Last evening, I had an odd conversation with Tall Dark Ex (TDE). He wanted me to come over. Just to lie beside him. In exchange, he’d give me anything I wanted. When I didn’t jump at it, he upped the prize. After 54 minutes of slight begging, reasoning, etc., he gave up. Should I take a trip to wherever on him? Is it considered whoring if there’s no sex?
Sometimes when I’ve had too much to drink of I’m too lazy to drive all the way home, or when I’m in the area, TDE feels it and calls me. If he doesn’t, I call him. Friday was the same. TDE called and I made my way to his home. He’s my Mandarin Hotel. Our relationship wasn’t a good one, spanning off and on for nearly ten years.
TDE puts fresh towels out, pulls back the comforter in my room, TDE’s guest room. This has been the way since he got this house. Four years ago.
I changed into his shirt to sleep in . It never occurred to me that he was standing there. We watched TV. He educated me on the history of hip-hop and his sincere disdain for any MTV or VH1 countdown that boasts all time bests. Just like visiting an old friend but as adults, not a slumber party. He slept in his room. I slept in mine, his guestroom.
In the morning, he knocked on the door. I showered as he yawned. He showered as I brushed my teeth. Like children, it was. TDE got out of the shower in front of me. I noted and wondered, “Was he always that big?” That long? That tall?”
It’s been like this, sleeping over for years. No sex, no sexual innuendo, nothing!
My senior year of undergrad I went home for Christmas break. TDE would call all the time. Finally Christmas came and I showed my mother his picture. “He’s so…I don’t know…Where’s he from? Don’t go having any babies with that one.”
She has a sixth sense because he wanted babies—right then! I didn’t!
Wednesday is TDE’s birthday. We spoke last night. Wanted to see if he wanted to go out for his birthday. I don’t ever recall him being the celebrating type. But he’s getting on in age so maybe he was ready to celebrate his age with food and drink.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Troubles
Mingaling wonders: can we just date men without having them drive us crazy, life-partner material or not?
No! It can't happen. I've tried it the other way. I had flip-charts, dry-erase markers, and mathematical formulas. It can't be done. Why? Why can't we just date and coast along with no troubles, mind-numbing questions, and what-if's? We are women. It's what we do. We think through situations thouroghly. Most times coming to incorrect conclusions. Conclusions based on our logic, the way our team (the PINK team) operates. We discuss. We sit in "round table" discussion with our girlfreinds over-pontificating about what exactly he meant when he said, "Yeah, those are nice shoes." What did he mean? He meant, the shoes are nice. Simple.
If we didn't what else would we do right before we went to bed? Dream about black dicks? No, We have to think. We have to think about what we're going to eat for breakfast tomarrow, what we're going to wear, did we pay our cell phone bill, did we let the dog out, the cat in, is the iron off, what was that noise... You get my drift.
If we didn't think so much, men wouldn't drive us crazy. But we can't stop the thoughts. Don't think because we busy ourselves with bettering ourselves, we won't find time to obsess over men and all the other things I listed above. And come on, isn't obsessing over Mr. Wonderful, Mr. Not-As-Wonderful-As-He-Used-To-Be, and Mr. WTF-Was-I-Thinking kind of fun?
No! It can't happen. I've tried it the other way. I had flip-charts, dry-erase markers, and mathematical formulas. It can't be done. Why? Why can't we just date and coast along with no troubles, mind-numbing questions, and what-if's? We are women. It's what we do. We think through situations thouroghly. Most times coming to incorrect conclusions. Conclusions based on our logic, the way our team (the PINK team) operates. We discuss. We sit in "round table" discussion with our girlfreinds over-pontificating about what exactly he meant when he said, "Yeah, those are nice shoes." What did he mean? He meant, the shoes are nice. Simple.
If we didn't what else would we do right before we went to bed? Dream about black dicks? No, We have to think. We have to think about what we're going to eat for breakfast tomarrow, what we're going to wear, did we pay our cell phone bill, did we let the dog out, the cat in, is the iron off, what was that noise... You get my drift.
If we didn't think so much, men wouldn't drive us crazy. But we can't stop the thoughts. Don't think because we busy ourselves with bettering ourselves, we won't find time to obsess over men and all the other things I listed above. And come on, isn't obsessing over Mr. Wonderful, Mr. Not-As-Wonderful-As-He-Used-To-Be, and Mr. WTF-Was-I-Thinking kind of fun?
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