It's for me.

I've met someone online and it turned out he is a friend of a friend - and that mutual friend gave me the green light. "He's a good guy." Fortunately, we were chatting before we figured out we had a mutual friend.

It's long distance, too. We both travel quite a bit for our jobs and happened to cross paths during our travels - which is how we met.



We're in that 3-hour-phone-call-nightly phase - and it feels good. I'm struggling with keeping things in perspective, but I'm managing not to get beside myself. Long-distance isn't easy - I know this - but the number of things we have in common just make it uncanny:

• He's black - was married to a Puerto Rican woman. I'm Puerto Rican - was married to a black woman.
• We both divorced 7 years ago
• We both have two kids. One boy and One girl each.
• He's in the same business as our mutual friend and the two of them were on the same business trip together when he and I met.
• We both live in one city 70% of the time, and both spend 30% of our time in a different city.
  
• We both do the 70/30 thing because our kids are in one city and work in the other
• We both have very close relationships with our ex-inlaws
• The Bronx is where he spends that 30% of his time - I was born in the Bronx and my momma still lives there.

We learned a lot about each other talking for quite a while now - and notice how nothing above has any relation to sex. It's just personality here. We've discussed meeting in person and what the hell happens if we hit it off in person and decide it's worth pursuing further ... and we're both willing to work it out, travel, etc. I know long distance isn't easy, I say again ... but it seems like it could allow me to focus on raising my kids when I'm in daddy mode, without someone local wanting to see me, or being jealous of the time I keep exclusive to my kids. It seems like it would allow me to focus on work when I'm supposed to be focused on work. I don't know - I compartmentalize and it seems like it would work alright.

If I still have readers - I'm sure you'll post your opinions. Let me have it.

I deserve better

Self-talk here.

I go back and forth between maybe he does and probably he doesn't. While I understand my own propensity to weigh that balance in the "doesn't" favor ... I just stopped myself and realized this:

Why the hell is this such a brain fuck anyway? I mean, really, the fact that I have to wonder is really all I need to know. I can play this game all day, and fill both the pros and the cons columns ... but really, why play this head game AT ALL? I deserve better.

I had two fuck buddies and haven't really made contact with them in some time. Really, the term fuck buddy is a misnomer here because I haven't had penetrative sex in 16 months (yes, I had to count):

You know, really there isn't much they were doing to me that I couldn't do myself ... and I'm pretty good at knowing what the hell I like. I'll just handle my own business. I deserve better.


I have a bit of a confession - I know that I am struggling with losing weight because before I put the weight back on, I was promiscuous as hell. I know how the dating scene works and I know that all the attention I don't get now will start coming on back when I get to about 160-165 pounds. (Sweet Jesus, they wouldn't leave me along!) And a part of me just doesn't want to deal with the superficiality of it all.

But there's a part of me that wants to at least FEEL healthy and FEEL attractive - I really just need to commit to diet AND exercise, because ... I deserve better.

Emotional intelligent quotient on the rise

There was a time in my life when I couldn't handle shit. I was always emotional, crying and hated when shit didn't go my way. No one ever saw that side of me unless they were in my inner circle. To the world at large, I was hard as a rock, impenetrable and stoic even. But I would break down when I was on my own. I happen to have a pretty decent IQ, but emotionally? It's my Achilles heel.

Or so I thought.

It just occurred to me this evening that I'm amidst a pretty complicated situation and handling it with amazing levity. I don't really feel emotionally torn up about it ... But the old me would've been distraught and crying and seeking thejadednyer's ear and shoulder. (I don't know how she's put up with me for so long). But I'm not ... But I have a few things to get off my chest just the same:

Thejadednyer (google her ... Her blog is great and she's one of my bestest besties and has known me for longer than I care to admit.) had once told me that I just keep going on out there dating even after all the shit I've been through. And, if there's one difference between her and I ... It's that I refuse to be jaded.

For me, look - i have been cheated on, yes: but I have never cheated. Never.

I have been dragged through court on ridiculous charges that were totally dropped 1 hour before court was in session - but I have never treated someone unfairly.

I have known love and lost love and know what it's like to be hurt ... But in the end, it really was good for me.

But I will not be jaded ... My experiences are what they are ... And I have gleaned from them every drop of educative benefit that I could ... And I have walked away from what was left over a better person ... And ready to try again.

