Recently in Relationships Category

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This is one of my favorite poems so I decided to repost it. How many times have we let someone get away with treating us not as good as we deserve to be just because they look good or we think that we're not on their level and are in a sense grateful for being in their presence, as though we aren't good enough. It doesn't even have to be looks that make you stay, it could be about the way he makes you feel or the sex or a combination of the three. What's even worse is when we know it's true and we try to rationalize the shit.

Enjoy.

Originally posted on November 10, 2007 11:12 AM
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If He Was Ugly
by Adam Benjamin Irby

If he was ugly...
Would you let him do the things he do?
Would you let him say what he say to you?
Or act the way he acted,
If you weren't so attracted.
And forgive so automatic.
And live life so tragic.
The longing for better days, you trade,
Your sense, you're like an addict.
Why's he such a prize,
Just a sight for sore eyes.
Telling yourself lies,
Under the guise of compromise.
Disdain in your brain,
Numb like Novocaine.
You fold in your pain, like a collar stain,
On a white collared Polo rugby.
Would you treat him so lovely,
If you didn't think you were so ugly?

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Playing In The Background...
"Why You Gotta Look So Good?" feat. Lloyd Banks
by Mya
from the album "Moodring"
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The other night I had some of the best sex of my life. His body was so tight, the way his smooth chocolate skin stretched across his muscles. His lips were some of the softest I'd ever felt, I could kiss him all day. It felt so warm and soft and juicy inside him, the way he moaned and called me "Daddy" and took the dick so well and moved in all the right ways. His legs wrapped around me with me all the way inside of him, holding him, squeezing him, kissing him passionately as sweat lubricated our bodies, he felt like it was made just for me. A few times out of full unadulterated passion that he told me that he loved me. It wasn't just sex, we made love. It was perfect... Well, except for the fact that we'd just met and one of the main reasons why he called me "Daddy" was because I never got around to telling him my name and on top of that he's not my type and we'd never actually work outside the bedroom. Have you ever found yourself having the right sex with the wrong person?

It's crazy. I mean yeah, so, I'm gay. I'm gay and I'm a full top and most of my friends are bottoms. So yes, obviously a good portion of my friendships are birthed from failed relationships or something sexual in nature. And in my life, this life, the gay life I value my friendships more than anything and I try my best not to cross that line and put our friendship in jeopardy. Even so, every so often I may have a friend who develops more than friendly feelings for me. Most would ask why I wouldn't just get with one of my friends, they're already someone who I know and get along with, and can fulfill my emotional, intellectual and social needs but see here's the thing, yes one of my friends could be the right person, but the sex is or would be wrong. Because either, I'm not attracted to the friend that way or we may have had involvement before that didn't work out or develop into anything partly because the sex wasn't right then. Have you ever found yourself having the wrong sex with the right person?

I can think of people that I can get with today who I can really be happy with. We can hang out and chill and I know I'd get all the love and support I need and they would be a good boyfriend. somebody who I can build something with but I'm not physically attracted to them. What's a nigga to do? I don't wanna play with someone's emotions and string them along because as good as all the non-physical aspects of a relationship can be I know I need sex. Sex is important to me and if I'm not being fulfilled I know I'm gonna stray. But then again I can have the hottest sex in the world with someone else and then that's all though, we don't get along outside the bedroom, our dreams and goals and outlook on life don't align. What gives? Where is the balance? Where is they guy who has it all or at least most of it? I don't wanna settle, but I don't wanna be old and alone. I know I'm only 25, but I think about this kinda stuff because this is how it starts. You say, oh I'm only 25 I don't have to worry about that, then you're 30, 35, 40, 45 and before you know it you're that 50 year old guy at the club that all the 25 year olds make fun of, or even worse that 50 year old guy on BGC or A4A that all the 25 year olds make fun of. Perish the thought.

What y'all think? Am I trippin?

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Playing In The Background...
"Till The End Of The World"
by Michelle Williams
from the album "Unexpected"
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I wrote this blog post not to long ago about how it seems that lately all the guys that rejected me and played me seemed to all be crawling back all of a sudden. Well, like everything else in life this theory works both ways.

I met this guy online two years ago around Christmastime, let's call him Thomas. He was fine as hell, my type too, petite, pretty face, slim body and a phat ass. He even let me beat on the first date (which unlike a lot of guys is something I like and makes me want the dude more, especially if I'm into him). Things seemed to be perfect, until he told me that he was only in New York for a few weeks and was going back to school. I tried to squeeze in as much time as I could with him while he was here but he kept breaking dates. I HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE THAT! I liked him but at that point I became disinterested and as the time loomed for him to go back to school and I knew much better than to try to even attempt a long distance relationship even though that seemed like what he wanted to do. So like a true faggot I just stopped calling him and I stopped answering his many phone calls.

That next summer, school was out again and I'd see him around the neighborhood. He was still fine as hell and as much as I wanted to talk to him I avoided him like the plague. Whenever I saw him coming toward me I'd look away or if I saw him walking in front of me I'd slow my pace down as not to pass him. After seeing him again I felt really foolish about what I'd done, but I guess not foolish enough to stop being a pussy and go up to him to rectify things. I was in a relationship at that time so it wasn't even about trying to get back with him, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I needed to apologize, especially since I hate it so much when dudes do that kinda shit to me. The better part of me knew that that was the right thing to do but I let the worst part of me rationalize my way out of it. I mean like, what if he would he would have gotten mad or even worse didn't even remember me anymore? So I remained a coward all that summer.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I saw him at an out-of-town even I attended with friends. It was one of those meetings where you're walking, talking looking in one direction and your friend says "Hey, Adam this is so-and-so..." and without having time to brace yourself, you look over and there he is, was, Thomas. Awkward pause, detached half hug, awkward salutations exchanged and then you move on. During the course of that day and due to the fact that we were trapped at the same event we exchanged a few more words. I braced myself for the question of "Adam, why did you stop calling me?" as though it were the French Revolution and I was waiting for the ax to fall. My fear wasn't so much the question, but that I, the blogger, the writer, the person who always has something to say would have absolutely nothing to say to answer this question. It was stupid, there was no reason for me to just up and stop calling him the way I did. I could have just been a man and told him how I felt. And now he looks good, really good and he's probably not even at that school anymore and maybe if I'd played my cards right we could have rekindled something. I was horny as hell that weekend too and I surely wouldn't have minded him kindling my log.

Fast forward to Sunday, June 29th, 2008, NYC Pride. I ran into Thomas on the corner of West 4th Street & 6th Avenue right by Washington Mutual Bank. Thomas was on his phone. I scribbled my phone number on one of my birthday flyers we were passing out that night and motioned for him to call me as I continued up the street. 'Dammit! I shoulda got his number!' I thought as I walked away. A part of me wanted to go back down the block but then I would have looked real stupid and thirsty so I went on.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. One night as I was on my way downtown to do some promotion at a club for my birthday party I ran into Thomas on the subway platform. We exchanged salutations and a few moments of small talk as the train approached the station. Unfortunately, we'd only be riding this train together one stop so I didn't really see it befitting to give my sorrowful apology right then. Before he got off the train I got his number but it didn't mean too much because he had just lost his phone. Damn.

That next week I was walking up the street approaching a club where I was going to do some more promotion that night when right outside I run into Thomas. He was talking on a cell phone which I later found out wasn't his, he was just borrowing it for the evening. The conversation seemed serious, like a family matter or something. He acknowledged my presence as he stood there talking on the phone in one ear and his finger in another. So I walked away from him, going to converse with friends. A few minutes later I looked over in his direction and he was gone.

Later that night inside the club. I looked over to the bar at one of the go-go boys. He had a slim, petite, bangin' ass body covered by only on a white jock strap that hugged his ass just right. I wouldn't usually be into jock straps as they remind me of bad 70's black and white porno movies but it worked for him. I was getting hypnotized as he shook, grinded, and writhed to the music. The go-go boy turned around and I saw that it was Thomas. Oh shit. I didn't see him again for the rest of the night.

