Chinese (Dominican/Puerto Rican) Experiment - TAKE II

I flipped the script on JADED today. She threatened to make the switch to our FB faux relationship to "it's complicated." Instead, and sneakily, I made the change.

Interesting thing here - it told me that she needed to confirm the status of the relationship, but as soon as I changed it my profile said "it's complicated." Didn't bother waiting for her to confirm it. And then, within minutes, our text exchange:

I'm NOT confirming that we are in a complicated relationship. I REFUSE! How dare you, carajo?! Don't you know who I am? You think you can do BETTER?

Mine says complicated. I don't care what you do.

*sobs* How can you humiliate me like this?!? ON FACEBOOK?!?

Who's this?

MIRA CARAJO!

JACK's COMMENTARY
It's funny how that in real life, one person can decide a relationship is complicated and it just is. I mean, I might think everything is fine but if my man is struggling with it - then it's complicated. But, really - what the fuck does that mean? A Complicated Relationship.

What *IS* a complicated relationship? I've always thought it was pretty cut and dry. Relationships are riddled with ups and downs ... what's so complicated?

Any thoughts?

No really does mean .... NO

Last week I got this text message from a dude:

"I don't know what I did wrong, but I can't do anything about it if you're not communicating with me."

I had not spoken to him in a while, but the last time we had spoken, he was trying to get me to phone bone or have text sex or so whatever. Clearly, dude has gone off the deep end, since I did already CLEARLY explained that I was not doing casual sex and that I wasn't interested in this nonsense. So, I ended that interaction abruptly and a while later I get a text pic of his finale.

I've not acknowledged him at all since. No responses to IM's, to texts, to his phone calls. And - yes, I'm clear that he has a mini-obsession thing going on, but it's not my problem. It really isn't. When I tell the mutha fucka that I'm not interested in casual sex and that that phase is truly behind me ... that I really am not looking for JUST sex, so casual sex is just not really an option because that's all casual sex is (it's JUST sex) ... the mutha fucker should NOT be talking about, "that just made you so much hotter."

He's obviously not listening to me. That, or he thinks he's God's gift to gay men and that he can wear me down. And if it's the latter, then he CLEARLY doesn't know me. When I done made up my mind, it's set. Like concrete.

Today I get a text from this other brutha - a kid, really. A decade my junior and trying to holla for a couple of years now. Whatever, he comes out of the woodworks when it's convenient for him ... we exchange niceties and then he disappears again. Today?

"I'm just bored in class. What's new?"

"Fool, pay attention!"

"I usually do - but today is boring"

"Bad Student!"

"You should punish me :-)"

"How do you think I should go about doing THAT?"

"You can figure that our - I know yr a freak"

"Actually, I'm not - it's 3+ months since I took that vow of celibacy"

"But why? You're a hot boi"

WTF! When I say that I'm not doing the casual sex bit ... the response should not be a reference to how hot you think I am, dammit! I don't give a got damn - ok? Listen closely - NOOOTTTT DOOOOIIIINNNNNGGGG IIIIITTTTTTTT

Acceptable responses include, but are not limited to:

• "oh, cool - I didn't know"
• "Well, go on witcha bad self"
• "Peace"
• "How long has it been? That's great"
• "For real?! YOU?!? LOL" (cuz I can take a joke - but eventually, one of the aforementioned acceptable responses must follow)

Seriously, folks - if we're not dating, we're not fucking. (period)

Y YA!

Suck the Shine off Dem Lips

So, my lips have been screaming for the winter to go the fuck away and for some humidity to come on back into the air - so I've got m carmex. I'm on a date last night and put some on - I ask him if my lips are shiny cuz I don't want them all shiny. He said it didn't matter because he'd suck the shine off my lips if he had to.

Really? Ok - so, I was at work today and .... blah blah blah

Look folks, I wasn't kidding about my not being into no fuckin and suckin and frottagin' and all dat. I'm not sure where my libido is, but it's off in some far away brush hiding from me. And I'm not out looking for it.

I made that clear when he and I began to speak - of course, we met online. So, of course, I didn't have my hopes in the rafters over the date, but it was a fun change to an otherwise mundane schedule of work, train, home - work, train, home. So, I went and for all intents and purposes things went fairly well.

Weird.

I didn't see any sparks or anything - but I'm glad to have gone out and met him and to listen to him speak as opposed to reading him text. I'm not sure what the shiny lip comment was about, but I think he got the message when I acknowledged he said it and kept it moving into other areas. He didn't disrespect me, he didn't try to touch me or get me home or anything. It ended with a kiss goodbye that was really just a peck on the lips and nothing really extraordinarily ridiculous ...

I done tole you how I once accidentally blew a drag queen - I'm not taking ya' mother fuckers at face value anymore ... any queen in heels can kick off her shoes and put on some Nikes and a pair of baggy jeans. But I'm (mostly) sure this one doesn't moonlight in hosiery.

Whatever - I'm just glad I'm able to date without getting cum in my hair.

Self Centered Men

I met a guy online and we really seemed to hit it off. We exchanged numbers and had a phone conversation that was effortless by all measures. He had a very interesting story and I asked tons of follow up questions during a 2-hour conversation that didn't seem nearly that long at all. We agreed to meet for lunch the following day.

It was a fool proof plan, I thought. It was his day off and I am pretty flexible with my work schedule and can go out for lunch at any time. We texted in the morning and it seemed like it might be a little later than noon ... he manages a restaurant and had to go in to do a few things and we would meet after that.

Seemed fine.

