Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Tales from the Hood: The Sequel That Shouldn't Have Been

**Author's note** Everyone keeps asking where I've been...well, I'm right here, just been super busy. It seems my professional writing has taken over these days and most of my creative juices are being splayed on AOL Black Voices, Hello Beautiful, News One, Urban Daily and the like. I can't complain though, it's pretty awesome and there are some major things in the works for B, which excites me to no end. It's exactly what I wanted to happen, so YIPPY! But I will do my best to continue bringing B into your lives with my crazy blog, but forgive me if a few days pass without a blog going up. It's usually because there's stuff on other sites. So get it in with me there when we aren't here! xoxo***

So, Trey is gone. Out the picture. But he's still in the same museum, lurking, observing, dropping in from time to time to jack my life up and throw my little universe off it's axis. He calls and leaves messages saying he loves me and misses me. He sends me random pictures of him in the club with the title: I want you back. And on the nights when he's out drunk, he calls me, and calls me, and calls me, and calls me repeatedly, over and over until he either gets the point or passes out I assume.

I don't really know what to do. I'm seeing someone new. He's a great guy. He's sweet and fun and fucking normal. He isn't out of his mind. He doesn't have a record, he isn't ridiculously intense to a point that he drives me up and down and all over crazy. And yet, I can't full get into him because I can't get over Trey. I've told Trey to stop calling. I've told him to leave me alone, to let me get over him, to keep it moving, but he doesn't. Or he does for a week, right to the point that I feel life find it's rhythm without him in it and as only men magically do, he calls "out of nowhere." How do they know when the power is starting to shift away from them, that their grasp is loosening on our hearts. They somehow have a sixth sense for that shit and they call or come back immediately, tightening their grip, ruining the semblance of regularity.

I hate him and yet I'm still so hopelessly missing him. It's sort of stupid. It pisses me off that he won't just go away or that I can't answer his calls, talk to him like a normal human being. You're wondering why I don't just answer? Well, the last time I did, he went on and on about how much he loved me, asked me to come back to him, quit my life and be in his basically. He was quiet and sincere, choked up and growly in his voice. It was the worst conversation. He kept asking me why I wouldn't tell him I loved him too. I kept telling him I just wanted to make sure he got home safely, that I'd stay on the phone with him til his drunk ass got home. It's draining. It's like the drain in a bathtub and all my energy just gets sucked right down and out. This is why I can't answer. Why I have to do the ignore thing that I hate so much. I hate when men do it to women. I find it rude and even more, cowardly. And yet, I'm doing it to Trey. But in my defense it's because he's just too much to do deal with. And I want to give the new guy a solid chance. I want to date a normal guy, leave my thug love tendencies behind me. There's a line in this song and it goes: "Passion is fine, but passion burns fast. Passion's design seems never to last. Better a match, better a blend. Who needs a lover, I need a friend." This many sound depressing, but it's true. Right now, I need easy, honest, relaxing, a guy who's just as much a friend as he is the guy I'm romantically involved with. I need balance and for goodness sakes, NORMAL. Trey is the exact opposite, so I have to keep him at bay, keep it moving on my end and hope he gets the memo and goes off to ruin someone else's love life.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo
Blackie Collins

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Pots and Kettles

A few days ago, I had a really annoying conversation. But we have to go back to the beginning to understand why the conversation was so irritating. About 5 years ago, I went on a date with a guy I’d known in college. We’ll call him Russ. Russ was older than me and apart of a group of guys that all knew my cousin, who was older than me (their age) and much more like a sister than a cousin. Said group treated me like their little sister when I cam on campus, but much like the little sister growing up theory, Russ and I reconnected 5 years ago and recognizing a certain connection decided to go out. Well our first date turned into quite a story, which I can’t all the way share because it turns out a lot of people are interested in who Blackie really is and if I tell the story in true detail, quite a few will guess it quite easily. We aren’t there yet, especially with some of the kettles in B’s fire.

At any rate, the date was an epic first date and to this day, I’ve never had that kind of immediate knowledge that this person was IT. I don’t know what it is that clicks when you feel like you’ve met your match, but it is the only time I’ve experienced, which says a lot for all the relationships I’ve been in. It’s like a drug; you keep chasing that feeling, that high, for all your life until you either rediscover it or find something equal or better. I specifically remember thinking, very shortly after our first date, that I was going to marry him. I even called my mother and told her. I was also just out of college, young and na├»ve, so take that for what it’s worth. So, fast forward to it’s end. It ended really oddly. He was studying for his medical boards, holed up in a house upstate, preparing. We talked all day every day, we talked about everything from daily check-ins to the future. Things were pretty solid. I sent him care packages and egged him on to study and succeed. He supported me in the things I was doing. Then one day, he said it was crunch time and he needed to really dig in for the upcoming (a few weeks) test. He called me from the house line, cut off his cell and studied for hours. Of course in hindsight, that was probably about 60% true. I’ve always been taught: when a man isn’t giving you his attention, he’s giving it to someone or something else-more than likely someone. A few days into the new quieter “relationship,” I went out with a common friend. During this meeting, his phone rang, and a quick reactionary glance at his phone’s screen showed it was Russ’ CELL PHONE. “Oh, it wasn’t turned off?” I asked? “Why would be it be turned off?” he responded and then immediately realizing that he might’ve just put himself in a tizzy, tried to back pedal. I didn’t need much else, I knew it was on the downslide officially. In the following weeks, Russ gave me ridiculous explanations, complete with an email that said, in the most unattached, corporate language, he “didn’t think this particular merger was going to work.” He said I had certain insecurities he wasn’t sure he was in a place to deal with. I couldn’t fathom what he was talking about, but I said, ok, fine. See ya. I’ve seen him several times since and each time, he tells me how great I look, flirts, etc. One time, he came home with me, but I decided it wasn’t a good idea and he left. He’s probably still salty about that. Oh well.

So that brings us to now. The conversation I had with one of my good guy friends, who also happens to be super close to Russ as well. In the conversation, he mentioned something that I hadn’t told him: a person I’d messed around with off and on during our college years. I asked how he knew about it, he said he’d heard from Russ. Russ had just been in town for a guys weekend and my friend apparently brought me up (because he loves me oh so much) and Russ responded by talking about when we dated and saying the real reason he cut things off was because he couldn’t go somewhere serious with someone who’d been with a guy he was really really close with. So he basically dumped me because of my “relationship” with college boy.

Here’s where I get pissed. Double standards have never been my thing. It is completely unfair that men get away with things women can’t even put their finger on without being labeled negatively. I cannot tell you the number of guy friends who have the same chicks in common. It’s absolutely ridiculous that it’s okay for them but not for us. The fact that you’d cut off something that was so obviously AWESOMELY RIGHT because of your ego makes you not the man I thought you were, Russ, and I swear I’m two and a half men away from outing you on this blog, but that’s not my style and not the point.

Six degrees of separation is more like two or even one or none in most worlds, and it’s virtually impossible to not at the very least have crossed paths with someone in common. It’s just impossible. I’m not saying you should change your morals or whatever, but man are you throwing those stones mighty hard for someone with a glass address.

That bitch stole my line,

Xoxo

Blackie Collins