To mean something

I've been thinking about what I miss most about being in a relationship - and I've come down to one thing: I want to mean something to someone. I want thoughts of me to be dancing around in someone's head, fueled by the thoughts of him dancing around in mine while I work, travel, or do whatever it is I'm doing when we're not together. I want an out of the blue text about being missed, a basket of fruit in my hotel room when I get there just because or a simple card with simple text: "The "L" in TTYL is NOW!"

You know, I spend so much time and energy on other people ... not that it's all bad, of course. I invest time into my kids, into my job and, therefore, my bosses, into my friends, etc. And although my kids have definitely taught me what unconditional love is all about, I know that my relationship with them is designed to allow them to leave. But I would really like to be equally invested with another man in a relationship designed for us both to stay.

I'm not broken!

Had a conversation today with an ex co-worker who is at least 20 years my senior. It was an interesting conversation about what gay sexual freedom was, that he remembered people being arrested for simply BEING in a gay bar ... before the stonewall riots. I can hols my own in such conversations.

He wondered if maybe AIDS wasn't a good thing for the gay community because it really made us THINK about sex instead of being so cavalier about it. I thought that was interesting. DEEP. But interesting, or maybe lemonade out of lemons-like.

At the same time, he decided to tell me that I was neglecting a large part of my life. That I spent too much time traveling and all that and that I was giving too much of myself to my children and not taking care of ALEX. Although he respected my role as a parent and how important it is to me, he thought I needed more.

I tried to explain to him that I made a conscious choice last year NOT to just have sex for sex's sake and that I wasn't crazy. I went a year without sex from the last time I touched my ex-wife to the next time I felt ready to really do anything ... these past 8 months for me aren't a dry spell, or some sign that I'm broken. This is how I do - the real me isn't comfortable with casual sex for sex's sake and I have to be true to me.

Apparently, according to him, it's unnatural not to have sex.

What the fuck!? For the love of Jesus, we all spent the majority of our lives NOT having sex. I'm not saying I don't enjoy it - I'm saying, I've got shit to do. I refuse to let my dick point me in the direction I should go ... instead, I determine my destiny and I get there.

He admitted that he doesn't have kids and isn't at all paternal. In fact, he said he would toss a baby into the trash if he had one. (Graphic, I thought). In the end, we agreed to disagree, I think. I'm not sure. I don't think I got through to him and I think he's actually trying to pluck feathers off a chicken and shedding the blood of a goat in the name of getting me back to normalcy.

But I want to be perfectly clear about this. When I had conjured up JACK in order to be able to really handle promiscuity, I never once neglected my children. I wasn't late to pick them up from daycare .. even thought I was 200 miles away. I never once forgot to feed them, bathe them, help them with homework, give them their asthma medicine before bed, read with them ... tell them how much I love them, or kiss on them or love on them.

I have NEVER brought home a piece of ass, or otherwise introduced them to a bevvy of fuckers I've dated or bedded. They have a stable life, albeit it with parents who don't live together. They are intelligent, well-rounded kids who will contribute positively to society and through them my legacy as a father will live on far beyond my grave. That's important to me. And I was able to maintain that even when I was fucking a new dude every month ...

And you know what? Whether I am a whore or no, my kids won't have to deal with a FRACTION of the nonsense I had to deal with as a kid - the fighting, the arguing, the police, the lovelessness, the stealing, the lying, the taunting, the oppression. NONE of it. My role as a parent has nothing to do with my sex life, and I'm not giving TOO MUCH of me to my kids. It's ridiculous.

The truth is that my decision to STOP being promiscuous? It's for the same reason that man thinks I should be fucking my brains out. Because I deserve it.

Except I don't deserve sex. I deserve a man - the totality of a man. And I'm not going to find him treating my dick like a metal detector and men like pieces of scrap iron.

That's how I'm taking care of ALEX.

Equal and Opposite Reactions

So, no sooner than that fool cancels on me TWICE in one weekend ... I come across another seemingly nice dude. I've decided that I'm all about meeting new people for the sake of meeting new people. I'm not trying to hose everyone down in gun oil or otherwise try to bed a fool ... Even if it's to get to know someone on a friend level ... or whatever. Look, even if I'm not interested, I figure I need to expand my network in case the dude I'm not interested in has an interesting friend.

You follow me?

I scheduled a dinner date tonight with someone else. It's partly a statement that I'm not going to sit around and be a fool for nobody.

