Monday, December 28, 2009

Having His Cake and Eating It Too

Last night, I went to visit with my cousin, who had just given his fiance a ring. My cousin pulled me aside and started to talk about my situation with Pookie. He suggested that I stop letting him do his thing on the side. I completely understand where he was coming from, but unfortunately I'm in a bit of a rut.

First off, until I find a decent job, my little Pumpkin and I are financially dependent on him. That's really not my first choice and I've got a few projects that I'm working on, but for right now, it is what it is. Second, Pookie went straight from his mother's home, to his ex-wife's home, to being here with me and the little one. I was fortunate enough to spend most of my twenties as a young fabulous party girl. I lived alone, I traveled, I went to college, I worked and paid my own bills, I met and dated fabulous men. Pookie never really got that chance. Perhaps I am selling myself short, but I understand how much he missed out on and I feel bad about that. Maybe if he weren't so good looking and charming he wouldn't have women clinging to him the moment he stepped out of the house. Believe me, women are drawn to him like flies to shit.

My cousin pointed out the obvious truth, which is that Pookie and I have an emotional attachment to one another. We escort one another to family functions, we do "adult stuff" together, we share our innermost thoughts. We may not be in a committed relationship, but we're definitely committed in other ways.

On the flip side, today I called him at work, simply to tell him that I love him and he replied with "I've got to get back to work." Ouch. Would have been so hard to have replied with a simple "thank you"? Now that's the kind of shit that makes me say that I want out!

What hurts so much about that is that before Pookie, I dated a lot of men. After I gave birth to Pumpkin, about 5 of my old flames hit me up and confessed to me that they'd hoped that they'd be the one to give me a child. My friends used to call me a "food whore" for my willingness to drive to the other side of town to take my man food at work. Pookie even enjoyed that luxury while I was pregnant and working. I've always given awesome back massages. I'm funny. I'm great company. When I have money, I don't mind paying my own way or even paying a guy's way. When I consider myself to be with a man, there isn't much I won't do for him. I am far more submissive to a man than many people realize. And what most women don't see is that men love that. Men love coming home to hot meals. They love a woman that will hit the gym just for them. Men loved the special treatment.

So how did I go from being the woman that men sought, to being with a guy that can't even appreciate a kind word in the middle of his work day?

While I truly don't consider myself a gold digger, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't appreciate what he does for me. I see how much so many other women lose sleep as they figure out which bill has priority. On the flip side, I sleep until noon. My son is so close to his father. It warms my heart every time I see them tossing the basketball or wrestling on the floor. I'm so fortunate to be a housewife.

The Women's Lib Movement really effed up things. Suddenly, if you're blessed to have a man that is able to pay bills, you're a lazy gold digger. Let me set the record straight on that. The reason I moved in with Pookie was so that I could finish my last few classes of college. At the time I got pregnant, I only had about 7 classes to go before I got my degree. My goal was to get a job so that could get a good job to take care of me and my Pumpkin with little to no help from his father. My other goal was to get a job so that I could support Pookie while he finished up school, just like he'd done for me. That doesn't make me a gold digger, that makes me a woman that is appreciative.

Recently, some bitter ass female relatives with horrible track records with picking losers were trying to talk smack about me living with Pookie. What's so funny is that my father and uncle both agree that me living with the father of my child is what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. Somehow, Black women have gotten it twisted to where many of them look down on those of us that do what we have to do to keep our families together. I'm not knocking anyone that chooses to be a single mother, so why knock me for choosing to keep my family together? Why is it that White women are considered "stay at home moms" while Black women are "lazy" and "gold diggers"?

So anyway, I'm in a rut. I love Pookie and I love having my family together. Some days I'm in heaven. Other days, I just want to be left the hell alone. Perhaps Pookie is having his cake and eating it too. Perhaps I am taking advantage of the situation. Perhaps I should just move out. Perhaps we should just get married. Perhaps both of us know that getting married is a big mistake. I don't know. But I do know that one way or another, things can't continue on like this. Because I'd rather slit my freaking wrist than to have a half assed relationship with a man for 13 years and counting.

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