right across from us – give me your number again and we can chat this over when he falls asleep tonight.”

Give me a break. The victim role just does not sit well with me. “You haven’t called,” “I haven’t seen you,” and “you don’t fool with me,” are phrases that, I’ll admit, do have their place in life… just not amongst mutual friends to whom you barely spoke in college and with whom you have very little in common. Fishing for minor compliments so that your frail ego can boost itself up is transparent and pathetic. Come on. The thing is, the exact same scenario played out in Miami a few weeks ago. Another guy friend from college was attempting to give me a major guilt trip for not calling enough and not making enough of an effort to see him while I was in town. Who do I look like? I am not pressed about you fools. Grow up.

I know this is just a cute little game guys play to essentially say “we should hang out,” or “it’s good to see you again.” But why not use your grown up words and say just that: we should hang out! It’s good to see you again! I’d be a lot nicer in my responses if that were the case. Instead, I have to play along until I’m unnerved enough to finally roll my eyes and tell these minions to move the conversation along.

What if I just said “you’re right, I don’t care about you… now let’s have a nice little evening and not speak again until the next time I see you, okay?” Pah! I wonder how they would feel then. Who knows. For now, I’ll just resort to this statement: Sweetheart, I’m not sure what you’re looking for by making those comments… but I’m pretty sure I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. Go Fish.

The Big Day

It’s been a busy month. Turning 25 made me step up my “grown and sexy” game, which has been very time consuming to be quite honest. In any case, here are the Cliffs Notes. Details are forthcoming.

Pre-Birthday Preparation – Stumbled upon a ridiculous department store sale with BCBG dresses selling at dirt cheap prices. Birthday dress, check! Later that month, I took a trip to the David Yurman store with Anisa (finally)! After much deliberating, I finally settled on the anchor piece for my collection - classic cable-knit 7mm bracelet with a gold dome. Timeless.

The Big Day!! – Took the day off. Woke up to drop Jada off for a quick oil change, and headed to the mall for a facial. Next stop, hairdresser. Wave bye-bye to the tresses! I cut those locks OFF… and I must admit, the look is growing on me. After that, I headed to the liquor store to prepare for a little pre-game at my place. The entire time, I’m receiving hourly phone calls, text messages and gchat messages from the boy on my blackberry. Though he couldn’t be in my city for the weekend, he was making the day special. I appreciated that. With tequila and triple sec in tow, I headed to a nail parlor to meet Anisa and Cece for pedicures. Screams, screams and more screams. Oh my gooooosh! It’s so short! Do you love it?! I’m smiling. What a difference a haircut makes! I like the new ‘do, but I don’t love it. The bangs are too short, and I guess I should have given my hairdresser more direction before she chopped it all off. But, hey, it’s only hair and it will grow back. I’m 25!!! A new look for a new quarter in my life will be amazing. The pre-game flies by as Dionne arrives alongside other friends. The night blurs into morning, and I wake up with hilarious pictures in my Nikon. Even more hilarious is the fact that I wake up on my couch, with friends asleep on my floor, and in my bed. What a night. Dionne makes us brunch with groceries purchased from her food stamps (don’t ask). We eat, listen to music, watch movies and basically waste the day recounting drunken stories from the night before. How fun.

The following Tuesday – Mommy and Auntie are in town for a play. It’s nice to have them in town. Of course, Mom had MUCH to say about the new apartment and how I should be organizing and decorating my new space. I had already been stressed that the place wasn’t fully unpacked (nor fully cleaned from my bday festivities) but whatever. She’s seen me at my worst… I’m sure a messy apartment was nothing in comparison. Wednesday night we attended a play entitled “Miss Evers’ Boys” which took an in-depth look at the Tuskegee Experiments (read: exploitations) of African American men affected by Syphilis. Any story that can make you laugh, cry and deeply think about the human condition in one sitting is truly a masterpiece. Indeed, Kenny Leon’s production of this story did just that. Jasmine Guy’s performance as Miss Evers was enlightening and tragic at the same time. She captivated her audience, transitioning between scenes of her testimony as an old woman and scenes from her younger days as a nurse with the Tuskegee men. The story itself, while heartbreaking, was thoughtfully and carefully depicted in the play. Bravo.

That same night, during the middle of the production, I received a text from the boy. For the first time since college, without solicitation or warning, he told me he loved me. He told me he loved me. I sat, watching the play, completely unfocused, and let the words marinate. I re-read the text over and over again in my head. Those weren’t the words he used verbatim… but the “L” word was definitely in play, in a way that I had never heard (or read) from him. I was on Cloud 9. Happy Birthday to me.

