Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Breaking Eggs

No clue what the hell is going on, but the last 48 hours have been insane. It started out Sunday. I was working, when a cute temp from another location came in. We locked eyes and he was a hottie. I asked his age and he said 25. I knew I couldn't do it. Lord knows I wanted to, but he was far too young and I couldn't stand to be known as the woman that only dates far younger men. Long story short, I found out he's related to the young guy I'm already dealing with. Ouch. And ew.

I texted my young friend about it and he laughed. I couldn't believe it. What are the odds that the cute new stranger that I'm batting eyes at is related to my youngin? I couldn't deal. I told a girlfriend of mine, who is familiar with my relationship with Youngin, and she giggled and started singing "Its a Small World Afterall." I'm still in shock. A part of me felt like it meant something. I mean what are the odds? But if so, what? What was it telling me?

Fast forward to the next day, where I attended a meeting with my counselor. Fred was kind enough to drop me off at school while he used my car to run errands, leaving me there with her to sort through my emotions. I was having a small conflict with some classmates over an assignment, and although not a big deal, while discussing it with her, I realized that the conflict was closely related to issues stemming from childhood. The fact is that my default when dealing with conflict is to shut down. I don't have a middle mode on it. And if you don't respect me shutting down, I explode and go off. Its true. And its unhealthy.

While talking to my counselor, I also talked about Fred and his visit. She was surprised that I hadn't mentioned him earlier and said that while he's pretty and shiny, he's filler. He and I can never be married and I know it. But dammit, he's so sexy. Got an ass you can bounce quarters off of. He's smart and funny. My son loves him. But still, it ain't happening. Nevertheless, I went in talking about about a small tiff with my classmates, only to discover that I can't deal with conflict, back to bullshit from my sisters. What the incredible hell? The counselor also said that I revert to childlike nature when I'm conflicted. SHIT. Last week, I said to her "I'm a mess." She looked at me and blinked. She didn't say "no, Malika, you're fine, everyone has issues." Nope, she allowed me to own it. Wow. I left out with a greater understanding of how deep my issues go. Not pretty, but workable.

 After class, I went out to meet not just Fred, but my bestie Sky as well. We were almost on the freeway when I asked Sky if he wanted a veggie wrap and he did, so off we went. We pulled up and I saw them. My ex's psychotic baby mama, and my former friend. My default was to shout out "FAT BITCH!" but I couldn't because it went against what I am now. But I was stunned. I stayed in the back seat and ducked until they'd pulled off. They saw me and if they didn't, they saw the tall nut job that is my bestie. Fred wondered why I'd ducked. Sky was confused and surprised. The good news that old girl looks a hot ass mess and the vehicle she's in shows that times are hard. Part of me wishes I'd stood there, looking good as hell. Weight loss, nice car (and its MINE!), hair twisted nicely, gotta admit, I was pulled together. And my ass ducked. Why? All I could do was wonder what was in the air. Sky and I laughed about the oddness of it all. Fred wondered which was my ex's baby mama. I told him the big one. He tried to be nice, but his face said it all. Wow. And not in a good way. Call it what you want, but I won. Fuck that. School, connections, look, health, and room for growth. Kind of cathartic to think of it that way.

While there at the veggie shop, one of the admins at one of the schools in the Atlanta University Center who I had a brief with, tryst showed up 20 minutes after we arrived. Odd as hell. He and I hugged and chatted briefly. He looked nice. But it was getting to be a lot to take in. While at the veggie spot, I told Sky the things my counselor had pointed out to me. I told him I think I'm bad at conflict. "Duh" was his response. I told him that she said that I revert to childlike behavior when I'm conflicted. He reminded me that my apartment has become one giant coloring book. Dear God. I told him she allowed me to call myself a mess. He nodded in agreement. It was really starting to sink in. That same night, I was sick as hell. Vomiting and all. I rarely throw up. What the freak is going on?

The next morning, I started to really think. If I'm broken and looking for filler, maybe Fred is too. Maybe that's our connection, that we're both broken and its easier to be with one another loosely and accept our broken selves than to fix him. I know a bit of Fred's history, but not much. But damn, he's broken too. Him? Him. I spoke to him about it, and we acknowledged yet again how we could never marry. He's hung up on someone and there are things about his character that while I love, it could not be the man I'd need long term.

So I can only imagine what else awaits me. I'm big on signs and I think its incredible that all of these strange things are happening at the same time. I think the counseling is opening up something and ts something that I need. Definitely uncomfortable, but you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. This better be one hell of an omelette.

Friday, March 25, 2016

Sexual Energy

Those magical words were uttered again, in reference to my- well my... something. I was on the phone with a fellow I'd met about a year ago. We met online and hung out a few times. He lived in south Georgia at the time, were he was in school, but he's since graduated and moved back up north. He'd disappeared for a few, which was fine because school keeps my head in the books anyway, but he recently reappeared.