To be continued...

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Playing In The Background...
"If I Could"
by Dru Hill
from the album "Dru World Order"
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Obviously, we all know that as the song says "breakin' up is hard to do" but as a person who's no stranger to bad breakups I've found that music is definitely something that has kept me together through the toughest of relationship times. More experienced readers of the blog will notice that many of these breakup songs listed below have been put as "Playing In The Background..." to a lot of my breakup related blog posts. This particular post though was inspired by my conversations with two friends over the past week about relationship woes, breaking up, and finally getting over it, those conversations quickly turned toward what music they were listening to. You will see that all the songs I've listed are sung by straight women. Like straight women, as a homo I deal with men and all of their bullshit as well so we can definitely relate.

Below I have compiled my top 25 breakup songs, all of which have helped me a time or two, or eighteen. These songs have been the soundtrack of many a lonely sad night in my life. The songs listed here are fairly new, most released within the past ten years or so. I've included all of their info, name of the song, artist, and album so you can go buy (or download) these songs and listen to them for yourself.

This list changes all the time as new songs come out and as new breakups happen. I'm sure that there will be selections that you will know and relate to on the list, others you may not agree with and may want to add to or subtract from the list. Just like every person, every breakup is different so please feel free to leave your breakup music suggestions in the comments section by clicking on the "comments" link at the end of this blog post.

Here we go:

#25
"I Ain't Trippin'"
by Cherish
from the album "The Truth"
The song's message:
Cherish sees their man with another girl and they're cool with it because their all broken up and over it. It's all good homie.
Sample lyric:
"I ain't even trippin (trippin)/And I ain't even mad/Cause me and you been over which means that I been over you..."
My comments:
I think every breakup should start with an uptempo number.

#24
"Losing U"
by Amerie
from the album "Because I Love It"
The song's message:
Amerie's ex is triflin' and he's just no good. She's over it and even though he wants to come back she won't let him because she realizes that him being out of her life is the best thing for her.
Sample lyric:
"Na na na/Na na na/Na na na/Na na na/Losing you was so easy to do/Na na na/Na na na/Na na na/Na na na/Losing you was the best thing to happen to me..."
My comments:
Even if your ex totally dumped you, isn't begging to come back and probably isn't even thinking about your ass the song is still nice to sing along to.

#23
"A Better Man"
by Toni Braxton
from the album "More Than A Woman"
The song's message:
Like Amerie's ex, Toni's ex is triflin' as well and she realizes that after all of his mistreatment that she has to let him go because there simply has got to be a better man for her.
Sample lyric:
"...I've got to get used to not having you around/God gave me the strength/And the courage I need/To move forward with my life/I have to let it be/But it's OK/I Understand/You've got to leave/I won't cry no more/Baby what for?/You don't shed a tear for me..."
My comments:
AMEN Toni AMEN! There just simply has to be a better man for you!

#22
"Your Gonna Miss"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
The song's message:
Ashanti is upset over the breakup from her ex and even though there is a part of her that wants him back she realizes that she needs to move on but she also knows that he's gonna miss her anyway.
Sample Lyrics:
"It's killin' me to think that you don't want it no more/I shoulda learned my lesson when you f*cked before/You said some things/I said some things/Seems like this thing is over/Cuz you ain't called since you been gone/But I ain't gonna stress about it anymore/And I ain't gonna cry another night alone..."
"I can't help but think that when your love is gone/Although I find it hard to keep myself from holding on/And when I try to justify what you did wrong/It's like I'm constantly reminded that I can't move on..."
My comments:
This song MUST ALWAYS be listened to with the next song on the list.

#21
"So Over You"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
The song's message:
Ashanti went through a hard breakup with her ex man after which she was trippin' for minute, home crying and shit, but now she's over it.
Sample lyrics:
"Said I'm finished with it/Ain't no more hurtin' over here/I done lost my cool for just a minute/But I'm back and I'm doin my thing again..."
"I've had enough/Boy I swear this time I'm done/You can pack up all your stuff/Frankly I don't give a f*ck/I'm so over you..."
"I got my swagga back again/And no, I'm not tryna be your friend/And no, ain't no hittin' this again..."
My comments:
Listen to this song over and over again until you believe it!

#20
"Should Have Known"
by Robyn
from the album "Robyn"
The songs message:
Robyn is mad at herself because her ex played her and she knew that he was no good from the start.
Sample lyrics:
"Should have seen it comin'/I shoulda f*ckin' known/How could I let you play me?/I don't even know..."
"...And then you blamed it all on me/I should have known that's what liars always try to do/It wasn't me it was you/You're the fool..."
My comments:
Did me and Robyn date the same guy?

#19
"Be Ok" feat. Will.i.am
by Chrisette Michele
from the album "I Am"
The song's message:
Chrisette decided to be okay even though her and her ex broke it off and he's with someone else.
Sample lyric:
"I'ma take my Lexus to the mall/Get a little black dress just because/Me and my boo just broke it off/I'ma be fly although he's gone..."
My comments:
I'ma take the bus to 125th street and buy a little navy blue Yankee fitted. Whichever mode of transport you take me, you and and Chrisette are gonna be ok.

#18
"Fool 4 You"
by Cherish
from the album "Unappreciated"
The song's message:
Cherish's man has messed up one too many times, cheating on them with all kids of women, buying all kinds of jewelry and shit. They're over it and decided to never be fools no more.
Sample lyric:
"...Cause I ain't no fool for you no more/Won't be no fool for you no more/I ain't no fool for you no more/I ain't no fool for you no more...."
My comments:
Just close your eyes and let this classical sounding piece wash over you. I've put this one on repeat MANY times. Even if he didn't cheat we've all been fools for someone in some way. Trust me if you've ever been a fool in any way you can relate.

#17
"No Fool No More"
by EnVogue
from the album "Best Of EnVogue"
The song's message:
After all of the tears and the pain EnVogue finally realizes that things need to change. They "see through his lies" and are "finally wise" and are really leaving this time.
Sample lyrics:
"No room for sad regrets/Cause the past is done and gone/And I've learned that it's time that makes you wise/And truth that makes you strong..."
"...Gonna pull my heart together/Gonna leave the past behind/Gonna get to somethin' better/Put you out of my mind/I'm gonna be strong/I'm gonna be fine/I just want you to know/That I'm not gonna be no fool no more/No fool no more/Not like before/Not the way it used to be/No fool no more..."
My comments:
I've cried many a tear to this one. one of my favorite EnVogue songs ever.

#16
"Gotta Get My Heart Back"
by Keyshia Cole
from the album "Just Like You"
The song's message:
Keyshia realizes that she has fallen way to hard for a guy that obviously doesn't feel for her the same way and has to get her heart back to the way it was before she fell for this guy
Sample lyric:
"I know where I/Went wrong when I/Loved you more then I loved myself/I would have done anything for you/Aye, aye, aye, aye/And I learned when I/Realized you didn't love/Me the way that I loved you but now I know./It's hurts inside..."
My comments:
Ever loved someone way more than they loved you and finally realized that you're crazy and that something must be done? This is the song for you.

#15
"Melt My Heart To Stone"
by Adele
from the album "19"
The song's message:
Adele is dealing with this guy who is playing games with her emotions, stringing her along and hurting her feelings. At the end of it all she realizes that she's the only one in love. Damn.
Sample lyric:
"As you tear your way right through me/I forgive you once again/Without me knowing/You've burnt my heart to stone/And I hear your words/That I made up/You say my name/Like there could be an us/I best tidy up my head/I'm the only one in love/I'm the only one in love..."
My comments:
This acoustic ditty is the shortest and the saddest of the list. You ARE NOT to listen to this song under the influence of alcohol or drugs and don't put it on repeat more than three times. I wouldn't want you to do anything stupid.