But let me get indignant for a second: I refuse ... REFUSE to give any one of my ex's one IOTA more of my life. If I stay paralyzed by indecision, but the fear to move on, of getting hurt ... Well, I continue to give him control over me. Really?! He'll to the mutha fucking naw.

So, my refusal to be jaded ... The thing that keeps me moving forward and ready to try again ... And again ... And again? It's this: I will not live in bondage to an ex.

Naan uh one of em.

The many faces of Mr. Right

Some time ago, I thought I had run into The One. And by some time ago, I mean ... nearly 2 years ago. By the time I had the courage to do something about it, I found that I didn't have nearly the courage that I thought. It was riddled with anecdotes and ummms and such ... and Im not particularly proud of how i handled that.

But the truth is that he embodied the great majority of the things i want in a partner. And that really made me nervous broaching the subject - and well, whatever, there was no reciprocity (as it turned out) and I suppose it doesn't really matter HOW that all clumsily stumbled out of my mouth. I put my grown man on, accepted it and kept i moving. The truth is that I dont care how deeply I care about someone - if reciprocity is nil, then no matter how I *feel* about it, I'm going to behave accordingly and keep it moving. And thats what I did.

However, what I haven't breathed to a soul ... not to him, not to my family, not to my best friends, not even to god almighty ... is this: The thing that made me nervous is both the thing within me that foretold what his response was going to be and the thing that rears its ugly head periodically when I am far from the mountain tops of life ...the notion that I simply do not possess the ability to be loved.

Crazy, right?

I could go on and on about my childhood to cite instances that tore into the fallow ground of my adolescent heart and planted that self-deprecating seed within me - but, i will give a synopsis of the cliff notes version here: by the time I was 10, I knew mine was a pregnancy my mother didn't want, that she tried to abort me and she gave me to her brother and sister-in-law to raise because she just didn't appreciate the sight of me.

Look, Im a grown ass man, a father of two, earned a bachelors degree and then a masters degree and have been on my own since I was 17 ... I am not in somw whoa-is-me place begging for someone to save me from me ... I have dealt with this, I know from where it stems and I know how to talk myself through it when I fall into old ways of thinking. Just know that dealing with that rejection wasn't easy - and know that he doesn't know how hard that was.

The main reason he doesn't know is that people have a tendency to think more highly of themselves when someone is crushed by their disinterest - but this wasn't about him and his rejecting me and about what a great thing I lost when he said he wasn't interested. It was about me ... and my own bouts with self-doubt. I had to fight hard as hell after that not to fall into some matter-of-fact place where i simply chalk it up to "eh - I mean, its ME ... why WOULD he be interested." because that would have meant that my life is meaningless, my love is worthless and my body isnt a temple after all.

Again .. not because of HIM, but because of ME. I had to keep reminding myself that I have made enormous changes in my life because I *am* lovable ... that he wasn't proof that the rejections in my childhood were indications that I lacked the ability to be loved. He was simply just another fool who couldn't see the venerable storehouse of good things within me. like my momma was. I posses the ability to be loved, dammit ... i simply do.

So - what if after all that work ... he gives an indication that maybe he was interested all along?

That married guy ...

I was in my college roommate's wedding as an usher. I looked pretty cute in that tux, if I do say so myself. That was in the late 90s. It was something I probably should not have done, I can admit in retrospect. It really was awkward standing up for that marriage, vowing before God and everyone that I would do everything possible to keep it together ... but I decided that part of keeping that vow was NOT telling her that I had slept with him while they were dating.

They're divorced now. (You're shocked - I know)

After that experience, however, I made a vow of my own without the aid of a tux, a church and a priest ... I vowed never, ever to sleep with a straight guy again. I mean, people ... it was fucking AWFUL. Just plan ole bad sex. It was so bad that I actually told him ... "man, you really ARE straight."

That did wonders for his ego ... because, people, really - he was just experimenting. Believe me. He was REALLY *just* experimenting. I know some people have a hard time believing that a guy could mess with another guy and not be one drop gay, but this dude was seriously just trying to exhaust every possible anything.

We had gone out drinking the night before. It was my ninth semester (out of eight!) and my last. (that's a totally different story - shh. Later.) And I had wanted this man in bed for several years. But we were friends and it was college and we just drank and acted like retards. That night, we were draggin our asses back from the bars and my dorm was closest and on the way to his. There was an enormous hill (There had to be a 25-30 foot change in elevation from bottom to top) between my place and his and to make a long story short ... we crashed at my place, both passed out on my full size futon.

