I left you last with some recent communication I had with a suspected great guy who was possibly blowing me off. We’ll call him ‘Vapes.’ I haven’t yet disclosed that he vaped because I think it’s a bit silly. People walking around, puffing on some big ole kazoo thing, with a ploom of tutti frutti smoke all around them, assessing their liquid level and whatnot. It’s odd and it makes my central nervous system cause my eyes to roll.
Picking up where we left off… After a few good dates followed up by some sporadic conversation on his end, I was getting the vibe Vapes wasn’t crunching on me.
I asked him if he just wanted to be friends. He wrote, “It’s not like that. We can talk.” What the hell did that mean? Emphasis on the question mark. I asked him such and days later he replied, “I’m saying we should talk about our relationship,” and also added “sorry for the late reply. School is busy.”
I felt like relationship was a bit strong, seeing as we hadn’t communicated for days. I’d venture to say that I have a better relationship with my sister’s dog, who licks his browneye before licking my hand when I visit him. His name is Traks Ballshead – I thought it necessary to give him a middle name whilst formally yelling at him.
I told Vapes that I’d be up for chatting and asked when a good time would be. A few days passed and I didn’t hear back. I was pretty frustrated. As my 2 year old niece Chucky Doll would say, he was acting like a “real butthole.” Ps. I have to refer to my niece by the nickname I gave her because my sister has the paranoia real bad.
I’ve been working on improving my communication skills lately, while trying not to be sarcastic, cheeky or demanding. I decided to outright ask for what I needed. I told him I had worked hard to get to a moderately not-fucked up place in my life and that I needed to stay un-fucked up. In order to do that, I was looking for a mutual relationship in which both peops made an effort for each other and that was not how things were feeling with him.
He replied, “I feel like you’re prepared for something I’m not capable of right now. I’d still like to hang out if you want to. But I don’t think I can give you more of what you want.”
Bam! Because he knew how he felt and was honest enough to tell me. That was refreshing as hell. I’m also trying to approach people with the notion that most are trying the best they can in life, so I believe him when he says he’s incapable right now. It hurts my feelings a bit because I’m sensitive AF, but I will really appreciate that shit in a few weeks.
He later said, “I think you’re a really good person and I enjoy being around you.” (Clearly he doesn’t read my blog. Nor will he ever. I sold my ass out once to a dude I dated and I had to wait 3 months to talk shit about him on here.)
After some discussion, Vapes ended up telling me that ever since one rando shitbag gal cheated on him, he’s felt empty inside. And I recognize that emptiness. I felt that way for months after the bottom feeder I was dating for a year cheated on me. Emptiness is extremely painful. It is also a good indicator that there is a disproportionate allocation of self-love and value in your life.
When Bhole cheated on me, my sense of self-esteem, worthiness, value and safety were lost. I even thought part of my future went with him too. A fucking garbage guy who wore bedazzled jeans and still had bilateral ear piercings (outfitted with cubic zirconia) at age 36. Eyeroll.
While I was busy sportin’ the look in our relationship, he was repping a wife beater and had Fubu articles in his closet. FYI, Fubu means For Us By Us and is a clothing line created by black people. Bhole was a flaming ginger. It goes to show you that my future back then, was going straight into the shitter.
I thank God everyday that He allowed me to make a different future for myself, one where I wouldn’t continue to empty myself on some loser. White trash never would’ve looked good on me anyway.
Now with the swipe of a middle finger, I get to decide who I want to have in this new future of mine.
When I came across a shirtless guy wearing extremely short cut-off jeans with a large carpenter belt, I thought I may have found him. He was posed in the photo with his arms folded across his chest and had a hammer, box cutter and nail pouch all hanging off of him. I sent this dream man’s picture to a text chain of lady relatives and my cousin Amber replied: “His nuts and bolts could fall at any time.”
Yep, that’s the life I want right now. Precarious clothing choices. Topless gym shots, with or without a cirrhosis tan, and some flexing. Homemade selfies in a toothpaste-spattered bathroom mirror of a dirty apartment. Guys who use Instagram fairy filters and leave me wondering if they would share my make-up bag if I were dating them.
Then I come across some attractive guys holding their niece while dancing at a wedding or kneeling next to their grandma sitting in a recliner and I remember there still may be potential out there for me. Buried underneath all the photos of drunken guys with wandering eye.
Hopefully they’ll be sweet, have nice teeth and make me laugh, but are at a place in their life where they can reciprocate caring about someone else. I’ve done one-sided friendships and relationships and I don’t have the cojones to invest in a nil-return situation no mo.
I’m beginning to see I have a lot to offer, to the right person. It’s just that I have to remember that. If I go chasing every Tom, Dick, Harry and Beak (as my mom’s old “foreign” boss Mr. Jadu used to say) that looks my way, I’m going to enter a world of hurt.
Until next time friends, I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for straight-teethed, emotionally available guy named Beak.
One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time. • Andre Gide, fearless truth seeker •