I’ve tried ventures that I wanted to try, but there is no real passion in anything to make me want to stick to it. Model management, , selling adult toys, babysitting, and baking and selling cookies have been fun, but I’m looking for more, greater. I get bored too quickly and it scares me when I start something that I will lose interest and give it up.

I thought I wanted to be a writer. I wrote a short story and it was received really well, so I decided to make it longer into a novel, but soon lost the passion for it and stopped writing. Since I’m single, I can’t find the sexiness I need to think about in order to complete it. I need a muse…I need a career path and I need to figure out what my legacy could be.

Her plan was to have another baby, yet she didn’t want it by a different father. She’s never been married, close to it, but the fights started and the relationship ended. She protected her child from the father thinking that he was out to harm her and the baby or just to kidnap the baby from her so she protected her identity for three years. After a few months of her sons third birthday, she decided to let him come back into their life…she had a plan…she wanted another baby. To his amazement, they were a family again…to hers was a hope of getting her family back as well as another baby. The first time of having sex after three years of being away from this man, she allowed him to not wear a condom. The following month came with no period..she succeeded! After the confirmation, the other woman showed up and she was done with this man once again.

Last year…

Last year we started talking again since Facebook became popular for a lot of our high school “friends”.  He spoke a lot about sex and I wasn’t trying to go there with him again without a commitment, so we went our seperate ways yet again.

Fast forward a few months…

So I met a guy on FB that I remembered from high school that was friends with the other guy. We had a great relationship until he decided he wanted to become celibate. The other guy told him he had been seeing one of my real friends and that he was digging her. I was fine with them dating, if it was true, but why didn’t she tell me about it? She and I had spoken about the guy plenty of times and she knew of our past. I decided that I needed to talk to her since it was weighing on my thoughts heavily about our friendship. She wouldn’t return my calls until one night she called me back. She was upset that I knew about them without telling her that I knew. I was shocked! Why should I have come to her first when she knew about me and the guy all along? I see our friendship wasn’t what I thought it was all along.

I met him on a Wednesday morning after ordering coffee at Dunkin Donuts. The splatter of paint on his face easily told his profession, or maybe his hobby. I asked him was he a painter, he smiled and replied, yes. We had a brief conversation and I said goodbye and left with my donut and coffee. Two weeks later, I had a need for coffee and I went to the same Dunkin Donuts…there he sat in the corner sipping on coffee and  eating a sausage sandwich. I didn’t say anything not knowing if he recognized me. He did. Good morning, he said while smiling. I spoke and to my amazement, he says, this is the second time, what’s up? I guess he was trying to say this was suppose to happen, but I quickly let the thought slide.  He introduced himself and asked was I involved. I hesitated with my response because the other guy and I had just broken up, or so I thought. No, I said. Can I get your number, he asked. I swear I just told myself to ward off men for awhile , but I told him yes we could talk, so I called his cell phone to give him the number.  We talked briefly the next day and it seemed like we were hitting it off even though there wasn’t a physical attraction on my part. I want to feel a physical attraction for a man if I’m going to give my number, but his personality won me over.

We talked a few more times in a few days, until…my ex called. We talked and he expressed not wanting it to be over and neither did I, so we are going to give it a chance. When my other Wednesday guy called, I let him know that my ex called and we were trying to work it out. He was cool with it although he was looking forward to our date this Saturday. I was too, but the connection that I have with my ex is so strong that I couldn’t play both sides. And I didn’t want to lead him on. He said good luck and for me to keep his number. I will not knowing what may happen with my ex. It’s only so much a person can take and I’m not into too much arguing, so we’ll see who will win in the end. Maybe I’ll lose both, but as long as I did the respectful thing and telling both the situation…I feel good.

I have to admit, I got caught up. Caught up in an illusion that I thought was real. He was perfect…perfect to me, so I thought. I met him online…on a site that I’ll leave nameless, that wasn’t specifically for dating. I talked to him briefly through instant messaging and emails. I’m a full-time grad student, I didn’t have time to just sit and chat. He held on and waited for me thinking that I was worth the wait. Classes were almost over when I saw a movie that gave me the feeling that love can pass me by if I continue to put it on hold. This guy was patient and I knew that I didn’t want to lose a possibly good thing. I decided to give in and take a break to finally respond wholeheartedly to his messages.

We talked about a month before actually meeting in a public place. He was so handsome. His height was perfect, he smelled nice and his presence was comfortable. He said ALL the right things. I felt like I knew this man…I needed to know more about him…to know more about becoming his woman. His approach was very direct. He knew what he wanted in a woman and he knew and expressed repeatedly that I was her. I thought that maybe he was right, until…I got to really know him. This man was far from perfect for me. We argued with every conversation and then my conscious interrupted what I thought was real with a reminder that this was not the man for me. I knew I deserved better…but I chose to hang on. FOR WHAT?