Play It By Ear

It's crazy how quickly things can change in this life. I'm finding that the best way to get through some of life's challenges is to change with the changes.

On Monday, I received a package from the boy. A Christmas present with a card. Now, they were both thoughtful and sweet, but the card is what really stood out. The cover was silly - a man xeroxing his ass on the company copier - but the words seemed to require some reading between the lines. He said that he'd enjoyed getting to know me again... and that I should be more willing to take chances. Hmm.

Two days later, he was in my city for New Years Eve. I know, right?! With all the craziness and the "I'm Over It" post... he made his way to see me. Well, he made his way here to party with his friends.... but a little piece of me knows that he wanted to sneak in some quality time on the side. I'm happy about that. To be honest, he had mentioned coming to town awhile ago, but I paid him no mind. He's done that before, remember? Fool me once...

Wednesday afternoon, he texts me asking about hotels downtown. I'm busy searching for new apartments (our lease is up in February!!) but I text a few suggestions back. By 8:00 pm, after a few margaritas with Anisa and friends, I call asking if he's here. To my amazement, he is. He asks where we're going tonight, and I absentmindedly tell him, knowing that he probably won't show up.

After an hour of primping (nice long shower, plucking my eyebrows, self-served lipwax, painting my toenails, and finally settling on the perfect dress (one that's been sitting in my closet with the tag on it for about three years)) I prepare myself a Red Bull & Vodka, and make my way intown. I pick up Anisa and "Lucy" (one of Anisa's closest friends) and we head to the club. As soon as we reach the bar, I look to my right and see him. Has he gotten taller?! Man he looks good. And I'm too sober for this. I pretend not to see him, expedite our drink order, and usher Anisa and Lucy upstairs. I will catch up with him later.

Later, he and his friends come up to the second floor, and all the introductions are made. His boys meet my girls, and we cozy up to one another. It's so nice to see him. I'm so glad that he's finally in my city! "You said that you were over me awhile ago, but I don't think you are... because you still catch a little attitude every now and then," he says referencing our two-day speaking hiatus over the David Yurman comment. What?! LOL. It's so true, and I can't even deny it, so I just smile. He knows he's right... and we end up playing a game of cat-and-mouse for the rest of the night (mostly consisting of me relocating to another part of the club, innocently talking to some other guy, and he coming up behind me and humping my back to claim me). It almost felt like an updated version of that college jealously I've mentioned before. And the thing is, after further conversation, I come to find out he doesn't even realize what he said that made me so upset in the first place (isn't that always the case?). So, I'm letting that one go... for now. Some things never change.

Well, by the end of the night, some decisions need to be made... like where is he sleeping tonight: The Westin or at my humble abode? I'll leave it to the readers to guess what happened...

Life Without a Lovelife

About six months ago when I first started this here little blog, I mentioned having “all the answers”. Well, lately, I seem to have more questions than answers… but I still feel as though I can help my homegirls out.

I have these two friends. Cece lives here, with me, and we work for the same company. She’s in grad school, getting her MBA, with little (if any) real time to spare. Denise lives in NY, works too much, but is one of the most loveable people I’ve ever met. They are both sincerely interested in dating, and finding the right guy… however their demanding schedules simply don’t permit enough time to do so.

Now, I wouldn’t dare suggest online dating (not hating, just saying…) but I would suggest adopting a new mindset. Why is it that young black females can succeed in everything but love? It’s because we forcibly apply ourselves to our careers and degrees, and allow everything else to fall as it may. We maintain our friendships and family ties as best we can, knowing that the true essence of these relationships is founded upon our like-minded approach to succeeding in life. It’s okay if we don’t hear from each other for stretches of time. Staying on our grind can sometimes lead to alienation. We’re all hustling for the next big thing, be it a promotion, an “A” in a class, a huge presentation, or the last final before graduation. We’re all putting in work and paying dues. The inherent problem in “Career Success = Life Success” rationale, however, is that finding a life partner and sustaining a happy marriage is truly one of the most important successes any of us will ever achieve. With that said, we need to treat or love lives as such. We cannot expect to wake up one morning to the man of our dreams without putting in the work right now. We need to be more proactive about it.

So, in the same way we researched jobs, went on interviews, worked, got promoted and slowly fell in love with our work, we must search for love. We must place this “goal” near the top of our life to-do list. I’m not saying treat dates like interviews and treat marriage like a job… but I am saying to observe the parallels and appreciate the process. Make dating a priority. Make yourself available. Say “yes” in some instances when you might otherwise be inclined to say “no”. Give guys a chance. And, “forcibly apply yourself” to your love life with the same vigor you use in climbing the career ladder. Be aggressive, but not too aggressive. Act with urgency, but not haste. Find the fine line, and walk it.