Then he told me to just come by his restaurant. I wasn't so sure about that, but I did want to meet him in person and so I went. It was awkward to say the least and I'll spare all of the details about how I told him I was uncomfortable being there at his job and how everyone was trying to get his attention and asking him questions, and about how we agreed to just sit in the sitting area away fro everyone and just talk and how he then decided to give me a tour of the building and introduced me to all these damn people. (after I told him that this was his work and I didn't think we really should be hanging out there, especially on our first meeting)

I agreed to have lunch on Saturday with him. It meant that I had to wake up early and drive back to Chicago to meet him, but I thought it was worth it. I really did want to spend time getting to know him in neutral territory.

On Friday night I called him and he told me that we wouldn't be able to meet for lunch the following day because he made other plans after I left ... after we agreed on meeting for lunch on Saturday. He said that I should call him when I get back into town and he would see if he had time to meet with me, "no, I'll MAKE time to meet with you," he said.

Well, how about NO. How about I come back to Chicago whenever the hell I feel like it and NOT call you to tell your dumb ass that I'm in town. At this point, I review the 2 hour conversation we had and it really WAS all about him - he did most of the talking and I found out a LOT about his life and he found out little to none about mine. Moreover, he wanted me to see HIS place of employment, give me a tour of the building HE works in ... and wanted me to let him know when I was around and he's fit me into HIS schedule.

All in all, I found him totally wrapped up in HIM - and while I really like a man who has his shit together and has a career and all that ... I'm going to need him to come with enough security to not have to flaunt it. I didn't ooohhh and ahhhh about his restuarant or hotel ... Well, I travel a LOT for work and I've stayed at Ritz Carltons, resorts in Maui, Pointe Clear Alabama, blah blah blah. It get to the point where hotels are hotels with conference rooms and meeting rooms and banquet halls and sleeping rooms and it's all the fucking same. He really wasn't impressing me .. or fucking teaching me anything when he was trying to explain to me that there was an airwall in the restaurant that made a certain area a private function space.

... just like tons of private function areas I've been in for meetings ... from the like of St. Elmos in downtown Indianapolis to the Westin Mag mile. I GET IT!

I didn't call him when I came back into town - instead, I went out for my birthday this weekend and woke up with one hell of a hangover this afternoon.

I noticed him online today and I told him that it was too bad we didn't connect and that I hope he had a good weekend. He responded and said that he was sorry he was unable to make time in his schedule for me.

"LOL - you're silly. You DID have time - you just chose to spend it at a garage sale."

(that's where he went, btw, instead of keeping our Saturday lunch date)

He didn't respond.

He's out his damn mind if he thinks he's got it worse than anyone else when it comes to scheduling in a date ... mfer, I live in two cities, travel all over the damn country and still manage to make sure the men I date don't feel like impositions.

Too bad he's too wrapped up in himself trying to impress people with himself ... he's a good looking, successful Black man who can hold a decent conversation (that is, of course, as long as it's about him)

smh

This ain't your song

Although, I understand why you'd want it to be

A week in the life ...

I drove to Chicago on Sunday night of last week thinking about the fact that it had been 9 weeks since I got laid. So, yuh - I was overdue. Monday night - I did the deed ... got that out of my system, and kept it moving.

I have this idea in my head that I should really keep my business away from home. I don't bring dudes to my house - I usually go to theirs. That means that I must have a safety plan in place. So, Jaded already had this boy's address. Someone must ALWAYS know where you are when you're out creeping.

So, we get the deed done (it wasn't bad, actually - I enjoyed myself) and he tells me to call him. I nod, but of course I have no intention of doing any such thing. I got in, got off and got out. Why is that such a hard fucking concept nowdays. You're my Au Revoir Nigga ... so au revoir, nigga.

On Wednesday I really wanted to go out to the bars - the gay bars. It was one of those weeks. I just needed to step outside of myself, get out of my own way and have a good time. So my roommate and I end up at this place called Jackhammer - I read about it in another blog and was interested in seeing it. Of course, it was a Wednesday night and you could count the men up in there and that was actually kind of nice. After three drink and two games of pool, we went to The Anvil.

At the Anvil, more of the same - Wednesday, few dudes ... very just perfect. And a dude there by himself passed out on the back porch where I went to smoke. Some other dude walks over and says he's been macking on this passed out fool all night. I was confused by what this White dude meant but then he leaned over and started making out with the dude that was so passed out he had no idea what was going on.

I told my roommate that I was leaving and went inside. 1) I don't know the passed out dude and how the hell you gonna go out drinking alone and pass out? 2) I don't know creepy kissing dude and I just wanted out. So I went inside. Left them there to do I don't care what.

Back outside a little bit later it turns out one of the dudes we were talking to about how to make pot brownies (apparently, you saute the weed and get the THC into the oil and strain it to use the oil in the brownie - who knew?!) actually lived next door. So, he asked us to his place to eat pot brownies and my roommate and I left with him.

I made it clear that I wasn't going to eat any. I haven't had weed in 12 years and this was not the way to get back in the habit, in some dude's house I just met.My roommate had one while I played with Frank's cat. Eventually, we left. My roommate didn't feel the weed ... must not be the right way to make it.

On Friday I drove back to Indy, took my kids out for pizza ... and then headed to the ER to get the staple removed from my son's head. They came at him with a pair of scissor looking things with clamps on the end. My son didn't like it. He was freaking out ... I held him down and the staple came out with an OW!" out of his mouth. My daughter came back in right after talking about "I heard him say OW when it came out so I knew it was over" (She had to stay outside while we got it done)

Saturday - daughter's soccer game at 9am. Son's soccer game at 3pm. Some scheduler somewhere is laughing it up to the stucco ceiling, I'm sure. I slet all afternoon between games.

Then we went to run errands. I bought clothes I didn't need. But I like them.