#14
"Stepping Stone"
by Duffy
from the album "Rockferry"
The song's message:
Duffy tells her ex that she will never be his "stepping stone", his part time lover. That he can't pick her up and put her down anymore.
Sample lyric:
"You got your kicks/You get your kicks from playing me/And the less you give the more I want so foolishly..."
My comments:
You breaking up with the guy that keeps picking you up and putting you down when he feels like it? This is the song for you.

#13
"No Sittin' By The Phone"
by Vivian Green
from the album "A Love Story"
The song's message:
My girl Viv realizes that her ex is gone and that his ass ain't coming back. She also realizes that he was no good anyway and that it's for the best and decides to move on with her life.
Sample lyric:
"We used to sit over there/That was your favorite chair/But now I sit here alone/No use crying bout it/I'll have to do without it/And no I won't sit by the phone/It's not like you did me right/I was just comfortable and used to you/Now I see, I must first love me/And maybe Mr. Right will come strolling along..."
My comments:
Lyrically, one of the best songs on here. This jazzy number captures the essence of the breaking up and moving on process.

#12
"If"
by Destiny's Child
from the album "Destiny Fulfilled"
The song's message:
The girls realize that their man is no good and they had to go, he was "playing around with them raggedy heifers" and all and they weren't having it. Even though they are alone now they are comforted by the fact that they were true and gave their all when they were in the relationship and that he's gonna miss them.
Sample lyric:
"If you don't know/Now you know you're gonna miss/My love/And I ain't stressing 'bout a doggone thang/Cause I was true when I gave you/My love/If you search you will never find another love like/My love/You’re gonna miss me/I ain’t got time while you sit around and play with my/My love..."
My comments:
You know you're much better than that ragged heifer he's playing with nowadays anyway! Fuck him!

#11
"Be Mine!"
by Robyn
from the album "Robyn"
The song's message:
Robyn was in love with a guy who never really was truly hers and he never will be hers. She's all in love with him and he keeps telling her 'Robyn, girl I don't want you', but she still longs for him. After a while she finally realizes that it just ain't gonna happen.
Sample Lyrics:
"For the first time, there's no mercy in your eyes/And the cold wind is hitting my face and you're gone/And you're walking away/And I am helpless sometimes/Wishing's just no good/Cause you don't see me like I wish you would/Cause you never were, and you never will be mine/No, you never were, and you never will be mine..."
My comments:
On the album this song is pretty upbeat, so much so that you may miss the sadness of the lyrics. If you want something a little better to cry to search the internet for the live, slower, sadder AOL Sessions version of this song it's a rival to #15.

Stay tuned for the top 10...

What song do you predict will be number 1?

What's your number 1?

Let me know in the "comments" section below this post.

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Playing In The Background...
"Breaking Up Is Hard To Do"
by Neil Sedaka
from the album "Neil Sedaka, The Definitive Collection"
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So I'm at a thing last night, a social thing. I seem to always find myself at some kind of thing or another, especially since I'm promoting my party and all now. It's a gay thing, guys are there, they're flirting with me, some more obviously than others as I work the room, flyers in hand. I'm nice, I smile. I won't flat out tell someone that I'm not interested unless they're just like really offensive, like that guy who touched my ass at Ultra the other night. I almost went the fuck off, y'all know I don't get down like that. You see why I don't wear dress pants. Anyway, as I socialized that night I began to think about all the guys that try to get at me on a daily basis whether it be at an event, or online, through here or whatever and how I'm just not into them for the most part. Why is it that I don't attract what I want? And then when I go out to get what I'm attracted to that doesn't seem to work out either.

Dating sucks. I hate meeting new people. I hate having to tell them the same stories, the same jokes, the same anecdotes, laughing the same laughs, sharing my idiosyncrasies over and over again and having to memorize theirs all for them to just up and stop calling or for things to fall apart in a few weeks time. Those people who rejoice in being single, I don't get it. I like the idea of having someone to take care of and depend on. I want someone to want to know my whereabouts and someone to spend a considerable amount of my time with. I want to build a life with someone, to have our individual lives braided together into one. Even in my more promiscuous days I never really believed in the whole "ain't no pussy like new pussy" thing. 'Cuz when the lights go out it really doesn't feel much different one from another. It's the feelings you have (or don't have) for the person that makes it differ. Like I said before as I getting older I'm getting more and more like my Dad, just a simple, no frills guy and I tend to be looking for someone more like my Mom, beautiful and feisty, who likes to dress me. I guess the right one will come along some day. I've dated a few people in the last few months but it's been like "anh whatever..."

Honestly, the main reason for my dating apathy as of late is that I wasn't fully over Pubby. Oh Jesus, I feel like such an idiot saying that but it's true. I didn't tell y'all this, but somewhere during those weeks that I didn't blog as frequently as I normally there was a relapse. We tried it again, what was that, number five? I've never been the make-up to break-up type until now. It was like, just at the moment that I thought I was finally good. I stopped the begging and pleading. I let go any hope of us in the future. Just when I was angry enough at him for hurting me again and strong enough in myself to move on he called. He sounded so weak and so small, like he needed me and I caved in. Of course it didn't work out. unless he was a totally different person I pretty much knew it wouldn't. The reason why I didn't say anything to y'all is because, frankly I was embarrassed. Trust me, I'm hardly deluded about this sorta thing. I fully realize that going back to something for the fifth time that has failed all four previous times is stupid and destined to fail again, but I walked back into again anyway. Why?

I look at my relationship with Pubby like a drug addiction. It's like doing "coke" (cocaine) or "ex" (ecstasy) or "k" (ketamine or "special k") or crack or whatever the kids are doing in the clubs now. You know it's stupid and no good for you and will only lead to your downfall but you indulge in it anyway because it feels good at the time and you think it makes you look cool while clean people look at you like you're a stupid ass druggie and make fun of you behind your back and to your face sometimes, but you're too high to notice. The good days with him, the highs of our relationship were so high and everything was so great, but those bad days with him, when we were arguing, coming down from that shit was the worst. It's like something a drug user once told me about using drugs "no high is better than your first high and every time you use drugs you try to achieve that first high again". Yeah, but you just said that no high is better than your first high and that there's no way you can get that again so why keep trying? You're only killing yourself. Stupid, huh? Exactly. When the rationale behind my participation in a bad relationship became congruent to that of a drug user I knew it was definitely time to take my ass to relationship rehab. I'm not 100% sure exactly what that is yet but I know that that I cannot do anymore. So I quit, cold turkey and this time it feels easier than it's even been before. Whenever I feel weak I'll have to remind myself of how terrible the lows were and how fucked up my future would be if I were to continue this vicious cycle.

Like most recovered drug users who curse the first day they ever messed with their drug of choice sometimes I wish I never met Pubby. If only I could go back and do it all over again, to spare myself all of the drama of the past months. They say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I'll have to respectfully disagree. That whole thing I really didn't need. I can't think of anything I gained from it that was worth all the stress. I guess it is what it is. I don't regret it. I know that everything happens for a reason, but if I'd known then what I know now I wouldn't have let things go down quite the same way. Lesson learned, even though I had to get left back five times.

Another thing about drugs, my lovely readers. I make a lot of jokes here, but I'm really serious about this. If any of you are doing drugs please stop. There is nothing cute or fabulous about it. As of late, being out and about, I've been around drug users and it's really not a game. Even if you feel that your addiction is "manageable", that in itself is an oxymoron, nothing about addiction is manageable. You see it all over TV and magazines all these celebrities and starlets, the so-called "Young Hollywood" sect, your Lindsay Lohan's, your Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's, your Britney Spears' and people like that stumbling in and out of clubs and off to rehab centers. This shit is NOT okay. These people have all kinds of issues inside that have led them to act out in such ways and all the money in the world hasn't been able to heal them. There's nothing healthy about this behavior and the fact that young people across the world try to emulate this shit because they think it's cute is crazy. I sure as hell don't get it. I didn't even think that black folks got down with that drug shit like that besides a little weed here and there (and even that isn't good), boy was I wrong. These kids pop pills and sniff coke like its going out of style. And it's not even a new thing, I just never paid much attention to it before, but it was happening right under my nose (forgive the pun). So if you're in a club and someone offers you a drug please just say no. And if you are currently using drugs don't be afraid to get help. And if you have friends that do drugs get them some help too. The last thing I need is to step over some drugged out queen convulsing on a dance floor somewhere, dying over some perfectly avoidable shit. I thought they left that shit in the 80's.

