It gets better

If you read "The Letter," you know that my ex- and first love emailed me to lay out his feelings for me, to confess that he would ALWAYS love me ... you know, while also telling me that he was getting married.

It took me a while to get over that email. In fact, I read it now and I can't say it's yet void of emotions for me. Certainly, however, it's more like pushing on a week-old bruise now. At the time, it was more like snapping a femur, breaking the skin and bleeding out.

While on the phone addressing that letter, I get an invitation to the wedding and an insistence that I bring a date. I said I would bring Jaded. He insisted I have a man on my arm. I said I would bring Jaded. And she agreed to go with me! So, I took it seriously. I mean, I asked Jaded to go with me and everything!

But we didn't go. Actually, I didn't find out about the wedding date until the day before when I deciphered it from a FB post. I was upset - I figured that an invitation that came with such flair and drama should be equally dramatic to cancel. But it wasn't - and I didn't know why. I chose to congratulate him and let him have his wedding, honeymoon and all that without the crazy ex- murkying shit up.

I wasn't going to be THAT guy.

Eventually, however, I addressed it. Because, as I pointed out, I deserved to know that I was being disinvited - was it a smaller affair than originally expected? I could understand that it was being kept small. Did the husband protest? I should know that he has such protests, considering we are in each others' phones and are friends on FB. Did he think I would act out? Seriously - I'm not THAT guy! Or maybe he just forgot - and in that case, I should tell him that's fucked up (because I *am* the dude that confronts people!) Whatever - I thought he thought better of me than to just ignore me and avoid the issue. I mean - we certainly have discussed more disheartening topics.

But - no. It was something I didn't expect. He deliberately didn't invite me and deliberately avoided the issue. WTF! I mean - didn't you WRITE that last letter?

Yes - and he also realized that his feelings for me aren't just in the past. They're in the here and now. As in ON TODAY.

And because of that he couldn't have me there while he took vows and married someone else.

(Is this really my reality right now? IS IT?!? FML)

The letter

I'm just at home, cleaning... and this song "My First Love" by Faith Evans comes on... I'm not sure if you've ever listened to it. I mean really listened to it. There were many songs that have helped me heal past our relationship. But it wasn't until this song that I sincerely started to heal because I sincerely began to accept what you are to me.

I know we've talked and talked. I know we've seen each other and began moving beyond many things that we've both done wrong, but as I move forward with my life. I'm compelled to open up this chapter once again, ya know to look at the pages.

See, I am going to ask Jeremy to marry me (he doesn't know it yet). I'm telling you this NOT for your approval or even your acceptance. But because you ARE my first love and like the song says "no one could ever take your place". It was only when I saw those eyes again how much I never stopped loving you and I never would. After everything I thought, no. That's wrong, the feeling I had you was still amazing.

Every relationship, hell every friendship, I have based on how I felt for you and how you made me feel. People say you shouldn't do that but my heart didn't care. Im actually proud of that.

Alex, I will always, ALWAYS love you. You were the first person to make me really smile. The first person to truly make me feel sexy. The first person to make me listen, and yearn, ache, and hope in someone else. Such an amazing thing... you are.

I did promise myself years ago that I would make love last next time. I think I truly can this time. But I couldn't in good conscience tell Jeremy how special he is to me without telling the first man to fill and break my heart that I will spend my years and death loving him too.

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?

Sex and Cigarettes: Diet and Exercise

I must admit that when I say I haven't had sex since mid-December 2009, I do mean intercourse. The totality of everything else since mid-December is like 4 sessions - and I didn't even let it go very far those times. So, seriously - JACK had more sexual contact in a _month_ than I've had in 12. I do consider that progress.

PLUS - I know the name of each dude I fooled around with. That's a HUGE difference.

It's going on 47 weeks without a cigarette, though - and there I have not cheated at all. I have not put a cigarette to my lips since January 4. In fact, I have not touched one, lit one or otherwise engaged in any inappropriate cigarette touching in all this time.

In these two areas of my life I have seen great progress in 2010.

Diet and Exercise? Stop judging me, already!