It's amazing the extra-curricula activity you can pack into six days ... amazing.

I forgive you

It turns out that everything I thought to be my past with my first love is actually quite skewed ... in our talks yesterday, we figured out that what we were each made to believe about the other was simply not true. And we were torn apart by a third, kept apart by that third party and now it's all out in the open.

We've accepted our responsibility for it - we were both young and confused and easily manipulated and so, we were. However, we both see that we're better people for having gone through it and we're both stronger than we were ... and we weren't very string back then when we thought we were.

But I am releasing said third party - I cannot live life holding a grudge and being angry because the bondage would be mine and I refuse to live in bondage.

So, PF - I forgive you.

Really. I do.

Smiling,

JACK

My First Love called

I heard his voice. I remember one of the last times I heard it - it was like 2000 or so. When I heard his voice over the phone then, my heart jumped and skipped a beat. Today? It was like he was the neighbor calling to tell me that the dog had gotten out again. It was totally void of that emotion and remorse and heartache.

I guess I really am totally over it. Who knew?!? I thought he would always give me butterflies ... but no. It really is truly something in my past. And at least now I can look back on it fondly, knowing it really was real.

I feel so grown up (I say after having recently posted that I got mad at some nigga and hung up on him)

[but he deserved it, carajo!]

I had to cut our conversation short because my boss was calling on the other line - he texted me and asked what was a good time to call tonight because he would like to keep talking. That was nice - and that I'm not making a big emotional deal out of it (like, omg! he wants to keep talking to me!) is even nicer.

Call anytime - I'd like to keep talking too.

Except if he calls too damn late, I might have to hang up on him too. JACK loves his sleep.

Wait - it's YOU again (The Final Chapter)

I decided that I don't give a fuck what his current relationship consists of - the fact that he's wanting to reestablish something with ME while he's talking to someone else is really all I need to know.

I asked him to call me the following day so that we could talk. It was late and he was going to bed. "k," came the response text.

He was trying to avoid me the next day - I know he was. He was suddenly real busy. Well, at the end of the day I texted him that it was obvious he didn't have time. And I began to pen an email to him. I needed to call it quits ... via any mechanism, I didn't care.

While I'm writing, he calls. I told him he's unfair. That his contacting me again was selfish, that it wasn't about ME at all, but more about his own conscience. He gets to make contact to make himself feel better about ditching me based on a lie ... but *I* have to rehash all those emotions I felt when he just ceased communicating with me.

He didn't try to contradict me.

I said that my emotions were real and my feelings today are real too. I did confess that I have feelings for him, which is why, I said, he's being selfish. And then he said the thing that nailed the coffin ...

"I can't say that we couldn't eventually be together ...."

Oh, wait - so, because I have feelings for you I'm just supposed to sit by and wait? Really? I'm just supposed to be there for you while you get over your co-dependency with your children, sort out the sexuality issues that you have ... and deal with all the countless other issues you have ... just in mother fucking case?

How aabbbooouuuuutttt - no. Let's try that. I am much too valuable, I said, to sit around and do that. You have a serious problem with your codependency with your own damn kids - you're a great dad, I said, but you are doing them a HUGE disservice, especially that 24 year old who still trying to act out, and you're not preparing them for the real world. And you're doing yourself a disservice too.

He took that amazaingly well, considering how "can't nobody talk bad about my kids" he is. "You're right," "I know," and other affirmations is all he could muster.

I can't do this - my feelings are real and you're selfish. You treated me like discarded trash and now you want to "rescue" me by asking me to lie in wait. No, sir.

This business of calling and texting everyday - asking about how's your day and how're you doing? That's all relationship stuff. The people I consider my CLOSEST friends ... I don't fucking stay on the phone with them, asking them how it's going at that moment. So, that's gonna stop.

"I understand."

and blah blah blah ... and woo woo woo.

I continued on a tirade that he deserved - and he took it. He took it all. Eventually he said that I could call him.

"No. I won't. I'm not making your phone ring - that's the damn lie that got us here, that I fucking called and talked to your son and told him our business. I told you already, I won't be calling."

"ok," he said with a sigh. "Well, it's going to take a lot of work to even establish a friendship."

"Nope. Because I'm not doing it. I'm making NO effort."

"Wow."

And with that wow, it seemed to sink in. Except he wouldn't say bye. "I CAN'T say bye. I just can't do it."

"hmmm," I said with disdain in my voice.

"Nope - i can't - you're going to have to say it because ....."

"Ok. Goodbye."

and I hung up.

Wait - it's YOU again (The Trilogy)

Yes - he is sort of seeing someone, he tells me - but it's likely not to go anywhere because he has to focus on the kids.

Well, shit - you aren't looking for anything romatically out of ME either, then

That confused me - I mean, why would he call me after all this time if he already moved on? I wracked my brain for a while and it finally dawned on me ... he needed to clear his OWN conscience. He didn't need me to forgive him per se ... he needed to reconnect with me and tell me the truth to deal with his own guilt - and whether I accepted his apology or no, it didn't matter. he still got to get it off his chest.

Well, nigga - I got some shit to get off my chest too.

How the fuck dare you come back at me like this ... INVOLVED with another nigga, looking for my forgiveness? Why the hell do *I* have to deal with this shit all over again? It wasn't enough that I lost you to some bullshit I didn't do and had to mourn losing what could have been a decent relationship over something I couldn't control or have anything to do with? That wasn't enough?

You mean, I get to do it all over again? Joy. I get to hear you apologize, ask for forgiveness and know all about your life all over again ... after 10 months and shit ... but you're talking to someone else and even if I *do* forgive you, I STILL can't have you.

Nice.

VERY nice.