Crack is wack.

Coke is a joke.

Hugs, not drugs.

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Playing In The Background...
"Rehab"
by Rihanna
from the album "Good Girl, Gone Bad"
and
"Rehab"
by Amy Winehouse
from the album "Back To Black"
and
"Addictive"
by Truth Hurts
from the album "Truthfully Speaking"
and
"Fanatic"
by Vivian Green
from the album "A Love Story"
and
"The Way That I Love You
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"Your Gonna Miss"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"So Over You"
by Ashanti
from the album "The Declaration"
and
"Stepping Stone"
by Duffy
from the album "Rockferry"
"I Wish"
by Carl Thomas
from the album "Emotional"
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"Do, Do you got a first aid kit handy? Do, Do you know how to patch up a wound...

Damaged, damaged
Damaged, damaged
I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is
Damaged, damaged
So Damaged
And you can blame the one before
So how you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it...

Tell me are you up for the challenge
Cause my heart is damaged..."
 -Danity Kane
  from the song "Damaged"

Being single again has really given me some time to think about who I am and why I am the way I am in relationships and why all of my relationships have failed. The thing is, well, I'm an extremely nice person. Not nice to others to the detriment of myself, so much, at least not consciously, but yeah, I'm really nice. I was taught growing up that 'it's nice to be nice".

I grew up with a father who was far from perfect, but a damn good provider for his family. He made sure that we were all taken care of, me, my mother and my siblings, before even thinking about thinking about himself. I remember him giving my mother, a stay at home mom, his whole paycheck every pay period so she could pay all the bills and manage the house while he worked. The only time we'd really set to do something special for him, something tangible, was Father's Day or his birthday. Even then he'd get the same old thing every year, a shirt and a tie or something. But when he received that shirt and tie from us he treated it like it was pure gold, he loved and cherished it and would tell anyone he met who'd listen long enough about what we'd gotten him. More important to him than the yearly trinkets he'd receive from us, my father rejoiced in the fact that we were happy. It made him happy to see us happy. To see his family with the best filled him with pride as a provider, as a father, as a man. That happiness is what pulled him through those days working as hard as he did for forty years before he retired. While I didn't appreciate it nearly as much as a should have as a child, being a man now, typing this paragraph I'm actually holding back tears from my eyes thinking of all his sacrificed for us and never thought anything of it and never wanted any undue praise or fanfare for it. While it seems like such a extraordinary feat in our world of deadbeat dads, downlow brothas, and talk show paternity tests, my dad simply did what a real man is supposed to do.

Growing up, everyone said I looked so much and acted so much like my mother, with her dry, church lady, sanctified sarcasm and fierce one-liners. My mother is the only person I know that can cuss you out without using one cuss word. She can read you in the name of Jesus, say a prayer over you, tip her Sunday-go-to-meeting hat and send you on your way. I thought that a lot of these characteristics carried over into my being gay. But as I get older I'm realizing now with pride that I'm becoming more and more like my father everyday.

Unfortunately, attributes like honor, faithfulness (outside of sexual activity, yes faithful does have more than one meaning), responsibility and just plain being nice aren't much appreciated in the gay community. Our endless pursuit of youth, parties, designer labels, and whatever's or whoever's considered new and fabulous has left such time-honored virtues by the wayside. In my relationships I am much like my dad, minus the fiscal obligations as I've never been married, have no kids and am not taking care of no grown-ass man (Get a job nigga! Oh wow, that was personal, dedicated to all my deadbeat exes, the ones I dated in '05-'06). That fiscal and provider responsibly that my father had to his wife and kids as a straight man translates into emotional responsibility for me as a gay man as I give my all to whoever I'm with and like my dad it makes me happy to see them happy, to put a smile on their face. Like my dad, that's what's most important to me, not necessarily having things for myself. I don't mind sharing my wealth (not necessarily financial wealth) with someone. Unlike most gays I know, I don't like clubs and I was never into labels, now I'm more into saving money than anything else. In a partner I want someone that I can chill and build something with, and give to emotionally, spiritually, physically and financially and have it given back or at the very least appreciated. The more superficial things just don't matter so much to me. Sometimes I feel like yes, of course, I'm obviously gay, but so not gay all at the same time.

As I sat and talked to Pubby last week, he finally acknowledged how much of myself I gave to him when we were together. I gave him, it, us, my all. I loved him with every cell in my body, ever fiber of my being. I broke my back to make that shit work, doing all I possibly could, but I was not getting the love back. Then he said to me that he just wasn't ready for that again yet and that that's why he was so neglectful as far as I was concerned and that he had just come out of something when we first met. etc,. etc,. etc... Then I just kinda tuned out. As much as this was a revelation for him it wasn't for me. I'd heard this all before. Below is the amended version of how my relationships work. I also recommend that you check out the blog post that fully details how my relationships work. Anyway:

I find someone.

I get with them.

I fall for them.

I give my everything.

Everything seems okay.

They start neglecting me.

It drives me crazy.

It hurts my feelings.

I break it off with them.

They don't care because I guess they weren't so into me in the first place.

We have the post break-up closure conversation in which they tell me that they just weren't ready for what I was looking for and that they've just gotten out of something, long term with someone else and there's still feelings and baggage there, yadda, yadda, yadda, etc., etc., etc... I've had this conversation so many times I could finish their sentences at this point. So what is it about me that draws these people to me? I know I sure as hell didn't go out looking for this stream of heartbreak and disappointment that is my romantic life. I'm not trying to be the proverbial "Captain Save-A-Ho" scouting for wounded souls to gentrify into the perfect companion. And who are these people that leave them so heartbroken? They always seems to have given their everything to these deadbeats in long term relationships and got fucked over so bad that there's nothing left for me. Why do I always have to be the rebound dude, the one who has to carry the leftover baggage from the last dude until my arms get tired and I end up dropping the shit? How can I get down with being first? Is this why I've never been in a long term relationship, because I'm always receiving damaged goods? Is it because I'm a nice guy? Is nobody gonna give me love unless I fuck them over too? 'Cuz the nigga that fucks them over, they all go running back to them, leaving me standing there with my open and pure heart, looking like an ass every time. This shit is crazy. When a nigga is obviously fucking me over I leave his ass alone. Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you're getting mistreated? If you find a good man and you know he's a good man, doing all he can for the relationship, trying to make you happy, why would you leave that or neglect that for someone who makes you unhappy. I don't get it.

I mean, dammit Danity Kane! How am I gonna "fix it, fix it, fix it" if they keep going back to the same dude that messed them up in the first place? Maybe I'm just not "up for the challenge" anymore? I'm throwing my "first aid kit" away. I'm tired of playing doctor, I'm closing the practice. All I want is a fair fuckin' shake. I come in fresh and healed up, all my past let go, you come in fresh and healed up, all your past let go and we just do this.