In the end - I think the dude that canceled did me a favor. I totally fell asleep for a 4 hour nap. yesterday. I slept right through the time I was supposed to be out with him. After running 11 miles on Saturday, I was tired as HELL.

Anyway - a date tonight. Latino (I know, right?!!), my age, has two kids like I do ... He's probably got a lazy eye, a missing front tooth and can't pronounce "sexy." *shrug*

If he cancels, I'm going to repost yesterdays' blog. LOL.

History is a good predictor

So, this brunch date? He canceled. I was fine with it ... today he called and asked me to a movie tonight. I thought it was quite the upgrade from brunch, and since he had to cancel, I accepted.

At 5pm I text him and he says:

"I have no excuses but I just can't make it. I'm sorry."

My response: "I had a feeling. ok"

See, I'm going to need people to stop asking me why I'm still single. I get that a lot. The answer is quite simple - I've got too much shit going on to be bothered with nonsense. I have not asked this dude for a reason, not when he canceled for brunch or for why he canceled the movie. I don't intend to, either - because quite frankly, it's not important in my life. I don't know him like that and the whole point of the date was to get to know him ... and I feel as like I've gotten to know enough already.

I won't be seeing him - I don't care what the reasons are - I just won't entertain anymore invites to meet. Eventually, he'll contact me less ... fewer texts, fewer emails and then it'll be like before we chatted ... he won't be in my phone and I won't be in his and I'll continue doing what I do.

Dating Pool

The dating pool is definitely a public pool ... defined by overcrowding, inattentive lifeguards and a bunch of minorities who can't swim.

(Let the analogy marinate for at long as necessary - then read on)

Some of us test the waters with our toe, some cannonball in and others just wade in the shallow end refusing to get our hair wet.

(Ok, enough with the analogy)

Mr. Old Navy tried to start a text conversation with me again. He asks how I'm doing ... I say that I'm good and with the kids and ask, "How u?"

*dead air*

He's really a trip. I don't have disdain for him, mind you - he just isn't comin' wit' it like he ought to.

In an effort to not focus squarely on black dudes, I canceled my BGC account. The reality is that no one hardly ever spoke to me on there anyway, especially since I began to advertise that I wasn't about nonsense or tomfoolery anymore. All of the people worth anything have materialized and I have some great friends as a result of that stint.

I still have my adam account and have the same message on there. I got a message from this screen name I didn't recognize. The picture seemed somewhat familiar though and the message seemed to connote that we'd spoken before.

And in fact, we had. It dawned on me who it was - a dude I chatted with last year. The same dude who I spotted i my cell phone earlier in the day while going through my address book when I was at the kids karate class. The SAME dude I had decided to call next weekend when the kids went back with their momma.

I thought it was uncanny.

We spoke last night - same voice, same blah blah blah. Last we spoke, he was just getting out of a pretty bad relationship. This time, it's a year plus behind him. So, I was intrigued.

I asked him how he found me on adam, since he was using a new account and I wasn't listed as one of his friends ... AND I had moved my account to another part of the city when I moved with my roommate. He skirted the issue - was he looking for me? hmmm. I'm still unclear, but it was nice to touch base with him again.

Long story short - we're having brunch on Sunday. It'll be the first time we meet in person. Should be cool. Ever onward and upward, I figure ...

ow - my knees!

Apparently, your knee cap travel up and down in this little space designed for it. Mine, however, prefer to glide up and outward ... so, this half marathon attempt of mine is hanging precariously in the balance since I develop Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome. Holy bum knee, batman!

Several physical therapists have taped up my knee trying to force my patella to glide directly upward, but that motion is not natural for me, since I've got, on I don't know ... thirty-four years of experience doing it wrong! It's the weirdest feeling in the world to walk with my knees all taped up.

Today, she taped them up again after my physical therapy and I've managed to put up with the discomfort this time. Progress? Maybe. When I asked her if I can run .. I got a very interesting response:

"Until it hurts."

Now, "The Gays" are at the ready to take that comment all out of context ... so, before you weigh in, I've already heard:

"My OB/GYN said the same thing"
"or until the hurt feels good ..."

So, you've got to come pretty good to top those. (or maybe I just did with that one right there ...)

At any rate, I'm sure I look sexy as hell with medical tape on my right knee and a little bit of a limp. All I need is a gap between my teeth and a cane and I can be THAT old guy in the club.