I told him that it's abundantly clear to me that he did not feel for me what I felt for him ... that I was really ready to pursue "us" on an exclusive basis, that I was really into him - and he APPARENTLY wasn't there. And so, I own that I pushed for it too fast, and too hard ... and that his son's antics were quite convenient for him because it gave him an opportunity to nurture his flight response.

He disagreed - said that he was really feeling me and was on the verge of agreeing to pursue things exclusively and then his son hit him with all of that.

Again, how convenient.

He's calling me on a regular basis now - like he was a year ago. And the calls are all 5 minutes or less, like they were a year ago. And during each one of those short conversation, I manage to get in a dinger.

Today, I asked him if his son was helping around the house (they had severe storm damage and were without power for 36 hours) and he said the boy has no choice - he does his share or he gets out.

(bullshit)

and he continued to talk about the progress they need to make.

"It's hard to break out of codependency," I said.

There was a very short pause - almost undetectable - but it was there. The pause before he said, "Yuh, it is."

Whatever - he still needs to hear my mouth about the whole co-dependency issue ... and I will eventually ask about the specifics between him and this dude. Both issue will serve to finalize the closure I need ...

and depending on how those two conversations go, I may be able to agree to continue on this path to restore a friendship - that's what he asked for, incidentally.

Or - I may be ghost.

I'll keep you posted.

Wait - it's YOU again? (Part Duex)

"heey," he said.

"hey."

His voice sounded familiar, but not in the way you would think. I mean, I tried to remember what his voice sounded like during those 4.5 hours I waited for the phone to ring. I tried to no avail, that is. Seriously, I couldn't remember his voice.

I tried to get in touch with him via email in the months that followed his telling me that he wasn't talking to me anymore. But the last time I emailed him I resolved to let it go completely if he didn't respond. And he didn't. So, I erased his number from my phone and kept it moving. I tried, right?

Well, when I finally DID hear his voice, it was like .. OOOOHHH. Yes, once I heard him speak I remembered. You know how when a word is right on the tip of your tongue, but you can't quite get it? It was like that, but only with a voice.

He proceeded to explain what happened:

His son explained to him that he saw my name on the caller ID and picked up. We had a conversation and he told his dad all the specifics - and he wanted his dad to know that I wasn't allowed to take him away from them. His daughter felt the same way. See, he's a single dad and is raising these two on his own and it was WAY too much for him to fathom that I would talk to his son.

Except, I didn't.

I never, ever called his cell phone and had anyone else pick up the phone. EVER. Apparently, however, his son and daughter picked up on the fact that he was on his way to getting involved and snooped through is call log, found my name and approached their dad with the story above in order to get him to stop pursing anything outside of their immediate family.

And it worked.

I was never given the opportunity to contradict his son's story because he never confronted me. He shut down instead, believed his son without question ... and consequently had no questions for me either. I mean, why would the 24 year old son lie to him?

Oh, I didn't mention his son is twenty fucking four?

Well, he is. He's a grown ass man who's afraid to lose his daddy. I can't fathom that type of thinking, especially considering I come from a home that really didn't give a fuck about the kids. (My mom married my step-father and told us about it three days LATER and also said he was moving in ... and we'd never met him) I left for college at seventeen and I wasn't looking back. By the time I was 24, I was the lead engineer on $68M work of work and live 700 miles away from my parents - so don't ask me to synthesize that one - I can't.

But how did he find this all out, I wondered? (tell me you were wondering that too ...)

Apparently, homeboy is talking to some dude right now. Yes, the same homeboy who wasn't ready for a gay relationship with ME... yuh him. Anyway, the "children" did it again - only this time the 24-year old initiated the call to the "significant other" and said whatever the son said ... and then the son called his father at work to say there was an emergency at home involving the "significant other."

Well, that's how he "found out" that I had done nothing wrong and that he totally shut me out based on a lie.

So, I did forgive him for it - I didn't blame him for believing his son ... after all, I'm a dad too and I'm a protective dad as well. So, I can understand. I'm definitely more confrontational than homeboy is, but then again I wasn't hiding in the closet and just LOOKING for an excuse not to move forward.

But I've got new issues now - I can forgive you for what you did then ... but what about what you're doing now?!? This was turning out to be a multi-call sorting out of issues. Because I've got issues with this ... why are you calling me with this shit - don't you have a man?

You know I asked him that, right?

Wait - it's YOU again?

In july of 2008, I met a guy I was smitten with almost immediately. We went to the cheesecake factory on the mag mile in Chicago and sat in a booth in the bar, holding hands under the table. It was surreal, how we instantly took to each other - and not in a "i'm totally stroking his dick under the table" kind of way. I mean, my interest was in HIM, not on what he was packing. So much so, I really didn't care what he was packing.

(I know, weird.)

Anyway, he spend the following week calling me several times a day, sometimes just saying he was busy as hell but wanted me to know what he thought of me. I wondered here at JGC if I was on Candid Camera. I really didn't know what to make of it.

In the weeks that followed his job took him to a Naperville, IL and I drove over and spent some time in his hotel room with him. We petted, I admit - but considering all the "encounters" I've talking about in posts past, it's actually meaningful here that we were taking it slow and waiting for later to actually do that damn thing.

Slowly, the calls became less frequent - and while I understood he was extremely busy, it seemed to forecast that things weren't going to go the way I wanted. He mentioned his intent to move out of state and I knew I needed to keep my expectations in check.

I don't recall ever bloggin about how it was that he disappeared from my radar - but, what had happened was ....