We chatted about life and he said he'd like to see me again, and said he'd possibly fly me to see him. I'm always up for a free trip and I trust him not to murk me and leave my body in a ditch, so hey, bring it on. As we talked, he mentioned something I've heard a few times before. He said that I have "sexual energy" that he's really drawn to. The odd thing is that this is certainly not the first time I've heard those words or even felt it. Early last fall, as I started the training for my internship with many younger men, I caught my energy slipping on out and I was warned by Ted that I should reign it in before I started giving off milf vibes to the fellas. And although I did bring it in and ended up in a brother/sister relationship with many of the guys, there was still one younger gentleman on campus that got caught up in my web.

So my new friend speaking those words made me start wondering if perhaps I'm more sexual than I'd ever given myself credit for. I had drinks with colleagues recently and the topic of magic numbers was brought up. I said my number (after swearing I wasn't lying), and was told by my cohorts that they'd assumed that my number was nearly double what it actually is. What the entire hell?! Thankfully my relationship with those friends has long since crossed the line of being personal and not professional so I could do was laugh and assure them that I wasn't the raging whore that people assume me to be.

But still, here is a man that's only spent sporadic time with me, who picked up on what so many other men have picked up on as well. I ooze sexuality when I don't mean to. I sometimes post pics on Facebook that get all kinds of likes, winks, and sexually explicit comments (lord knows I appreciate them) when truthfully I don't see what others see. My male bestie, Sky, suggested that I have as much sexual energy as any other woman, its just that I'm comfortable with myself sexually which is intriguing and turns men on. With that statement, I had to relinquish him from the conversation because I could see him wanting to drink bleach as we talked about my sexuality.

As we make this beautiful transition into spring I'm wondering if I should play with my looks more to see what I can pick up on. Not that I'm trying to attract anyone anyway, as my schedule doesn't allow for much anyway. But still.

Monday, March 7, 2016

On Being Held Again

I've written at length about my time with Fred. How much he meant to me and how he's helped me through some hard times. I've also touched on how freakishly sexy he is. Crazy thing is that despite it all, what amazes me most is how much he's mine. He may be on the other side of the country, but I'm in a special place in his heart and that amazes me. It shouldn't though. I'm certainly old enough to know that looks only determine a small amount of where, who, or what a person is. But it never ceases to amaze me to  know that someone as good-looking as he is manages to be drawn to plain old me.

I've been having a hard time lately, as I've had to deal with not having anyone of substance around. My 23-year-old "friend" is still around but at times I have to remind myself that he's still a kid. He's also busy as hell, as am I so although I see him regularly on campus, our time is fleeting. The other guy I liked on campus actually had a girlfriend that I'd learned about through a 3rd party, so his ass was exed. Briefly thought that Ted and I would be rekindling things, but that turned out to be a bust as well. Granted, I still got quality sex, on occasion, but I missed being held. Not just held, but loved.
I missed rolling around in sheets with a man that loves and knows me. Penis can be found anywhere, but to find a man that understands and deals with my quirks isn't easy.

Last month, I guess the winter weather got to me. I had a few extra dollars and I figured I'd take the plunge and go see Fred. I didn't want sex. I needed to be held, and I was willing to go to the opposite coast just for that purpose. I texted Fred in the middle of the night and told him that I'd be flying to see him in March. He responded that he'd be in Atlanta in March and that he couldn't wait to see me either. My heart was aflutter. Fred? Here? He was here a year ago for the first time in nearly 4 years, and to see him a mere year later seemed like a dream.

I tried numerous times to clean my home to the specification of an important house guest, but the fact is that working, motherhood, school, interning and extracurriculars at school make cleaning nearly impossible. But still, I tried. The night he got in, I came in a few minutes before him, hoping to get things together even more. He called me and asked me to come outside and flag him down so he'd know what apartment I was at. I ran to the door and there he stood.

I hugged him like my life depended on it. There he was. Not a pic in my phone, not a Facebook image, him, in the flesh, hugging me back as tight as I hugged him. He came in, settled his items and took a shower. I lay down, and he lay down right next to me. I ran my fingers through his curly, damp hair and held his hand. I felt my soul seep back into my body. In that moment, he wasn't that fine ass dude I've drooled over for over a decade, he was the man I loved tremendously. In that moment, we shared a single bond and a single moment. Its almost like we were one person. I happened to have a playlist of some of my fave chill music, and Tevin's "Always in My Heart" spun in the background. Despite the song being over 20 years old, it was then that the song took on a true meaning. I giggled and said to him "this is our new song" as a candle flickered in the background.

Crazy enough, we weren't even having sex.  We literally just sat there, next to one another. As his back faced me and I wrapped my arms around him, I gave him a peck on his back and whispered, "I love you." "I love you back" he said as he tapped my arm.

And that was all I needed. To be rejuvenated again. To be held and loved and appreciated and adored. And not by a guy that's just good-looking, but by a man who met me at my worst, but stuck with me. A man that knows my soul. A man that not only lets me hold him, but a man that anxiously wants to hold me back. I've held and loved. That was all I needed.