The light of the next morning was poking at my eyelids while I slept and I tried desperately not to notice the red behind my eyelids. I felt myself taking deep, steady breaths trying to stay relaxed so that I could fall back asleep but a strange sensation came over me. I don't know how to explain it - through the dry hangover I felt watched. So, I opened my eyes and there he was, awake and staring at my face while I slept. I smiled, turned around and reached back to pull his arm around me. And then I went back to sleep. He didn't stop me, and he didn't pull away.

Later that day, we ended up back at my place - night had come. Conversation got interesting and we beat around the bush talking about what gay sex was like. I'd had it - he hadn't. Eventually, I told him I could kiss him and show him. He didn't say no. I approached him and placed one hand on each arm of the chair and leaned into his face. "Can you handle it?"

"Yeah," he said.

I licked my lips, drawing closer. "I'm serious, man."

Nothing.

Then I traced his lips with my tongue.

He kept his eyes closed as I looked to see his expression when I was done. He was steadying his breathing.

Then, I kissed him - full on. And he kissed back. And our tongues rolled together until I had to stop to get his shirt over his head. Eventually, he was completely disrobed.

He laughed quietly and became a bit shy. "I'm naked in front of you in your room," he said.

"That's the the problem. The problem is ... I'm *not*"

He took my clothes off in the clumsiest of fashions and I wished I would've just done it myself. He was better endowed than my ex ... the one man I had had sex with to that point, and I wasn't sure I could deal with all of that. But I took him into my mouth anyway ...

He had told me that he was frustrated with his wife because she couldn't get his whole dick in her mouth. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to either. I think I was about half an inch shy of doing so ... but I tried.

And that's pretty much how everything went. I tried to do everything his wife couldn't ... and he would do a fucking thing. As a passive participant, I think he felt it made him not necessarily gay. He continued to be clumsy, say things in the least sexy way possible and had an overall detached experience with me ... and it showed. For two years I wanted this experience ... but I wanted him to want to be there with me. And, he really didn't want to be ... he just felt safe with me - safe enough to experiment and not have anyone know. And I'm good for it - I didn't tell.

It was all just a big waste of my time. I didn't really enjoy myself at all. AT ALL. And, you know what ... I really don't think he did either. It all just got awkward. Mechanically, that is - his movements weren't fluid, he wasn't really into it and he just wanted me to make it all happen. And I wasn't nearly experienced enough to be all that right then.

We're friends to this day - he's the biggest whore I know. He's hot as hell and the women just love him ... and he does love himself some pussy. He gets laid more than anyone I know. And I've heard about lots and lots and LOTS of his conquests over the years and since his divorce. And once he send me a pic of his then girlfriend's tits ... holy fuck they were huge!

People - for real. He's straight. And I won't ever sleep with a straight dude again.

Back and Forth

I must admit that sometimes I'm not so optimistic about finding the right guy for me - other times I'm expectant and just know it's going to happen for me. Right now? Eh, kinda down.

I don't know how to explain it - but I do know that I appreciate my mountain tops because when I'm in a valley like I am now I miss them. It happens to me during holidays - even though Labor Day weekend has never meant much to me, I always feel like everyone else has something to do - and I never do.

I suppose that's why I try to schedule something during the holidays to try and host dinner or whatever - but I don't always do it. I made zero plans for this weekend and I've found myself feeling down in the dumps - it sucks.

But I'll bounce back - I always do. I'm teaching this week and being on platform has a way of making things disappear. I get into that zone and it's a good thing for me ... even if what I'm teaching is relatively boring material.

Anyway - I've been texting quite a bit with my date of last week - that's promising. And I think I'm just ready to go back to Chicago. Indianapolis can really depress me.

Condoms and lube

I was cleaning out my work bag and there's this zipped compartment that I never go into and when I opened it, it was full of condoms, female condoms, and lube ... and I had totally forgotten about all that nonsense JACK carried around.

I admit I was a little bit disappointed in me for having need to carry all of that around with me in order to be ready at a moments notice to add another notch to my bedpost. It feels good to be past it.

I had a date earlier this week with a really sweet guy. We talked a lot and laughed a lot and all in all it was a decent, normal date. We walked to the red line together - I heading north and he south. We hugged and kissed on the cheek and said our goodbyes. And texted all the way home.