I couldn't take it anymore and I came clean about my feelings for him, explained that what I was getting didn't seem like enough, and I really just wanted us to commit to moving forward into whatever the next phase would be and stop the happenstance touching of base whenever one of us permitted our schedules to allow it. It was heavy on him, as he wasn't quite out of the closet and I was pretty much forcing the issue.

Maybe 1 of the suitors I've blogged about since then was still in the closet - I really cannot be bothered with them anymore. And this guy is the reason. He told me that he needed some time to think about it. That he was going out of town with his mom and was going to use that time to really consider what i was saying.

Well, I wait the weekend, and then several days ... and then some more. Eventually he called me back and said, "I'm really not ready."

I was so disappointed ... but I told him that I wanted to be in his life in whatever capacity, because he really was a good guy. He was glad to hear that, he said - he was afraid I would bounce if he said no. So, we agreed to remain friendly.

But something happened.

He wouldn't call me, answer my emails or voicemails and something was up. I hit him up online when I saw him one day and he told me that he was very angry at me ... that it would be a long time before he was able to speak to me.

"ok."

Only it wasn't ok - because I had no idea what I did. I presumed I forced him to really deal with his sexuality before he was prepared to do so. So, I waited.

Nearly 10 months later - this is our text exchange:

"I know I don't deserve any of your time or consideration ... but I just found out that I treated you unfairly and I am very sorry."

Oh my. Really? Is this really happening?

I know. You don't have to forgive me, I just wanted to let you know I was sorry

I do forgive you

I'll call you later

ok

The four and a half hours that followed were the longest ever, until the phone rang, I answered and he said ...

"heey"

I'm loveable

Since before the turn of the century, I have been unable to listen to this song:



In the fall of 1997, my ex and I got back together for a spell. I was in his dorm room, on his bed and "Anytime" played on repeat while he made my body feel what it hasn't ever felt again. We slept in each other's arms - well, he slept. I listened to this song the entire night, staring at him sleep in the dark ... tracing his silhouette with my finger tips. In fact, I can still see him if I close my eyes and remember.

After all the nonsense that followed, I was unable to listen to this song. It filled me with intense sadness and would make my eyes well by the fourth beat or so. I have ALWAYS turned the station if the song came on.

I listened to the song today and its impact on me was gone. It's a sweet memmory now that makes me smile - now that I know he loved me like I loved him. I considered this newfound fact in light of something I have known for many years.

I never really felt worthy of love - of being loved. I knew my own propensity to FEEL love, but never really believed that it could exist in anyone else towards ME. If you've followed my writing in The Evolution of Indifference, you know that my mother's ambivalent attitude towards me and my knowing that she really didn't want me would contribute to my feeling that way. But when my first love rejected me ... well, I just knew that meant I wasn't loveable.

I can attribute my crass and insensitive nature to that one thing - that I just knew no one could love me because of something intrinsic, something within me that simply WAS me, that I couldn't change. But when he told me he loved me profoundly, had trouble getting over me for many years, all but chose a career based on who I was ... and that I would ALWAYS be his first love ...

Well, that has changed me - it has profoundly impacted my self image, and forever has changed my view of the past that until this week lack vibrancy and color. It existed in black and white, grainy like an old episode of the twilight zone on a black and white television with rabbit ears and knobs to turn the channels ... as if it were just about to go snowy and undecipherable.

I can now see me in vibrant color, in HD ... and I like what I see. I'm alive inside - an emotional Lazarus has shaken off his wrappings and is smiling at me, FROM within me. And folks - I really am loveable. I really am.

And not just that - but I've always been.

I sit here typing, remembering all of the problems I've identified in all the potential suitors I've blogged about ... and I know that it was all just my attempt to find an excuse not to let them in, and to continue my own self-fulling prophecy: that i'm not able to be loved.

But I am - and I *was* loved. And that means more to me than anyone can know. It instantly changed my view of my college experienced. It has ALWAYS been the dark dreary days of my life, and suddenly - I see and remember the good things ... like working at the writing center, like when he came in one day - scared me because I didn't hear him, and kissed me. I forgot about that. Or like when I was a freshman and my father just left - I loved the freedom at that moment. Or when I dressed up in drag for halloween, or the next year when I wore a big diaper and went as a baby, or when I saw Birdcage ... and even when I got an 87 when I took that calculus exam drunk ... when I didn't study at all for the Rigid Body Dynamics course and got 100. Or when I was so drunk I threw up over the railing outside my dorm - ahhh. Or when I was high and tried to climb the hill ... in the snow ... without gloves. It's amazing I still have operable fingers. Ahhhh yes - college. They WERE good years. They weren't bad, and I don't have to be so bitter anymore.

In short - I know I'll be more forgiving of imperfections, as I want a man who is forgiving of mine.

But that doesn't mean I won't put out and blog about it. It's an epiphany, not a castration!

DAMN

First Love - It gets better

Well, we've been messaging back and forth on facebook for a few days now and push finally came to shove. And we rehashed what was our relationship some 11 years ago. ELEVEN. Am I a glutton for this kind of punishment? Why did I do this? I'm emotional right now and I'm not even sure what to do. So, I'm here.

He mentioned that he hasn't been in a relationship with a Hispanic since college. I asked, "who?!? me?" and he said yes. I explained that some months ago i began to wonder if he even considered me an ex- because all I can remember is that he left me, without any explanation, because his momma didn't want to accept his sexuality.

He said that of course he did. And what followed I was not prepared for. I don't even know where to start - because I don't know how it all happened. It's all a whirlwind of emotion and I can't remember who said what first and in what order we discussed them. So don't hold me to the specific order.

I came clean first, though. I did say that he was really hard to get over. That surprised him because he figured I went straight right after him and got married and had kids and he just figured I forgot about him. On the contrary, my friend - I just had a good poker face. Since I wasn't out, and was before I met him 21, a virgin and really confused .. I just didn't have anyone to turn to to sort through my emotions and what to do next.