I am not the type to deal with ordinary bullshit. I would let things go and not look back for anything, but this man had a hold on me and again I ask, FOR WHAT? I started to think I was desperate to be in love…that I wanted  love so badly that I looked at this man as the man I was suppose to love and was supposeto love me back. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I allow him to talk to me any kind of way? Why did I put up with it? Why after every argument, he would walk away and then call me two days later and I would take him back (five times)? Was I really desperate? Was my self-esteem so low that I accepted the first thing coming? Since I hadn’t been in a relationship in a few years, I have to think that maybe the answer is yes to all my questions. I finally had an awakening conversation with a friend that I cried the truth and that I was so lonely. That may not be enough to really explain my why questions, but that’s the answer that I accepted. I used my answer as my answer to a therapy session. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I needed someone there and I accepted what I was given. Once the realization hit me, being all educated and all , I decided enough was enough. It’s only so much a person can take and I finally let it go.

BOB and I met about 14 years ago on my way to a coworkers party in “Boystown” on the north side of Chicago. On the way, the group of women that I was with decided to dip inside one of the sex stores just to take a look. I’ve always had this fantasy of playing with and owning a “toy”, but felt a sense of embarassment. I walked around excited with all that I saw and was turned on thinking of all that could please me. I was seeing someone at the time, but he wasn’t hitting it like I wanted…I needed a little more attention and more stim-u-lat-tion! 

The orange gelatin dildo caught my attention. It was beautiful—veinous and about 7 inches and THICK…with a BOB inside! I would have to eat through the gelatin in order to offically meet him. I purchased him and took him to the party with me to show him off and to everyone’s delight, I gave him a little head and bit the tip off, LOL! The reaction from the men was hilarious. It was time to get BOB home!

My experience with BOB, which I still date every once in awhile, is one that I find amusing but the fact that I need him as a supplement to actual sex disturbs me. I still get a sense of guilt and embarrassment after all these years. I feel like someone is watching me. Is it a valid guilty pleasure or a guilt for sinning?

In the news last week was an accident that happened here in Chicago where a Black man was hit by a car and killed. The news says he was able to survive Iraq for nine months, but unable to survive walking across a busy street. It was like ordinary news until I heard the name, Howard____ from Evanston, IL. I was stunned because I recognized the name. I was introduced to him years ago by a dear friend. The shock came when I saw that he was engaged and she is white. Now don’t get me wrong, interracial couples don’t bother me at all, I don’t care who you love. I say follow your heart. It’s the conversation that I had with that “dear friend” who’s a Black man that’s married to a white woman, about Howard. I said aloud, “what’s up with you Black Evanston men”?  I asked my “friend” what was Howard doing on the south side. To my disbelief, he was with his mistress! She wanted something to eat and as he crossed the intersection and driver hit him and ran.

Now my friend was offended when I said it’s OK for him to screw a Black woman, but better to marry a White one. He retaliated with White women have different standards than Black women do. They have better morals, opportunities and they support their men when they are in a struggle. My tone raises two octaves—”how dare you offend me! I thought it was about love and not trying to find a woman to dig you out of the hole you’re in…You da man right?!” I asked how could he be so insulting because he knows that all Black women aren’t uneducated, unsupportive and we all don’t live in ghetto-dwellings, and most of all what makes him believe that they have better morals. He’s said he always knew that if he got married, he wanted to marry better. He wanted his kids to grow up in a diverse neighborhood, in good schools, with opportunuities that would allow them to know the best. He didn’t want them to grow up broke and afaid to walk outside. I’m like, so your telling me that to marry White, and have kids by a White woman makes you and them better? I added, why can’t you find all of that in a Black woman?  He said, “I can’t help who I chose to marry”. Not that he couldn’t help whom he chose to fall IN LOVE with, but whom to marry! I was too through. Mind you, he’s dated outside of his race forever. Growing up in a diverse neighborhood, he gives the reason why he thinks that he’s the way he is…his environment. How about Willie Lynch!

The nature vs. nurture controversy has been debated for years and to have him tell me that I was wrong in saying that I don’t beleive that everyone is a product of their environmet was deemed ignorant. He believes that where you grow up and what you see is definitely a reason to cause people to choose who they want to be around, where they want to live and whom they’ll want to marry.

Your thought?

How many times have you had a friend that dated a guy who you personally questioned, “why is she with him?” Or how many times have you asked yourself the question, “why am I with him?” Too many of us are so afraid of being alone that we find ourselves dealing with whatever card we’re dealt and look like fools for the sake of having, keeping, or getting a man.

My upstairs neighbor just can’t seem to get it right. Since I have lived beneathe her (less than a year), she’s had two men yell at her and then she screams, “please don’t go”. What the hell is that about? I mean, why is it necessary to run up behind a man and beg him to not leave? We need to stop giving in, giving up and giving away the energy it takes to make an unhealthy realtionship work. When we settle for less we are telling ourselves we aren’t worth having anything better than what we have.

What’s your thought?