Seriously, though, I have to really get a grip on my having given up on going to the gym and on eating healthily. Knowing myself as an emotional eater, I wonder if I shouldn't make an appointment with a counselor to discuss some things. I might need his objectivity, and the fact that I haven't seen him in 3 or 4 years would really make a session or two with him actually FEEL objective.

I am realizing that the issue with my First Love is a problem for me. His asking me for my blessing to marry another man was an emotional blow and while I hid it very well, I can't deny that it's been there bothering me. And as I contemplate how much I've eaten in the last week (under the guise of thanksgiving feasting), I really have to admit to myself that the totality of that situation is a heavy weight.

And it is so because I can't confront my ex-wife about the role she played in keeping him and me apart because we're co-parenting and I really can't let all of that out because when she feels attacked and gets defensive, she's like a cornered opossum ... and I've not intentions on co-parenting with a rabid wild animal.

I really do think that if I see that social worker again and just let it out, confess out loud that I forgive her and really do give him my blessing, then I can really deal with how my emotions about it have affected my diet and exercise habits.

I know it may sound crazy - but I am quite self-aware ... and the fact that the one person I have ever been in love with was actually in love with me too and opined for me as much as I did for him really does make me wonder What If.

What if I had the balls to be out the closet when I was in college ...
What if I actually had told him that he was my first boyfriend, that I was a virgin when I met him?
What if I fought for him?

And while I know I wouldn't have my children and my career and the life i currently have - that I would be a different me today, and that I really do love me ... even tough wouldn't change a thing ... I wonder: What if.

It's time I stop the bullshit and answer the only question that makes a lick of sense: What if I actually dealt with this in the here and now?

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.

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!)

Only me?

Remember my first love? The one who told me I would always be his first love and that he will always love me and wanted my blessing to ask his boyfriend's hand in marriage?

Yuh, him.

So, we're still cool and I see him FB-ing about his engagement ceremony and keeping the list small, etc. And so, whatever, right?

He IM's me asking, "If I invite you to the engagement party, would you come?"

"Yes, I would. But aren't you paring down the list?"

"Stop it! You're my first love - what's more significant than that?"

So, I'm seriously baffled ... because that wouldn't be *MY* line of thinking as I embark on a forever journey with my man. But, ok - whatever.

He tells me to bring a date, though. I kid and say I would bring my female BFF from college (who almost broke us up) and he laughs, but insists that I bring me a dude.

"If I'm seeing someone then, ok - but if not, I'm rollin' dolo! (I just aged myself there, didn't I?)

And to make this short ... he mentions that I should have someone on my arm because last time he saw me it wasn't easy to keep his hands off of me.

I mention that I noticed it when we were saying goodbye ... that he struggled with not KISSING me goodbye.

He admits that that's true ... but that his "DICK said SLEEP WITH HIM!"

So goes this life of mine - the ones I want don't want me and the ones that I want nothing to do with (on account of being ICK or being taken) are the ones that tell me this shit. Why the fuck can't an intelligent, single man without hang-ups ever come on to me?

(You're free to comment about how ready my ex is to get into this marriage)

How do I make it stop?

I'm picky. I'm so fucking picky, it's unreal. I have this perfect man for me designed in my head and I always juxtapose reality against that fictitious being that only my mind's eye can see. And this perfect man for me? I considered going into detail, describing him for you ... but, really - it's pointless. He's made up and I'm not an author creating a novel for the world to enjoy ... it's a character that doesn't need to be drawn up with the letters of the alphabet ... he just needs to fall back into the non-existent space he resided in before I conjured him up.

Because, people, he's a problem for me. In the time since my divorce, I have managed to be genuinely interested in 3 men. Interestingly enough, they are so very different from each other ... each making up his own distinct 85% of the perfect, fictitious perfect man in my head.

The first? I opined for him for far too long. It was a long distance thing. We met online and time after time he would avoid meeting in person. He was the real-life version of my fictional man because he too would refuse to materialize in the flesh. That hurt me - and it took me a long time to finally let go.

The second? He couldn't commit - and although we met in person, the relationship never materialized ... and in fact, he got spooked and completely cut me off. That hurt me - and it took me a long time to finally let go.