We can’t expect miracles to happen overnight, but we can plan for the future, and build time into our days, weeks, months and upcoming years a plan that will land us the “love of our life”.

I plan to be more diligent about finding him this year. And even if 2009 isn’t my year for finding the One I’ll at least have found a few young men who are not.

The Weekender

Last week, I experienced the definition of "Best Weekend Ever"... or maybe, "Best Weekend In Awhile". It was one of those weekends where you happen to stumble into a good time at every turn. It was a weekend full of surprises - both good and bad.

Friday: After a long day of non-work, a new friend of mine came over to pre-game before the nights festivities. We had no concrete plans... we just wanted to see where the night would take us. We pre-gamed at my house and headed towards a trendy part of town full of bars and inexpensive restaurants. After a few $3 vodka martinis and light appetizers at one of my favorite tapas bars, we headed to a lounge in another popular part of town. Our friends were the party promoters and the event was free all night. After making our way into VIP we met a group of charming young men (most of them, at least), one of whom was drop-dead gorgeous. Slightly taller than me, scruffy mustache and beard, a hat that covered his face, and a charm that I hadn't encountered in awhile. He was so cute. He bought me a drink (after I teased him for babysitting his own), we danced a bit, and exchanged numbers. By 2:00 the lights were on and it was time for all of us to peace out. But my homegirl and I weren't tired. So, off to another venue to meet some of her guy friends from a local HBCU. Just as we're arriving to their party spot, the venue is clearing out. We're figuring out the next move and two of the three guys are playfully hitting on me already. I'm having a great time to say the least. But, it's time to go. What to do? Breakfast. We agree to meet at one guy's house for an early morning meal of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Yum.

In my drunken stupor, however, I end up drunk dialing the boy. All of these new boy-toy options, coupled with the fact that HE and I never discuss what's going on with us... well, it was starting to confuse me. I need clearly defined boundaries, rules and structure in my life. I need to be fully aware of what's going on at all times, so that I can behave (or misbehave) accordingly. It sounds vaguely narcissistic, but it's necessary! It's weird, too. In any other aspect of my life, I'm completely willing to go with the flow. With this young man, however, I'm irrational, overly pensive and always second-guessing. Though I value the relationship that I'm currently building with the boy, I need to know that we're on the same page. I need to know that we're respecting some sort of undefined boundaries though our "relationship" lacks a title and therefore requires no such thing. I'm telling you, the "boo" status never amounts to anything truly positive.

Our conversation results in absolutely nothing substantial, so I hang up the phone and head to breakfast. No need in brooding over something I cannot control or fix. After stuffing my face with carbs and sugar, I fall asleep on the couch with the two flirters. By 7:00 am my eyes crack open to rays on sunshine beaming through the blinds. It's time to go home. What a great night!

Saturday: After sleeping the day away, I head over to see the 4th bridesmaid, "Melanie". Melanie was the first person I met in college. We had the exact same major, we were both in the honors program, and at the time, we were both very uptight (while I eventually grew out of that, Mel still possesses the trait). Mel is from this city where we both currently reside, so to save money, she lives with her parents. Her dad was celebrating a birthday, so family friends were on their way. On top of that, I would be there, as would Melanie's "friend" who happened to be a boy. This young man, however, was not to be confused with a "boyfriend". Melanie, for whatever reason, was scared to death of using this title just yet.

Melanie's parents were great hosts and hilarious company. Her dad is a born comedian and her mom is a natural entertainer. He was telling jokes while she was playing songs on the piano. Between the hospitality, wonderful food and countless glasses of wine, I was content with the evening as it was. But there was more to come! After dinner, the non-boyfriend, Melanie and I headed downtown for more drinks at a local bar. We were meeting up with the non-boyfriend's friends to see what trouble we could get into. We ended up drinking pitchers of beer and playing flip-cup while watching football on several widescreens. I headed home on a full stomach, a full buzz, and a sore face from laughing so much. I slept well that night.

Sunday: Quality time with my "little sister/mentee" named "Ruby". I was running late (as usual) to pick her up, and thus, I was a little stressed. Her birthday had just passed, and I wanted to do something special for her as she celebrated ten years on earth. Ideally, I would have made it to her birthday party, but her mother neglected to tell me that the date and time had changed. Thus, I was left to my own devices and had to plan something else for us to do... Today would only be our second outing, and I wanted everything to go smoothly.