Like I said, unfortunately my values system just doesn't seem to fit in with gay life. In the words of Lil' Kim "Sometimes I feel like I'm from another fuckin' world..." and with my upbringing, way of thinking and values system in comparison to most gay men I know, I guess I am.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Damaged"
by Danity Kane
from the album "Welcome To The Dollhouse"
and
"Custom Made (Give It To You)"
by Lil' Kim
from the album "Notorious K.I.M."
==========

==========
Sorry for this post being so short but I had to sneak it in between the sixty million things I have to do today.
==========

==========
Play this as you read:
"Should Have Known"
by Robyn

==========

I saw the show "Cat On a Hot Tin Roof" on Broadway Wednesday night. I won't give the story away for those who are unfamiliar but seeing the pain that Anika Noni Rose's and Phylicia Rashad's character's were in, loving men who did not love them back, really resonated with me. They lived their lives in a constant state of insecurity and uncomfort, like cats on hot tin roofs. All throughout the play I felt as though they were speaking right to me and I knew what had to be done.

So, yup, it's over. I broke up with Pubby again for the very last time this morning. I've just come to finally realize that no matter how much I did, no matter how much I gave that he's never gonna change. It wasn't an easy decision to make but it as the best one for me. And unlike the previous times I broke with him I don't have anything bad to say about him, because this time it's not about him and how he did me wrong, it's about me and how I've decided to finally do me right. It's not even his fault. I'm the only one with the power to have allowed myself to get that way so it was up to me to free myself. Right now I'm really pissed with myself for repeatedly being so stupid. In the words of Robyn, I shoulda seen this coming, "I shoulda fuckin' known."

There's a lot more I could and probably should have said but that's not freedom. You don't see prisoners released from jail going back and trying to settle scores with the warden and their fellow inmates, they're too busy being free for that. In the words of Beyonce "...what was misunderstood, it's all good, it's all good." There truly is no feeling like being free, when your mind is truly made up and your heart is truly in the right place. No hard feelings, just better thinking from now on.

So if you wanna leave a comment, leave a comment just don't send me no condolences and shit, because I'm okay. And whatever's not okay will all be okay in a little bit of time.

As far as the book is concerned, y'all know I'm currently writing my first book. I had dinner yesterday with James Earl Hardy (author of the black gay fiction classic "B-Boy Blues"). I picked his brain about how to get started as far as the publishing end of the whole book thing is concerned. He's a really cool guy and I learned a lot from him. I'm really honored that he would even take the time to dine with little ol' me, especially with his book being turned into a movie and all now. Thanks James.

Just landed on my own two feet,
Shoulda fuckin' known,
-Adam

==========
Playing In the Background...
"Free"
by Destiny's Child
from the album "Destiny Fulfilled"
and
"Better In Time"
by Leona Lewis
from the album "Spirit"
and
"Should Have Known"
by Robyn
from the album "Robyn"
and
"Be Mine!"
by Robyn
from the album "Robyn"
and
"Mad"
by Vivian Green
from the album "Vivian"
and
"I'm Done"
by Tweet
from the album "It's Me Again"
and
"Single Again"
by Trina
from the album "Still Da Baddest"
==========

"Step by step. Day by day.
A fresh start over. A different hand to play.
The deeper we fall, the stronger we stay
And we'll be better the second time around..."
-from the "Step By Step" TV show theme song

Everything's going great between me and Pubby, we're spending a lot of time together and every day is beautiful. We've talked things out, we've let go of the past and we're concentrating on our future and just plain having a good time. I couldn't ask for anything more. We're making it better the fourth time around, I think this is the fourth time, or is it the third.

Last week Pubby called me, asking me how I felt about sharing joint custody of a dog, having it live between his house and mine, like our child. As you know I have a cat, Keisha, who I've had for about eight years now, but owning a cat as opposed to owning a dog is a horse of another color. My viewpoint on dogs was basically that of the standard cat person. Generally, cat people think dogs are loud, stupid, needy, and have no personality or mind of their own, panting about, eating their own vomit like idiots. As he talked to me, filled with so much passion and excitement at the prospect of getting this dog all I could think about is how much responsibility a dog is. Cats are generally independent, dogs need you. You can't just leave a dog home for a day or two with an extra bowl of food and water like a cat. You have to walk a dog, even if it's freezing cold outside, which it often is here in New York. Even with all of my cautious opposition he was not swayed. So, being the supportive man I am, I agreed to help out with "our baby", hoping we weren't making a huge mistake.

Easter Sunday night we picked up the dog, a Yorkshire terrier puppy by the name of Bella. She was cute but nevertheless a dog. Pubby made sure she was extra cute by buying her all kinds of bows and pink cutesy shit, I'm like dude, she's a dog. He made sure that she had the quote-unquote "best" food, made of all kinds of nasty organic shit, fucking wheat and cranberries and shit. It smelled like death in a paper bag. Bella wouldn't touch the stuff and who could blame her. I tried to tell Pubby that at the end of the day under all the bows and clothes that Bella is an animal, animals like meat and her food should smell like and contain some type of meat, like Keisha's food.

Tuesday was Bella's first night at my place. It was also the first time she was meeting her stepsister Keisha. Let's just say Bella and Keisha aren't best buddies. The stoic nature of an eight year old cat and the playfulness of a puppy her same size don't quite mix. I haven't heard Keisha hiss so much in all her life. It's so much that they're fighting, there's really no contact as they both scare the hell out of each other. Our uniting reminds me of the TV show "Step By Step". I'm like Patrick Duffy's character with the laid back children and Pubby's like Suzanne Somers character with the uptight, prissy children, coming together to make a family.

With all this stuff going on, between me working and Pubby working and us having our animal children, training puppies, petting cats and shit, like true new parents, Pubby and I haven't had much quote-unquote "us" time. Time to, well, you know, have sex. So we decided after putting it off over and over again for the past week, not due to lack of desire, but just plain ol' being tired, that we would finally have sex yesterday morning. So we did and it was great, as usual. Sex with Pubby is always great. I know what he likes and he knows what I like but we also know how to mix it up just right so it's not predictable. We switched positions in the middle of sex so as usual before I went back at it (literally, wink, wink) I slipped on a new condom and quickly disposed of the first one.

After he came we laid on my bed, I on top of him, basking in the post coital glow, in silence, when I heard a chewing sound, like somebody was chewing on a piece of gum. I looked over to the left and saw Bella licking the floor, then turning toward one of the condoms. One of the condoms! Where the fuck is the other condom?

"Babe, I think Bella ate one of the condoms..."

"She what!"

Yes, Bella ate one of the condoms from the floor. Pubby jumped up frantically, calling the vet while on my laptop Googling our little problem. It turns out that this sort of thing is more common than you'd think as he'd found numerous articles, musings and message board postings on the subject. If she were a bigger dog, under usual circumstances we'd just have to wait for the condom to pass through her system, but because she's only a puppy we'd have to induce vomiting. They recommended that we give her two tablespoons of 3% hydrogen peroxide. As soon as I heard the name of the chemical escape from his lips I put on my pants and like a good husband and father made my way out to the nearest Duane Reade Pharmacy. We gave her the peroxide and she lapped it up like it was a vodka and tonic, drinking like a true lush, she must get that trait from her parents. A few minutes later she threw up the condom and a whole bunch of yellow shit, probably mucus. She's fine. I guess we can't fuck like porn stars anymore, carelessly throwing condoms about. Throughout the whole ordeal Keisha was cutting her shady little eyes at all of us. Under her breath I could almost hear her mumbling "Dumb bitch! I wouldn't have done that shit! I've been around for eight years. I know to steer clear when daddy starts throwing condoms!"

All in all. I surprisingly enjoy having a dog. Although she is way needier than Keisha I do enjoy the fact that she enjoys seeing me and gets excited every time I walk into the room. Keisha on the other hand is really loving sometimes and really shady sometimes, whenever she feels like it, but that's what I love about her. She's still Daddy's baby, they both are, they all are.