The third? He's just flat out not interested.

I'm realizing that I need to stop using this made up perfect person as the yardstick with which to measure the value of potential mate. I've managed to turn away more than twice as many suitors, genuinely interested in me, but possessing little to none of the qualities of the dude in my head. Let's name him. Let's call him Peter.

I'm going to need to crucify Peter ...even if he requests to nailed upside down. He just has to go. But nails have proven ineffective at piercing fake hands and fake feet. I have no idea how to get rid of him. No idea.

You too?!?

Remember my last post? There must be something in the air. Maybe it's the onset of summer. While I do find myself thinking about a relationship a lot nowadays, it's been that way for about six months now. But within the last three weeks, three dudes have said they're looking and are ready or are lonely and want it ... or miss it and want it.

Is this what summer does? It's new to me because up until this point summer just meant I had to wait longer until night fall to go and get some NSA dick. Hmmmm - it's a whole new world as a grown up.

(i don't think i like it)

Freeing me, Freeing him

On the heels of my last post about Emotional IQ, I write about my emotions. Did I tell you that earlier this month my first wrote me an email to tell about about how much he would ALWAYS love me and that he was going to ask his boyfriend to marry him?

(I don't make this shit up - the ridiculousness of it is just about right for the shit I deal with)

He wrote: I did promise myself years ago that I would make love last next time. I think I truly can this time. But I couldn't in good conscience tell [my boyfriend] how special he is to me without telling the first man to fill and break my heart that I will spend my years and death loving him too.

My roommate came into my room the night I read this in Chicago ... I don't even remember what he wanted. But whatever my grunt of a response was, he said, "are you ok?"

I was processing the whole of his email - I mean, we revisited this thing already and I don't want to spend the rest of my life reliving this shit. I don't want to live in the past. We were young, we were stupid .. and now we're 700 miles apart and I didn't really find him at all attractive when I saw him last year (after 12 years of pining for him!) and realizing that he was wanting my blessing to move on was a bit heavy on me.

So, I mustered all the grown-man I had in me and responded:

I am so glad you are where you are, that you can more than entertain the notion of a lifelong love ... that you are actually embarking on that journey. I do understand that no one else could ever be first, but I'm sure [your boyfriend] is better in every way ... more recent, more close, more there - and loving me pales in comparison with being IN love, in every way. Go, with my blessing, and be the best husband you can be.

Tonight he changed his FB status to "engaged." His boyfriend has said yes ... and deep down inside I'm happy for him. I really, truly am. On the surface, however, it stings slightly that he never, EVER responded to my email ... and I feel used. Like, he read my response - got from it the green light that he wanted and I didn't even get a thank you.

So, here I am, ready to let it go with two simple words:

You're Welcome.

Emotional IQ

I must admit that my emotional intelligence quotient had lagged behind the rest of me by at least a decade. I remember college well, in that I spent a LOT of time crying and moping and letting everything fester. When I lost my first love, I hit the lowest low I thought possible. I opined for many years. MANY.

And then there was my divorce - I was riddled with Christian guilt, couldn't figure out how to get out of a marriage I didn't want but that God wouldn't let me out of ... couldn't figure out how to enjoy my sexuality without making Jesus cry ... so instead, I had a melt down.

Suicidal ideations began at that time and I caught myself (Mainly because I just don't want to die!) and had to figure out how to get it all together. I was bluntly honest about things at that time and I was able to get through it. I bottled in a lot of issues and let it all out that one day when I had a nervous breakdown of sorts ... my then-wife took me to the stress center and I ended up seeing a counselor for some time thereafter to get it all situated and get my head on straight.

Funny, though, that I didn't realize how far I'd come with regard to my emotional IQ. Over the past 6 months I've been dealing with feelings for two very different people ... feelings that I had decided a while ago were just completely misplaced. So, I said nothing. I dealt with it in that very same way I learned how to from my counselor from back in the day (it's been YEARS since I've seen him and his shit STILL works!).

Recently there was one little small issue I needed resolved, and it's done. I got what I needed and after one day of feeling bad about it, I'm good to go.