I had no support system - no one knew I was with him, because I was away at college ... and no one knew I even liked men ... and counseling was never really something I even considered ... so i figured it out on my own. As much as I loved that man ... it was real, intense and deep ... and if it didn't work with HIM, then I was just not even going to bother with men at all. That's the stupid decision I came to.

He was floored, it seems. And said, "you never forget your first love." He was sexually active for years before he met me, and I knew that. I knew that I couldn't possibly be his first anything, and I figured I'd let him revel in this thing he has over me. He was my first.

He goes on to detail how we met. He remembered every minute detail ... he was working behind the counter at the campus center and this nigga remembered what I ordered (cheeseburger, curly fries)... that he took great care to make it ... and that my exact words were, "Thanks, man." I find it curious and keep interrupting. "Would you just listen," he says. Ok.

He remembers the first time I kissed him - where it was, who was there, what we were doing. He details it all for me. All of it. And says, "JACK, you were my first love."

WHAT?!?

For years after, he compared every man to me. If he didn't measure up, he says, they were "thrown out." For years he did this, until someone loved him through it - and they were together for 4.5 years. Now, however, the man has trust issues and their relationship has ended. But that's what it took.

WHAT?!?

I admit to him that when I found out he lived in Louisville, less than a 2 hour drive away, after my divorce ... that I actually paid for a people search to find him and I had several numbers to call him. I never called though because I was afraid he'd reject me and I couldn't do that again. I actually tried to get my cousin to make the calls, but she wouldn't recognize his voice. I admit this all knowing full well that he's going to think I'm a stalker. but I'm putting it all out on the table. "I did the same thing," he says to me.

WHAT?!?

Yes, folks - he paid the same fee, found a list of people in this city with my name and got through 3 calls before thinking it was stupid.

Now we live 700 miles apart, someone loved him through it and he's in a new relationship, and I'm not sure how I feel about all of this.

What should I feel right now, knowing he said that he really wished I had made calls when I got those Louisville numbers? Obviously, I'm not trying to start some shit here - so don't tell me to move to NY and beat the fuck out his current boyfriend ... I just need to know HOW to feel.

Flattered that he did love me after all? Grateful that he admitted it to me? I just feel WEIRD and I don't know what to do with it. HELP!

First Love, Revisited

I created a facebook account recently. I had been avoiding it like the plaques of Egypt because it just screamed "MORE STUFF TO DO" and seriously, I've got plenty already. However, after some thought on the matter, and listening to my coworkers talk about keeping in touch with their families I figured I'd give it a try.

Through the page of a friend, I ran across the FB page of MY FIRST. There he was with smoe retarded picture that wasn't of him on his profile - but it was his profile. I forced through the difficulty it was to write him a note, but I did it. I wasn't sure what I was expecting and I wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was my first EVERYTHING or if it was the fact that there was this pseduo love triangle thing going on in college that pinned him as a pawn. (I was a vindictive little bitch, I really was)

At any rate - a couple of days went by with no answer and I figured it was just as well that he hated me and I didn't have to deal with his ass.

Today was supposed to be a good day. I had morning sex with a bike messenger (and that's really all I'm going to say about it - it was supposed to be a good day!) and I sauntered along the sidewalk on my way to work ready to get a lot accomplished.

But later in the morning - there was an emailed response. It was an interesting response. "JACK? JACK from *enter alma mater here*?" I couldn't figure out if it was a dig (hey I don't really remember you) or if it was just a natural reaction - like, REALLY?

And there was chit chat a bit and all the while, I could FEEL it. That same feeling I used to feel when I was heartbroken, distraught and thought the world unfair because I was deeply in love with someone who wouldn't give me the time of day anymore. (In the end, it turned out he told his momma about me and she said that she couldn't be in his life if he was gay, so he dropped me because he didn't wanna lose his momma. How the hell do you break through that? You don't ... that's how) Except, it was way less intense. But it was there.

And I've heard it said before that you always remember your first - but this shit is fucking with me. Remember the bike messenger? CLEARLY this isn't on my mind 24/7, or even at all some 12 years later ... but the interaction made me remember.

Does that make sense?

Seriously, I sent a friend request and perused his pictures. Nothing. None of that desire to stare at his pictures like I used to when I was a confused little jack with no real understanding of my sexuality and no real outlet to discuss it with anyone. Nope.

Just a look at a few pictures and me thinking, "this nigga need to eat."

But that "something" is there and I'm having trouble putting to words what that something is. Like, I think if I dwelled on it I could conjure up those emotions I felt, because I felt them so strongly and for so long that, yuh - I'm pretty sure I could do it again. But I've no real desire to do so, only a desire to investigate this enigmatic emotion that makes absolutely no logical sense to me.

It's just so weird. I guess he looks the same - considering I haven't even seen an image of him in his 20s. He was 19 then ... he's 30 now. But, seriously, he needs to eat.

Interestingly enough he mentioned that my kids are beautiful ... letting me know that he commnuincates still with my ex-wife (we all went to college together) ... and yes, she knows he's my ex. In fact, that's her ex too.

I know - such drama. But that was 12 years ago and so not worth rehashing. I was involved in so much drama back then that it's no wonder I pretty much stick to my own. For all the stories JACK has ... I'm really a homebody.

I'm serious. Ask the couch.

That's where I am usually.

Oh, and I'm getting a new couch on Saturday. I can't wait. I'll have to break it in with some mvoie night with the babies.

And yes - they really are beautiful.

(And yes, I'm raelly not sure I should have opened this can of worms)

Fried Catfish

Three things have made me reconsider my decision to quit this fucking blog.