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Put It In Your Mouth"
by Akinyele
from the album "Put It In Your Mouth - The EP"
==========

==========
Today's Throwback Blog Post:
Did I Ever Tell Y'all The Crack Story...?
Originally posted August 31st, 2007
==========

I've started typing this blog post at almost 4am, early Easter Sunday morning. This seems to be the only time I have to actually sit and blog nowadays, I've been ridiculously busy lately. My head hurts a little, probably from all the wine I drank today, yesterday I should say. I should be asleep right now but I know I haven't really blogged, blogged with y'all in a minute. We haven't talked in a while, me and you, my reading public. I value you guys more than you realize. Remember, if you see me on the street don't be afraid to come up and say "Hi." I realize that we all may not know each other personally, but some of the opinions, advice, and straight up fierce ballroom girl reads that we've shared over the past thirteen months have been more substantial in my life than those I've shared with people I've known for years. Anyway, thanks, keep the cards and letters coming.

Last Easter, Sunday, April 8th, 2007, I wrote a blog post entitled "Companionship. An Idea Resurrected", in which I spilled the beans that I was in a relationship. Oddly enough this Easter I find myself in the same situation, but with a different man, obviously, but for some of you not so different. I'll explain later. Like our Lord Jesus, companionship, a notion I thought was pretty much dead for me again has miraculously managed to rise again. It's Sunday now but I originally started this post last Friday (Good Friday) morning.

=====

I woke up early this Good Friday morning at about 7:30. It's not that I actually wake up that early on the regular, I just had to pee really bad. As I rose from my bed I saw him there asleep, curled up like a little shrimp (I know it's a bad simile, but it's accurate), I smiled. A few moments later when I came back to bed he scooted back into me, we spooned and fell back asleep. Looking at him I thought about all we'd been through to get to this moment and I silently thanked God for it all, the good and the bad. I also thanked God for all that Jesus had gone through on this day, thousands of years ago. A Good Friday indeed.

Last time we talked I was dating Mr. Bojangles, the dancer who was also a virgin, remember him? Well things didn't work out between us. It didn't end badly and he's a great guy, very nice, cute, comes from good stock. He's definitely the quote-unquote "perfect guy" on paper, he's just wasn't perfect for me. And who the fuck was I kidding, me and a virgin, c'mon, it was doomed before it started. Even with all that, sex itself, or in this case the lack thereof wasn't the deal breaking issue for us, well, rather me. Obviously I knew going in that we weren't having sex and I was cool with that, I mean, I guess we'd have sex someday, when we're ready, when he's ready, after a few moths or so, right? But like most twenty-something virgins, Mr. Bojangles seemed to vilify sex, like it was a bad thing and I actually felt uncomfortable talking about sex or being sexual around him. I'm a guy, I'm a sexual guy, I like sex, I talk about sex, I write about sex, I make sexual jokes sometimes, but I couldn't really do that around him. He just seemed so prudent at times. It made me uncomfortable. But even that wasn't the real reason why I broke things off with him. As nice as it was being with him just didn't feel right.

So, being with Mr. Bojangles wasn't right, being with '08 wasn't right, being with Winston wasn't right. As nice as all these guys were and as much as they all genuinely liked me, I broke it off with all of them. Why? I know why, I know exactly why. But I was afraid to say, afraid to write, but I know why. It's because I still have feelings for Pubby. As hard as that was for me to say, as embarrassing and humiliating as it is to say, especially after all the times we'd broken up and gotten back together and all the declarations I made, vowing to never speak to him again after the way he hurt me with his neglect and indecisiveness. I can't help it. I missed him. We had our bad times but when we're together it was great, like we were the only two people in the world, looking into his eyes and him looking in mine. Even after our thing was all over I thought often of him. Little did I know he was still thinking of me too.

//===> SIDE NOTE: If you're new and have no idea who Pubby is. The best way to get into our saga is to read the "Dating" section of the blog from January 9th, 2008 back to September 18th, 2007. he's all in there. I mean you ain't gotta read everything, just give it a liberal skim just to catch yourself up. <===//

It went down like this. Pubby and I had our final knock-down, drag-out argument via email and text message via text and email right before New Years. We said a lot of mean things to each other. That day, December 30th, 2007 I believe, I decided that I didn't wanna take this dysfunctional, one-sided, relationship-like thing we had into a New Year. Although I still had feelings for him, that day was the day those feelings started to fade. As usual, after our breakups he extended the option to me to remain friends and as usual after our breakups I didn't accept it because I figured that the best and fastest way to get him out of my system was to remove him from my life altogether. Besides, I wanted to be his man, not his friend, fuck that shit.

So for a few weeks we didn't talk and reluctantly, I was back on the dating scene, totally unhappy. He went back to his ex. A relationship which he has described as on and off, rocky and tumultuous for a good part of the few years they'd been together. Every so often he would text me and I'd text back. We had textual small talk, so to speak, which would usually end when one of us got bored and stopped the text chain. We even grew to having conversations as friends. Even though I was trying my best to be friendly, I still longed for Pubby. But I fell back because he was back with his ex. No matter how good you are and no matter how much you bring to the table, the one thing you can't fuck with is history, history, experiences and memories. I also figured that the reason why he basically chose his ex over me is because his ex is "that guy", I mean that's what they tell me.

Let me explain who "that guy" is. Pubby and I are total opposites, he likes to party, I like to stay home, he's a socialite, working the crowd, I'm a homebody, who'd rather chill with just me and my people, he wears Gucci, I wear the Gap. People like him and his ex are "that guy" and I'm "the other guy". We're your basic opposites attract story, like "The Odd Couple". He's the Felix Unger to my Oscar Madison. If this were "Sex And the City" I'd be the Aidan Shaw to his Carrie Bradshaw, which is hilarious because people call me "the black gay Carrie Bradshaw". But anyway, he's creme brulee and I'm "granola", as Samantha Jones would say. The thing about me though is that I'm perfectly happy being granola, Gap & Levi's, plain construction Timbs and all white Nikes, mid-priced retail guy. Shit, say what you want about granola, it's not the fanciest food in the world, you probably won't see it in the fancy haute cuisine magazines, but granola is solid, filling and healthy. Once you crack through the hard fancy shell of creme brulee all you're left with is some cheap-ass, glorified Jell-O pudding that will leave you hungry again in an hour.

Though I enjoy it in Pubby, and I think he looks great, I personally have no desire to be high fashion, socialite guy. I don't even like clubs and I can't stand being around all those shady, fake-ass people. It just makes me wanna run to the DJ booth, grab the mic and yell out: "Where all the real niggas at?" But I guess I'm just ghetto that way. I'd rather go out to Applebee's, TGIFridays, or BBQ's or even a nicer restaurant or even just a nice bar and just eat, drink and wild out with my people. Fuck pretenses and cliques and labels and shit, you know how much money those people spend on clothes, it's insane. I have much better ways to spend my hard earned money. Fuck Balenciaga and McQueen and Gucci and all them, I'd much rather have my dude look good naked than with all that label shit on. Who cares? Surprisingly, Pubby actually likes my outlook on things, he calls me practical, he says somebody has to be.

Like I said, Pubby's ex, like him is also "that guy", another creme brulee. I met him once, he seems nice enough, nothing against him, but that life's not for me. I also know that as cute as a secluded moonlight stroll on the granola side of town is for a creme brulee like Pubby, I also live in the real would and in the real world you don't often find creme brulee and granola served at the same restaurant. Jean Georges don't serve no damn granola and Applebees don't know what the a fuck creme brulee is. So where does that leave us? As much as he liked me, would he be truly comfortable having my unabashedly granola ass around his friends in their candy coated creme brulee world is the question. And as much as I liked him how much creme brulee could I stomach is my next question. So that's where we were left December 30th, breaking up for the third time, with him saying that we were incompatible and me telling him to go fuck himself for wasting my time. As time went on I accepted that even though a part of me still wanted him, that we were just too different for it to work and even though there was magic when we were alone, we couldn't lay up in bed forever. We had to face the world sometime.