No tears - no whining ... no nothing. Just a clear head, a sound mind and a newfound realization about how much I love me, how much I can handle and how far I've come in determining what's important to stress over and what is simply not an issue.

... of course, my kids are with they momma in Orlando and I thought I was going to have a heart attack that morning knowing they were surrounded by aircraft grade aluminum shooting through the sky without me. I don't care what ANYBODY says ... I'll always be an emotional wreck when it comes to them. I so love my babies.

Did I actually grow up? Wow. 21 weeks without a cig, 5+ months without sex ... I've taken up running (half marathon in September!) ... and I'm growed up? Who knew!

Unrequited Like, The Haunting Past and A dog.

I have had my full of emotions for the time being. I've been holding in too much shit and I just about had me an anxiety attack last night for trying to be all things to all people, trying to do too much again ... trying to do it all, bare it all and say nothing .

You know, I do know better. And it's been a conscious effort on my part to put on a strong front. I suppose my mini meltdown was inevitable. I can at least say that it didn't drive me to drink or smoke - instead, I focused on the things I could change and I changed them. I think maybe I *am* gettin' my grown man on.

Unrequited Like
There's no harm in liking someone for who they are, and I admit that I've had me my own little crush for a while now. I'm sure he knows and I'm sure I don't care that he does. I'm not ridiculous about it and I'm quite clear that the sentiment is no reciprocated. My problem is that I've entertained it for way too long in my head and didn't realize how much until there were several days in a row I woke up with him on my mind. Laying in bed there about the fourth or fifth day of this happening, I thought - What the fuck am I doing? And then I resolved to make some changes. Since I made that decision, there have indeed been consecutive days without him on my mind first thing in the morning. So, some progress.

The Haunting Past
My first love ends up sending me a message on facebook. I didn't realize what I was in for when I opened it, but it was a rehashing of his feelings for me, feelings that are some 13 years old now, and I wasn't ready for that. I really wasn't. I was a mess after reading it - because, look, he and I finally got back in touch a year ago to find out that we opined for each other for years and years and never knew it. I loved him - loved him HARD and he'll always be my "first." But did he really need to email me that he will "always, ALWAYS" love me? That I will always be his first love? That he needed me to know that before he asked his boyfriend to marry him?

Seriously - it was a bit of a dramatic, gay, Gemini mess.

(that upset me and left me to cry myself to sleep that night - but you didn't hear that from me)

Financial Messiness
I sorta forgot to carry over an uncashed check from March into my May financial register. It was my IRS check for over $1,000.00. Clearly, I've been in lala land. It came on through the bank like a bull in a china shop. And what bounces? My rent check to my roommate.

I had the money in another account, though, so I handed him the cash as soon as he told me it bounced. I swear to God that was stressful. My mind's just not been right, you see.

The dog
My roommate and I agreed that I would take his dog to Indianapolis and if the dog adjusted, then I would keep him. Except, it was a bad idea. As soon as we got here last night, the dog went ape shit. Oh, did I mention he's a pit bull and my mother-in-law (my roommate here in Indianapolis) has a poodle?

Clearly, not well planned nor well timed. I should have invited my roommate down with the dog for several visits before I brought the dog down here alone. Fucking pit bull jumped on every bed n the house, was up on the kitchen counter and was trying to stomp on the poodle ...

I thought I was going to stroke out right there.

I took the dog back this morning - napped for 2 hours and drove back to Indy. So last night, I drove to Indy from Chicago - this morning drove BACK to Chicago and this afternoon came BACK to Indy.

Smooth waters
I came back to my kids - who missed me as I've missed them. My son seemed down.
"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I missed you"

"I missed you too. SO much," I said and I held him for a little bit.

My daughter walked in the house and said, "I *so* missed this house!"

And then I realized that everything was going to be ok. The dog is gone, I gave my first love my blessing to go get married, I'm working on getting over liking the dude who clearly doesn't care that I exist romantically, my checkbook is balanced again ... and my kids' faces have calmed the anxiety within me that I was sure was to kill me last night.

I love the SHIT out my kids. I don't know what I would do if I wasn't a daddy.