1) JADED referred to JACK in her post today. And I kinda wondered how the hell she was going to refer to me if I killed off JACK. And I'm too big a part of her life to just be ousted. So I can't oust me, can I?

2) A recent blog follower explained that his bouts with accepting his sexuality are prevalent right now - he's a young man and in that confused/how will society accept me/does god really want this, etc. phase of a young gay man's life and he said that he appreciates my blog and I wonder if there are other people out there who actually appreciate my blog ...

3) I had further dealings with this mother fucker and I'm sitting here stewing about my own stupidity. And really, why miss an opportunity to showcase my own stupidity.

The short version: we made plans to hook up tonight and he's communicated erratically with me all day. At 9:30 pm he tells me that his momma is hangin gout at his place and that she's just about to leave. Then *dead air*

Seriously - no WONDER it's going on 2 months since I've gotten laid. And even THEN it was some nigga I had to tap out - I didn't even bother to make sure he finished; he so wasn't worth the energy to just lay there.

I aim low - I've got a propensity to reach way down into the bottom of society's barrel - I manage to select fuckers who swim down near the bottom of the sea ... there're plenty of fish in the sea, yes - but it appears I'm attracted to catfish.

And dirty rice.

(Damn, I so want me some [andouille] sausage right now)

My Perfect Mate

You: light skinned or darker, 5'9" or taller, HPTW or within range, 7" or longer (but, Dear God, not MUCH), Associates or better, 24 or older, 40 or younger, swagger or some semblance thereof.

You've got a pair of Tims and at least one suit jacket; Neither collects dust, and you can tie a tie. (Any knot will do)



Orange is orange, no matter the shade, and you never EVER call it tangerine ... or pumpkin.




You can dance - but you don't always throw down some cardboard everytime you hear 'your' song.



You can have mannerisms at times, viturally undetectable, but your purse NEVER falls out no matter how much you run your mouth.



SOME people know; not that it's any of their business, but they're your support system. You might wear a scarf if it's cold, but you don't own a boa. The only feathers you own are in that old triple fat goose no one knows why you still own. But you own it - fuck em. It fits.




You talk a good game, but you listen intently too. You can have a drink, or two or eight - but never need to crawl home or be dragged around by your arms. You speak your mind, but think before you do so ... and never use 'I'm just being honest' as an excuse to be rude and inappropriate. (Unless it's warranted - but then you don't need an excuse). You know that 'conversate' isn't a word and that 'literally' means, uh ... LITERALLY. (Seriously, your head was not 'literally' spinning around ... I don't care how crazy that mfer was driving you).




You know there's a God and give him his props ... but don't let church or denominational doctrine affect your direct link to Him.



You own a belt. You use said belt. Around your waist.



If I measure your waist ... your pants are somewhat close to that size. I'm the only one who sees your underwear - but you don't expect me to always have to be the one to wash them. I mean, I *will* ... but you manage to master the coalescence of detergent, water and washing machine.



(If you already didn't know what it meant, you're looking up the word "coalescence")

You're handy around the house and if the gutters are full of crud you don't scream like a bitch when we reach into them to clean 'em. And ... I cannot stress this enough ... You have your friends, and I have mine. You like my company but don't need to be 3 and a half inches from my face all day. Because, baby ... I'm a need some space too. Thanks.

The Truth is ...

... that I am post-dating this entry, and you may or may not read it. I'm not sure if I'm looking for advice or not. Truth be told, sometimes I just LIKE to wallow in disappointments. And I'm totally aware that that's because my life has been riddled with them since childhood (since the womb, but that's a totally different issue) and it's one of those things that's become commonplace - that sense of almost there, but never arriving ... as if my life is asymptotic to the threshhold to happiness. I'm ever close, but never there.

And deep down inside there brews a recent disappointment - a dude I really liked, who seemed to really like me and then who seemed to have fallen into a black hole somewhere, contacting me less and less and then not at all. In true JACK form, I made contact and texted this:

"am I EVER going to see you again? You've been avoiding me like I'm some sor tof plague"

"I'm sure we will - honestly, I've been getting to know this really cool dude for the past two weeks."

I really needed that. I had to just know it - just hear it - just read it. But the thing that sticks out is that timeline. You met "this really cool dude" AFTER you met me, considering we've been speaking for a couple of months. That part sucked ass. But, I'm grown and totally accept it. I'm not trying to be no fool for no nigga ... so, he's out my phone, BEEN off my buddy list and deleted all emails. It's just easier if it's out of sight.

Anyone ever do that? Or is it just me? I mean, remember back in the day when warner brothers had that series of cartoons that had this floating hand with a pencil eraser in it and it would just erase parts of the scene? Like, Daffy Duck would be talking, and then the pencil would erase his beak. I loved those cartoons. And I SO want one of those erasers.

But before I digress too far - although the issue itself is what it is and I can handle it (hell, I done broadcast to all ya that it happened) the thematic elusiveness of the things that could make me happy annoys the fuck out of me. It's not that situation per se, not it alone. Because since then I've considered that I've gained weight that I need to lose and I was where I wanted my ideal weight to be and I let that go ... that I used to be credit card debt free but that the last 18 months have been a strain ... and that isn't so anymore.

The list goes on and on and I am trying REALLY hard not to wallow. I have been jovial as FUCK at work today ... had people laughing all day (see yesterday's post - LAWD did I get a lot of mileage out of that) ... and all I can do is ignore that nagging reality that sits there in the periphery of my days ... this sucks.

But ain't no nigga done give me my joy - and no nigga can take it away.

(Even if I have to fake it til I make it)

So, tell me - for real - am I the only one?