One afternoon last month Pubby invited me to a friendly, catch up lunch with him. We dined at one of the restaurants inside the Metropolitan Museum Of Art. Since at that point I was technically over Pubby, newly dating Mr. Bojangles, I did something I'd never done. I went to that lunch with Pubby looking a total mess. I had some regular jeans on, my fucked up gray New Balance workout sneakers (I was going to the gym after lunch) and a hoodie that I paid $19.99 for at Modells. I was in need of a haircut and I had my glasses on. He'd never seen me so rough before, since Pubby was so fancy I always felt a need to impress him with my appearance, I mean at least as much as a hunk of granola possibly could. But at that point, his toothbrush was in the garbage and we were officially over, fuck the bullshit, who the fuck was he that I had to impress him, fuck that. He saw the real fuckin' me that day. The funny thing is that he never commented on my appearance. He was just happy to see me again, it'd been so long.

As we talked I could see the hurt in his eyes as he talked about the break up of him and his ex, the final nail in the coffin. He went on to tell me about the new guys he was seeing at the time. They sounded pretty wack to me, that shit wasn't gonna last, I know Pubby and I knew he wasn't really into those dudes like that. Filled with all the hope that the prospect of a new relationship brings I told him about Mr. Bojangles and he was equally as impressed. The defining moment of our meeting is when he turned to me, looked into my eyes and said something to the effect of:

"I know we've gone through a lot of shit but I've always thought that once I got my shit together and you got you shit together that somehow we'd end up together."

I always thought the same thing.

Fast forward to a few weeks later and here we are, together. Throwing caution to the wind and saying fuck the world and fuck everyone else who doesn't see it, bitches better open their eyes or get some fuckin' glasses or bifocals or contacts some shit. Although things have been going great, for us so far the going hasn't always been easy, especially for me. If you've been reading you'll know that Pubby hurt me real bad last time around. How will I know he won't hurt me again? I don't. (That's why I wrote this poem.) All I can do is trust him. Well I'm not just trusting in him blindly, I'm not that stupid. My trust is being built through his actions. Remember my relationship theory:

"If a man really wants to do something he will do it. Period."

I'm talking about effort. We're gy but we're also men and if a man wants you he's gonna make an effort toward you. Phone calls, text messages, dates, visits, show me you want me nigga. So far he's been on point, passing every test. I'm not sure what happened when we were apart but Pubby is like a different person now, like Damascus Road different. I even teased him and asked him whether he'd had a visit from the Ghost Of Christmas Future. He's so attentive and caring and real now, it's almost scary. The cynical faggot inside me perpetually asks the question of whether it's just a phase, but if I'm gonna be happy I can't give in to that.

Now I'm seeing past all the superficial shit. Sure he's still a party boy who likes fashion and labels, that's not gonna change and I'm cool with that, but he's also my dude that I can eat bad Chinese food with, on the bed, chillin, watching "John Tucker Must Die" (smile). He's opened up to me now. I get to see the Pubby that the world doesn't get to see. Behind the makeup, ponytails (smile), smoke and mirrors and I realized that we're not so totally different after all. I always thought that all that fierceness and indecision was just a defense mechanism anyway. It was. He told me that he's wanted to be with me for a while, but was fighting it tooth and nail, scared of opening up and being hurt again. He recently told me that he's stopped fighting. Call me crazy, call me a fool, but I'm happy. We'll see.

HAPPY EASTER!

==========
Playing In The Background...
"Fallin'"
by Alicia Keys
from the album "Songs In A-Minor"
and
"Clumsy"
by Fergie
from the album "The Dutchess"
and
"Trippin' (That's the Way Love Works)"
by Toni Braxton
from the album "Libra"
and
"Still Open"
by Syleena Johnson
from the album "Chapter 3 - The Flesh"
and
"Opposites Attract"
by Paula Abdul
from the album "Forever Your Girl"
and
"Bump What Ya Friends Say"
by Fantasia
from the album "Fantasia"
==========

==========
Today's Throwback Blog Post:
See, The Reason Why My Relationships Never Work Out Is… (Part 1)
Originally posted April 7th, 2007
==========

"The sex is just immaculate, from the back I get
Deeper and deeper, help ya reach the,
Climax that your man can't make,
Call him, tell him you'll be home real late..."
  -Notorious BIG
   from the song "One More Chance (remix)"

"How you like it baby? Uhh, from the front,
Uhh, from the back, give that ass a smack,
Bet your man won't do it like that,
Can't work the middle, plus his thing too little..."
  -Diddy
   from the song "No Time" with Lil' Kim

Late one night, two years ago, at two o'clock in the morning I was online IM-ing with this guy, let's call him Anderson. Anderson and I had been talking off and on sparingly via IM and telephone for about a year or so but for whatever reason had never actually met. We'd exchanged pictures and I was definitely attracted to him and I was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual. Our IM conversation that night turned sexual. As things were getting hot and heavy Anderson asked me to come see him. As badly as I wanted him I was having second thoughts due to the fact that it was already 2am and he was about an hour and a half away on the subway, but he was fine, I was horny, I didn't have to work until the afternoon the next day, so I thought, fuck it I'll go and I went.

I was so tired on the train that I missed my transfer stop, dozing in and out of sleep, the things we do for sex. You'd think that after missing my stop that I'd be deterred from my mission. But nope, not at all, common sense be damned, this was a sure thing. I have wanted to fuck this dude ever since the first time I saw him online and dammit we fuckin' tonight.

I finally get to his house and see him for the first time, he's fine, better than he looked in his pictures. I sat on his bed, I got comfortable and we stumbled through awkward small talk until he kissed me, shutting me the fuck up. Then it was on, the clothes somehow came off and I fucked him, longstroking from the back, watching my dick slide in and out of him, talking more shit than a porno movie. "Yeah, you like that?" "What's my name? What's my motherfuckin' name nigga?" "Who's dick is this?" "Who's ass is this?" "Who's ya daddy nigga?" "Is this what the fuck you been wantin' nigga?" "Tell me you love my shit nigga!" "Gimme that ass nigga!" All while he moaned my name, burying his head in his pillows. We ejaculated, we fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later so I could have enough time to get ready for work.

I called him later that day, no answer. The next day, no answer. No answer to my IM's online either. What the fuck? We have sex and now he doesn't wanna talk to me anymore. He's one of those faggots, the ones who can let a nigga fuck them and that's it. Aight, I see how it is. So after a few days I stopped calling, shit, fuck that, I'm not running after him, I already fucked him already so I guess I got I wanted, even though I really wanted to get to know him better. I still wondered why he didn't want to talk to me though, what had I done wrong? Dealing with men has taught me though that sometimes it's just better not to even ask why because you'll drive yourself crazy. I'm a man and I still have yet to figure men out. It's just best to take whatever good there is from a situation, put that in your pocket and move on, for your own sanity.

A few days after I decided not to even think about Anderson anymore and accept the nutt for what it was, he hits me up online, of course, once I'm over it and finally feeling somewhat okay about things, of course. He tried to make small talk and explained his behavior. He proceeded to tell me that he was actually talking to someone else at the time when we had sex and that he and that person were on the eve of becoming more serious. I was basically the last hoorah, the fireman stripper that the bride let fuck her the night before the wedding. He asked me whether we could be friends. I proceeded to cuss his ass out and tell him to never speak to me again. From then on I was hurt, I really liked Anderson. We talked on and off for like a year. I wanted to at least have a chance with him. Why did he do that to me, why did he just use me like that just to sow his last wild oats. Why didn't he tell me what the deal was? And who the fuck was this guy anyway? What made him so special that he could roll over from me and back to him? I know I did I good job in that bedroom, you can't fake that shit. What did he have that I didn't have? I guess him and his dude had a preexisting emotional connection. I just wish he hadn't used me for his cruel relationship experiment and had me get my feelings all involved.