I picked her up and we went to church, which ended up being really inspirational for me. The message was very helpful and pertained exactly to my current work/emotional situation. Ruby, however, was less enthused. I guess when I was ten I found church a little drab too... ah well. Next, we went to dinner at Copeland's Cheesecake Factory. As we drove through the parking deck, and walked through various shops and restaurants to reach Copeland's, Ruby asked where we were. "Are we in a different country?" she asked. Wow. I frequented Atlantic Station on a regular basis. I shopped, ate and watched movies there all the time. I guess, though, this strip mall/neighborhood really was a stark contrast to the Section 8 housing projects in which she lived. Over dinner, she mentioned how much fun she was having, which made me smile. I mean, it was only church and dinner. But I guess, to her, it meant a lot.

We took a few pictures in front of the newly planted Christmas Tree before leaving. I guess Ruby had never played with a digital camera before, because she wanted to photograph everything. "I want to take pictures of this new country," she had said. While her morning and afternoon had been full of surprises and discovery, the evening would provide a doozy of a surprise for me.

As I dropped her off, and noted how quickly nighttime was approaching, I made subtle haste in getting back in my car to leave. No offense, but no one wants to be in an unfamiliar part of town at night... alone. I was pulling around the corner eyeing three young boys who appeared to be playing with something. What they were playing with is something I couldn't quite discern. I assumed it was a stick or something. But one last glance proved their toy was no stick at all... it wasn't even a toy, for that matter. Those boys were playing with a gun.

My shoulders sunk. My heart dropped. I shook my head. How tragic it was that my mentee was living in a neighborhood, in a community, where something so frightening could take place. These children had access to a gun. Loaded or not, the exposure in and of itself was dangerous. I considered going back to the apartment to inform her mom... but I imagined that she already knew things like this were going on around her. Who was I kidding? This was culture shock to me, and me only. I was a visitor in this neighborhood... and it was time for me to go home. But, I had my work cut out for me. I saw how much Ruby really needed me and I was looking forward to the challenge.

Have We Met?

A dear friend of mine, “Jamel”, posed an interesting question a few days ago. We were going back and forth via instant e-mail (you know, the phenomenon similar to instant messaging or g-chatting, but on the professional scale (so it appears as though you’re doing work, not talking and theorizing with your friends)), when he raised an interesting point. He asked me whether or not I thought he had a quick temper. The immediate reply was “no”. I’ve dealt with guys - well, one in particular - with the quickest tempers imaginable, and Jamel’s did not compare.

He proceeded to elaborate, explaining the context of the question, and how it related back to a former relationship of his. Therein, I recognized the problem: I don’t know “Relationship Jamel”; I know “Normal Jamel”. The dichotomy is incredible, particularly because we all possess these two sides. The person we are in a relationship varies tremendously from the everyday person we present to our peers, family and best friends. Though they may know us well, or may only see sides of us that we choose to present, their viewpoint is entirely limited. The boundaries in a relationship, however, expand. As we innately search for life partners, we allow ourselves to be more vulnerable, more selfish, more thoughtful, more poignant, and more reckless. Every emotion intensifies. If our significant other makes us angry, we’re not mad – we’re pissed. We’re furious. We’re livid. If our S.O. brightens our day – maybe we’re in love? Is this the way love feels? Is he the ONE? We smile our smiles wider. Our tears fall harder. We sometimes speak before we think, thus our apologies run deeper. Whew.

In a previous relationship, I remember keeping a journal and wondering: Am I crazy about him, or does he just make me crazy? The newness of an intense relationship is bound to raise that question. And though that particular relationship has faded (for the most part) I still find myself searching for an answer for that one…

One thing I really value about one of my first boyfriends (whom I dated on-and-off-again throughout high school and college) is that, not only have we remained friends, but he has remained honest with me. I can call “Gabriel” in the midst of any new relationship and ask him critical questions about my relationship self. He is, after all, one of the few people who actually know her. I may exhibit a quiet intensity for the things I love: French, music, dance, mixed drinks, etc. (Like, I don’t just like Little Brother; I LOVE Little Brother. I don’t just like Tryst in Adams Morgan, or Serendipity on the Upper East Side, or Flying Biscuit on West Paces Ferry; I love those places. And, whenever I can get two or more of the bridesmaids in one place – I’m in heaven.) But, my relationship self/alter-ego eagerly delves deep into the peculiarities of intimacy. There is no quiet – there is only intensity. And if the sentiments about my livelihood are any indicator, one can only imagine how deep the still waters run once I’ve entered a serious relationship. I embrace those bottomless, still waters. They drench me. I submerge.

“Gabriel” reminds me that I have a tendency to pick things apart. He reminds me that I’m over-analytical. He tells me I need to relax and oftentimes, he’s right. But he also tells me not to settle for less. He reminds me that I’m beautiful. He keeps me clairvoyant.