Size queens are crazy

I never understood size queens. I prefer my men to be of human proportions - that is, human-sized dicks are best fit for ... well, HUMANS. Especially for us humans without birth canals.

Birth canals are perfectly designed to handle those gi-normous, superhuman dicks > 9" long. And then girth?!? Dear LAWD - without a birth canal, girth is just plaing annoying.

Now, I've seen a birth canal morphe into some elastic band of rubber to accomodate the shoulder-to-shoulder width of a 7lb. 12oz infant (Why women fear the crowning of the head is beyond me - there's not been such a parting as that of a birth canal accomodating the shoulders of an infant since that Moses raised his staff over the red sea.)

My philosopy stands - I am *NOT* a size queen ... and I absolutely REFUSE to sit on a dick that makes a standard flashlight look like a AA battery.

unless he's the 6'4" inch, intelligent, charming, funny conservative nigga I had lunch with yesterday.

I had a nice time on my date with Mr. $299 for a Mattress, but you know my propensity to find something to be critical of, right? (OMG, you're thinking ... JACK actually knows this about himself? Yes, I do) So, the mattress broke the deal there and so I had to tell him that the chemistry wasn't there and we needed to hang out just as friends.

299 was gracious about it. He didn't need to know that I had already had a lunch date with 6'4 ... and that I invited 6'4 to my place last night ... really, it was superfluous information and really not something he needed to know.

And so 6'4 comes on over - see, it turns out that a couple of years ago he and I were actually chatting online, but never met. And that at the time we were both living in Indianpolis. And now, we happen upon each other again and when we connected on yahoo IM, we realized that we knew each other ... although we never met in person. And we now both live in the same part of town in Chicago ... during lunch, we talked about how weird it was and he looked at me coyly and said, "maybe it's fate."

"MAYbe," I said smiling.

FAST FORWARD TO THE EVENING

So, I get to the unveiling - and when I pull down his sweatpants (and OH. MY. GAWD. Do I love a man in sweats!) ... there I find out ...

Good God Almighty - this thing is ENORMOUS.

My usual response at this point is to ask, "um, what you gon' do with THAT?" Because, um - I'm no size queen. And this isn't going any further. But I didn't, although I did react ... and he DID notice.

THIS nigga wanna say, "I'm sorry it's small - it's all I got."

I roll my eyes and say, "Hush it up."

... and since my title pane CLEARLY says this blog is rated "R," thems all the details I'm spilling. But suffice it to say, It's 12 hours later and this Kool-Aid smile of mine has not subsided and shows no sign of doing so because he texted me this morning to say, "I meant to say last night was soooo good."

Yes. Yes it was.

Strangest thing

If you've followed my blog, you know that I had this sorta weird battle with wanting a relationship. It's weird because it seemed beyond my control, like it was some innate desire that I really couldn't explain. It made no sense in the context of my life because I live in one city, work in another, am a full time dad every weekend and am working on my master's degree and where the hell am I going to fit in time to work on a relationship?

And I do mean work. I don't buy into that theory that relationships shouldn't take work. Kiss my ENTIRE ass. I have to work at my relationship with my own mother - of COURSE I've got to work on my relationship with some nigga who isn't even blood. Gimme a break - that whole fairy tale, perfect "throw-down-your-hair-and-I'll-come-save-you" lives in the Magic Kingdom. Ever wonder why it's called "MAGIC Kingdom?" Because it's a fake place, bitchezz - it's where we keep the tooth fairy, and Santa and Leprechauns with pots of gold at the end of rainbows. People, the idea of a relationship that doesn't take work is about as real as Iraq's weapons of mass destruction.

So, what the fuck? Obviously, I've purposefully busied my life in order to not have to deal with the bullshit of feeling lonely and that I needed a man to fill my time. I get that and I own it. But how the fuck could I be wanting very thing I'm busying myself not to need? Ugh - it's been crazy.

Anyway, I got through it. By being a whore. That's right - I admit it. There's no time for the full fledged relationship that I apparently somehow wanted so I took to being a p-i-m-p (euphemism for whoring) and then got it out of my system. I realized that in the past few weeks I really haven't felt the urge to go out and sit on a dick. It's just kinda ... gone. Gone like the myriad of condoms done been folded in napkins, tissue or whatever. (Because you know there's ALWAYS gon' be condoms, right? If you read my blog and don't use condoms, even so much as neglected to use a condom ONE time ... don't tell me. I'll come unglued. It's. Just. Not. SMART!)

So what happens? I meet someone. We meet at starbucks. starbucks throws us out at 9pm cuz they closing. fuckers. so we sit in his car and just talk. Seriously, just TALK.

That's totally fine by me - as I said ... the whole sit-on-a-dick bit is out of my system and I'm good with just talking.

Next night we go out to dinner. We kiss, hold hands, kiss, blah blah blah. But no sex. Second date and no sex. We just simply have a nice time.

But then it hits me ... wait a minute. I'm DATING!

WTF?! I'm obviously not averse to it, but I get to the point that I'm not even thinking about anything serious ... and I start dating. He texts me and calls me and we chat daily, even if just for 15 minutes. And the words of one of my favorite people EVER resound: "if you're not careful you'll end up in a healthy adult relationship."

DAMMIT ANON! You're in my fucking head with that shit. DAMMIT!

I'm fairly certain that he and I will have rounded third base and slid home before my next post.

(tee hee - "slid home" I'm funny)

Stay tuned and let's see where THIS shit goes. For the first time in a long time I have no real expectations and am seriously just seeing where things go ... averse to nothing and expecting nothing at the same time.

(omg - SLID HOME! LMAO)

*ahem*

SAFE!