A few months later I went out with a friend, who introduces me to his friend, let's call this friend Wayne. Me my friend and Wayne go to a party. On the way back home my friend falls asleep leaving me and Wayne awake. Wayne starts to talk to me, flirting with me in the most crass, vile and slightly drunkened way possible. There was not a damn thing attractive about Wayne, at least not to me, especially now with him drunk-ish and his breath smelling awful. He's flirting with me and I'm so not interested, yet he persists, fueled by an empty, overly ambitious, mind numbing, class, league, and caste unconscious bravado that only liquor can give. This dude was not only unattractive, disrespectful and inexplicably cocky, he was trying to fuck me. After I finished laughing and let him know that I was a top and that I'm not getting down like that. He let me know that he's on his way to his shorty's house as a segue into finding out where I live, as if I'm gonna tell him. He just doesn't stop. The next day after I told my friend what happened, about how his friend tried to pick me up, he let me know who Wayne's "shorty" was. I was the stripper, Anderson was the bride, and Wayne was the groom. Anderson stopped talking to my for Wayne's sorry ass! Is he serious, yuk! He must have gotten into his whole bad boy-ish, homo thug thing he had going. Whatever, good for them. If he liked it I loved it. By that time I was way over Anderson anyway. I just laughed and kept it moving.

About a week or two later I get an IM from Anderson. By this time I had a new screen name but somehow he found me. He apologized for all that had happened and wanted to make amends with me. I agreed, we exchanged numbers and then he called. He began to tell me about all the problems he was having with Wayne, as he didn't know that I knew who Wayne was yet, and I listened. Later in the convo I admitted that Wayne and I had met. He alluded to the fact that people say that he's too good for Wayne, almost in a way that made him sound ashamed of Wayne. He then asked me what I thought, but I'm way too much of a politician to answer questions like that. Then he told me that sometimes he wishes that he had chosen me over Wayne. I have to admit that statement did bring me some ill-gotten joy. If I were petty I would have told him how Wayne tried to pick me up that night a while back but I didn't, some things are better left unsaid. After that night Anderson and I became friends.

As time went on our friendship became stronger and stronger. We worked not to far from each other so there would some days here and there where we'd have lunch together. The main course served would always be Wayne and his latest caper. About how Wayne would cheat, or lie, or say something fucked up or any combination of the three. I never understood why Anderson let Wayne play him the way he did. Wayne would never let him have any friends. Wayne never liked for him to go anywhere without him. Wayne didn't even know about the lunches we had together. He let Wayne get in his head and totally fuck up his confidence. Anderson would always complain about how he looked, how he couldn't do this, couldn't do that, just negativity all the time. I wanted the old Anderson back.

I told Anderson that I would like to come out to his boyfriend, the two of us being friends, without disclosing our sexual history because at that point I felt totally platonic toward Anderson. My sexual feelings turned into feelings of friendship, brotherhood and now sorrow toward Anderson. I wanted to be able to take him out and have him chill with me and my friends and have some fun and not be stuck in the house waiting on Wayne all the time. I wanted him to see himself as beautiful, like I saw him. He told me that Wayne would never like the idea of us hanging out because I'm a top like he is. He would be afraid of us messing around behind his back.

It's like I knew him but I didn't know him anymore. This was not the person I had talked to and first met over a year ago. He was so empty, it's like Wayne had taken over his mind or something. I remember asking Anderson one day "Does Wayne hit you?" It was crazy, he was like a battered wife or something, a glutton for punishment, but why? Wayne ain't got shit? What was he getting out of this? It baffled me. Seeing someone who I was once so attracted to succumb to this made him so unattractive. Through it all Anderson would still flirt with me and still tell me that he should have chosen me. I would always counter, turning things around, bringing it right back to Wayne, saying things like "Would your husband like it if he heard you talking like that?" and "Does Wayne know you're talking to me?" Anderson would get so mad at me when I did that. But I had to show him how foolish he was.

A few months later Anderson texted me, getting at me hard on the sexual tip. I did my usual Wayne counter but it didn't work that day because Wayne was out of town. So I came over and we talked and I ended up fucking him. I fucked Anderson longer, harder, and rougher that I did the first time and it felt better than the first time. As I fucked Anderson I felt like I was fucking Wayne's sorry ass too. I was hurting him for how he hurt me all the times he hurt my friend, cheating on him, and saying all that fucked up shit, for how he tried to holla at me like I was some fuckin' bird-ass nigga. So yeah Wayne, fuck you, fuck you and now I'm fucking your boyfriend and he's loving it, saying my name, calling me daddy and all that.

After we finished having sex as we were putting our clothes on I was in the mirror, looking at myself, feeling like the motherfucking man when Anderson said to me. "Wow, it's been a long time since I've taken a dick that large. I hope Wayne doesn't notice. I may have to take a bath in some Epsom Salts before he gets back." After I questioned that statement he went on to tell me that Wayne's dick is small, I mean, not really small, but not really big either, but considerably smaller than mine, and smaller than most people would think, given his bravado, swagger, thug appeal, etc. Even I had to admit I thought that the brotha must have been packin', I mean after the bravado he put up when tried to talk to me and the way that he has Anderson's mind all fucked up, I just knew he was tearin' it up in the bedroom. That had to be why Anderson has stayed this long. Anderson went on to tell me that it has even caused problems in their relationship. It's not even that Anderson is dissatisfied with Wayne's size but it's that Wayne is dissatisfied with it himself. He's also super self-conscious about it. That explained a lot Wayne's behavior, the cheating, the belittling of Anderson, he wanted to feel like a "real man", and here's the root of it all, laying bare and exposed before me, to manipulate at my leisure. This made things even more sweet.

That wasn't the end of the sex-capades between me and Anderson, we met again and again once with him sucking my dick, and me fucking him again, we even snuck off and made out in a club bathroom once. Knowing that I could literally satisfy him in ways his man couldn't, hitting spots his man couldn't, was an amazing, euphoric feeling that last way beyond the last cumshot. Looking down at my phone and seeing text messages saying "I need that big ass dick again Daddy..." and hearing him say "He fucked me last night and I closed my eyes wishing it was you..." is an ego boost that can't be described. He had his head, he had his heart, but that ass was mine. Seeing them out together places, having Wayne say "Whaddup?" to me, thinking that we only know each other from the night he tried to talk to me, hoping I don't spill the beans to his boyfriend that he thinks I don't know, not knowing that I've been fucking his boyfriend all along, and even not seeing the sly wink his boyfriend gives to me as we talk, it was wrong. I was wrong, we all were wrong and using each other. Although it wasn't my only intention, I was using Anderson, my friend for sex, an ego boost. Anderson used me to make himself feel desirable and as a way to get back at Wayne, an ego boost, he also used me for sex. Wayne was using Anderson for validation, an ego boost, someone he could treat like shit and would still be there, someone he could pick up and put down at his leisure.

Anderson has never answered my question, what does Wayne have that I don't have? But as I said, sometimes it's just better not to even ask why because you'll drive yourself crazy. At this point I don't even care anymore because I don't want a romantic relationship with Anderson anymore, we're not even messing around anymore. All of this is in the past. I've just taken an evil solace in the fact that any time I look at Wayne for the rest of our lives I'll be able to say that "my dick is bigger than yours."

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Playing In The Background...
"One More Chance (remix)"
by Notorious BIG
from the album "Ready To Die"
and
"No Time" feat. Diddy
by Lil' Kim
from the album "Hard Core"
and
"Not Big"
by Lily Allen
from the album "Alright, Still"
and
"Taken"
by Cherish
from the album "Unappreciated"
and
"She Don't Have To Know"
by John Legend
from the album "Get Lifted"
and
"Wish U Was My Girl"
by Babyface
from the album "Face2Face"
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Now I realize that that's a very petty and shallow way to be, I totally realize that. It's a terrible thing way to be. But what's interesting to see is that no matter who, what, or how much we have, and how smart and evolved that we say we are, that we as humans, especially male humans that we are all still animals. At the end of the day the most important thing to almost every man, gay or straight is the size of his dick and the validation it gets or doesn't get him. It was important to me, Wayne was obsessed with it and I'm sure it's somewhat important to you.