In relationships, I am profoundly passionate. I make myself vulnerable in situations where, with anyone else, I would not. I reveal a side of myself that I’m otherwise careful to protect. I run up my cell phone bill though I don’t consider myself a “phone person”. I pinch, poke, kiss, hug, wrestle, bite, headlock, tease and handhold because that’s how I show affection. And. Wow. My relationship self is super-affectionate. In fact, there is an interesting theory about love languages and how we best express affection for others. http://www.fivelovelanguages.com/30sec.html#love

My inability to answer Jamel’s question provided insight to a powerful and dynamic concept: the normal self vs. the relationship self. I think that the Single Aesthetic here is being able to recognize the personality differences and nuances you share with people based on your relationship to them. Even more beauty lies in the ability to consciously work on the relationship self, preparing her (or him) for a future partner. We cannot change facets (or variances) of our own personalities before we realize they exist. And, I venture to say you need not be in a current relationship to channel the relationship self and begin that internal conversation… that is, assuming there are things that need to change. I think I like my relationship self. She’s pretty cool. She knows how to cook, enjoys watching the game and plays well with others. So for the time being, until she meets someone special, I’ll keep her tucked away in a safe place. No need in getting Mr. Right Now all confused…

Not Like Crazy

When we first met
I was surprised to get
That feeling
That feeling
The kind that don't wash away with soap
So sweet to me
Ooh, the kind of feeling I need
To get me through the darkest days
For you, I've prayed

What you do is crazy babe
Not like you belong in an asylum
Crazy babe
Like the sun in the morning
And the moon at night
Like the rain falling from the sky
Like the trees growing from the ground
I'm astounded, babe
By your love for me
And your touching me
And your trust in me
Like you do, whoo whoo
Whoo whoo, whoo whoo
Whoo whoo

Even now
I still feel that feeling
Although we've grown
We're still on the same side
Of the proverbial road
Heading in the same direction
I'm so glad to know
With you I spend my time

What you do is crazy babe
Not like you belong in an asylum
Crazy babe
Like the sun in the morning
And the moon at night
Like the rain falling from the sky
Like the trees growing from the ground
I'm astounded, babe
By your love for me
And your touching me
And your trust in me
Like you do, whoo whoo
Whoo whoo, whoo whoo
Whoo whoo
-------------------------------

Jill Scott gets it right EVERY TIME.
Have you ever met someone, dated them, and then determined: "it's not for me"??

You recovered from that situation, declared yourself a "better person" and moved on with your life...

Then, for whatever reason, under whatever circumstance, you encountered that person again.

Of course, you looked fly, had your ish together, and could have cared less... I mean, that's how we do, right?

But, at the end of the conversation/evening/weekend/week/month... the inevitable truth was undeniable... you missed him.


How does that happen? I mean, being a resilient female is not easy. It takes practice - hard work, lots of tears, listening ears, best friends, new shoes, VIP entry at the club and COUNTLESS cocktails - to make your way towards "resilience". And yet, when you see him again, it's almost like he's a brand new person... He is a phenom that you've never encountered before. Your conversations are refreshing. Your shared interests are brand new. He can make you laugh when your day was otherwise bland and annoying... AND, when he says he'll call/text/visit, yet is unable to (for whatever reason), you're secretly saddened. GEEZ! Where is the Single Aesthetic in that?!

I guess, it is in knowing that, resilience is beautiful. We learn life lessons for a reason. Though it is amazing to see him, talk to him and reminisce with him... we are in a better place without him. He has helped shape us into the person we are today - and made us a better person at that. But, that was then, and this is now.

Relationships are, and will continue to be, one of the most difficult life challenges we face. The more we encounter, experience and enjoy the ups and downs of relationships, the more we will learn. There is no beauty in falling in love one time, and then settling. Once we experience the roller coaster that love has to offer, we're able to determine our own tolerance for what we will accept and what we will not. We are firm in our position on how much we're willing to endure. We know how far a man can push us before we're fed up and ready to call it quits. If we never experience a broken heart, we're never aware of our limits.

Indeed, the Single Aesthetic of growing in love lies in our willingness to hurt for awhile. Once that time has passed, we're able to seek out new relationships, learning more about ourselves and new relationship possibilities. I wonder if, after our broken heart mends, we can ever permanently reconcile with the person who broke it? Not that "politically correct" reconciliation (per Hillary and Obama), but a real, earnest, honest, heart-felt reconciliation...

Regardless, Jilly from Philly gets it right every time: what he does is crazy...