Reminded me of this old song ... remember this?

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 ...

The horizon is futher away

Some time ago I dated this wacko of a dude who is gun-totin' police officer. He asked me what I would do if I knew there were only 24 hours left until the end of the world. I told him I would be with my kids. He said, "but what if there wasn't enough time to get to them?" I answered, "well, I'd die on my way." He said I was bullshit - and we went back and forth for a bit before I realized it didn't matter that he didn't believe me. But then he told me what he would do. He would shoot people and rape dude and just do whatever the fuck he wanted. I cut the conversation short - he noticed it bothered me and claimed I just wasn't understanding him. Gotta go - bye.

Some many months later he was in my neck of the woods and called me. Turns out, the dude he was on my side of town to see had stood him up and he wanted to know if I wanted to do something. I had nothing better to do and since this was most certainly not a date, I figured - why not. So, he picked me up and we went out for a drink.

He asked me a poignant question, this black man who doesn't date black men. "Are you still only focused on dating black guys?"

"Yup."

"How's that going for you?"

I gave him a stank look, stared him up and down and quipped, "not very good, apparently." He laughed. I laughed it off and whatever. I was annoyed by this man who wouldn't date black men when he himself was black. This was one of the reasons I have dated latinos, even though I have a preference for black men. How could I refused to date latinos and then chastise a black man who won't date black men?!? I *had* to date latinos ... because, I live to chastise people.

Seriously, though - it would be hypocritical, right? But recently, since I've given up casual sex (on account of it being cold, emotionless and flat out just not good sex at ALL) I've given that question of his a lot of thought. How *IS* it going for me? And for a hot minute I considered just refusing to date black men altogether because I've had zero luck finding an attractive, intelligent, single, gay Black man who is Black first, Gay second and is actually attracted to me. Instead, I've found some dumb-ass, lazy-eyed mother fuckers who salivate at me but refuse to actually BE gay because it's taboo. Or, I find decent guys who are willing to date on the DL ... because they already have a partner, or a wife! Or I find perfectly suitable men who just aren't that into me. I almost decided that that crazy gay police officer was right ... this really wasn't going well for me.

But I couldn't do that - instead I realized I had to broaden my horizons to be more inclusive, not more EXclusive. So, I've been paying attention to white guys more. And, you know what ... it's plausible. Possible! IN fact, one of those dudes at the kids day camp mighta coulda gotten it in the bushes. But I digress - in the spirit of expanding my list of potential mates, I'm adding white dudes to the mix.

But Asians and Indians better not be holding their breath ... I'm seriously not at ALL attracted.

*shudder*

(Shut the hell up, dammit - slow progress is progress nonetheless!)

My new motto

Reciprocity ... or Return to Sender

At work, I get back so much mail from people who don't know their damn addresses it's unreal. Seriously, I had one application from someone who wrote down their address, complete with the wrong zip code. IN INK!

How the fuck you don't know where you live?

(Actually, how the fuck and I already digressing?)

So, as I was saying - for various reasons I get lots of mail returned with that yellow sticker from USPS ... RETURN TO SENDER [insert reason here]

: No mail receptacle (wait - your dumb ass don't have no mailbox?!?)
: No such address (are you fucking kidding me?)
: Recipient No Longer At This Address - Forwarding Time Expired (Fuck. Me. How long have you been using this bullshit address?!?)

... seriously, the list goes on and on and AWN! ugh.

Remember this dude I had been on a date with? Who was nice and I was going to look past all the things JACK would focus on? The one who I picked up (he has no car). I picked up the tab because *I* was the one who asked him out. Yeah - him.

He's made zero attempts to see me again, rarely initiates texts or IM conversations and doesn't really call. I've even been to the store he works at ... I ask for permission and he said he was looking forward it ... I went, saw him for about 30 seconds and the text I got later was "I'm glad you came by - it was good seeing you again"

But no attempts to take the reigns and actually ask me out ANYWHERE.

So, I got to thinking about how mail is the only thing that seems to come back to me. At least it comes back with reasons. And from that place grew my motto - like a seedling taking root in bad situation to teach me something new:

Reciprocity ... or Return to Sender.

From where ever he came, he can return. I haven't heard from him since except a 3am message this weekend, "I just passed your crib," alluding to his drive back to his house from downtown or boystown or wherever. I didn't respond - I'm just sending him back to his momma.

No really, he lives with his parents.

I hadn't realized it ...

Last week's date was a decent date by most standards. He was interesting, conversation was good, the food was good - and he didn't try to lick my tonsils when we kissed. He's intelligent, doesn't sag his pants - and he actually owns slacks! Not bad for starters ...

... if you kept up with my previous JACK blog, you know I've had some ridiculous experiences when I was out there just fucking for fucking's sake. And this was a date - like, an actual DATE. And I know it was an ACTUAL date because ... well, I might as well tell you ... I was the one who asked him to dinner.

So, of course it comes up that I've made some significant changes in my life over the past 7 months or so. I quit casual sex sometimes before Christmas - I quit smoking in early January - I started training for the Chicago Marathon in May.

And he asked me a very good question: Why? Why all of these things all at once?

So, I answered honestly. I really did. I have been wanting a relationship for about a year now - and by last fall I was so frustrated that I wasn't in one that I took inventory, and I realized that I knew exactly what I wanted ... but I wasn't any of those things. And I needed to fix that.

So, I've been focusing on improving me so that I can be worthy of the things I am looking for - of the man I want.

Look, readers - that's 100% true. I am quite self-aware and I know exactly from where in the depths of me the last 7 months of my life have come from. But I didn't really realize the actual value of the statement, or of my knowing so, of my having actually gone through with this self-improvement for the sake of being able to be a positive influence in the life of a man who positively impacts mine. I know I don't want no junk, so I won't BE no junk ... but when I told this man all of this, answering his question I found him to be unresponsive for a few seconds.

For a few seconds he just stared at me and I wondered if maybe he just thought I was crazy. Or maybe *HE* was crazy - all glassy-eyed and frozen ... not moving a muscle. And all at once it hit me ... the power of my statements, of the reality of the past 7 months of my life. I've never actually considered what it would be like to TELL a potential suitor all of these things ... but here it is ... and I promise you I was watching the man have a mini brain orgasm.

When he came to, he said, "wow. that's a great answer."

"Well, it's the truth."

"You just became so much more intriguing to me just now."

"Did I?"

"Mhmm"

I smiled and took another bite of my lamb - which, btw was off the mother FUCKIN' chain ... but I digress.

I'm pretty sure I'm in a good place. As I've mulled things over since that date, I've realized that I want to get to know him better - for the time being, at least as much as I would need to know him in whatever capacity in my life. No cart before a horse here ... I just want to be able to call him friend right now and if things happen down the road or no, then so be it.

I do need to tell him that though - and I'll make sure it comes up next time we speak. That's where I stand and he can't just be "waiting patiently" for me.

Interesting turn of events, eh?

Did I really just do that?

Went out on a date last night. Didn't get home until 2am. Fogged up the windows in the car ... but, *officially* it's still been six months.

Right?

Right - no intercourse ... just fun.

Interesting thing is that this guy really does make me smile ... and he's really into me. It's all just very nice.

But there are some issues - and I've got to make sure I don't let this get too ahead of us. I asked him over dinner what were his short term and long range plans ... and he had nothing.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

Really?!

We won't be rounding third base, boo - but we can chill there.

Open Mind

So, this dude who is trying to woo me ... I think JACK would have a lot to say about all the things that are wrong with him. I am trying to keep JACK in check, because I really did kill him off. I ain't tryin' to have him rattle chains and haunt me up in this bitch, ok?

Not quite as financially stable as I would like - a little bit more overweight that I typically care for - the mohawk (it's low and tight, but it's a mohawk!) ...

JACK, STFU, carajo!

Alex focuses on the fact that he seems to be genuinely nice - he's intelligent and tells me that it's my own intelligence that intrigues him. He told me he's trying to get to know me, not trying to fuck me ... (and he said it eloquently!) ... He's not caught up in any ex- drama (that I know of) and took a vow himself to cease casual sex and he's three months into it. (I'm six months into my own vow)

So - I'm keeping an open mind. Because when we speak - he makes me smile. Genuinely. I think this is what the whole "not fucking for fucking's sake" is about. He's fun and maybe eventually I can find him intriguing ... maybe in a few months I might LIKE him, like him ...

... or maybe in a few months we'll be boyz and making fun of stupid bitches who wear 4" heels for a walking tour of the City of Chicago.

I'm good either way.