Well…That Was Awkward!

It has been nearly 2 months since The One Who Soothed Me and I have been sexually intimate. We barely see each other but are cordial when we do. As you know, I am going back to college to pursue my master’s degree. Before I can enter the program, I need to take the Graduate Record Exam (GRE). Did I mention that this exam costs $186? Hopefully I can get a fee reduction, put it on lay-a-way or have the money fall from the sky somehow.

Anywho…

A good friend (and loyal reader I may also add) emailed me some GRE study guide e-books from  and I wanted to print out a few pages. I asked Soothed if I could print them from his computer and he obliged. I wanted to know when it would be an appropriate time to come over. He said that I could come at that precise moment.

I knocked on the door and he informed me that it was open. As I entered, our eyes met. Before I could approach his computer and utter a word, he looked directly across the room and said, “Nisha this is Courtney. Courtney this is Nisha.” There she was—a woman that I did not notice was standing off to the side when I entered his apartment. It wasn’t something that I was expecting and it completely took me by surprise.

The situation was so awkward. Why didn’t he tell me that he had company? I asked him if he was busy. And why did she have to be so pretty, so friendly…and so White? (If this is you’re unfamiliar with this blog and you’ve jumped to the ridiculous conclusion that I’m a racist, please read this post first.) The only thing that we had in common was that we were both full-figured women.

We shook hands and greeted one another. I apologized to them for showing up and interrupting but she insisted that it was okay. She also asked about the program that I was entering and gave kudos. Why did she have to be so nice? Why couldn’t she be one of those mean White women who clutched or quickly dashed to their purses whenever I passed them by at the store? (Unfortunately this has happened. Maybe it’s my afro or good ole down South racism. Welp.)

I wanted to hate her as much as I hated this situation! I wanted to cut off that long wavy blonde hair of hers and give it to some ratchet chick named Boom-de-la-she-qua in the hood. Gosh, I found it so hard to dislike her. Damn it!

Another part of me wanted to cry like a little b*tch and flee the premises. I cracked jokes to mask the awkwardness, shock and jealousy. It turned out that I didn’t have the freaking document saved to my jump drive (even more awkward) and he told me to email it to him instead. After an hour or so, he gave me the copies and told me that I was welcomed to print out more if necessary. We hugged and he was on his way back downstairs.

Why was I jealous? I know that I am not his type. I shouldn’t have been jealous. What is wrong with me? Do I have unresolved feelings? This absolutely makes no sense! I am shifting my focus from him and prepping for the GRE. F*ck him! F*ck men in general! I need to focus on me!

I Sure Know How To Pick ‘Em (Part II)

Intrigue wanted to see me. I had a date with him the week prior but I decided to cancel it last minute. I didn’t think it would be a great idea partly because I shifted my focus to the Lawyer. I also wasn’t too thrilled with the “I’m dating other women” bit. I was bored and I figured hanging out with him wouldn’t hurt. Besides, it would take my mind off the suddenly aloof Lawyer.

I prepared dinner and went to his place. We talked, watched a few episodes of an old-school comedy sketch show and laughed our asses off. We were also being playful and touchy feely. Then, he began to kiss me. He started at my forehead, kissed every inch of my face and made his way to my neck. It was so sensual. I felt so delicate pressed against him. I eagerly and passionately reciprocated. His soft kisses started a fire in me that the Lawyer didn’t provide. I was captivated. We didn’t have sex but those kisses were all the penetration that I needed. We ate our dinner and feel asleep after watching a couple of movies.

The next morning, we had an interesting conversation. Again, by interesting, I don’t mean butterflies and unicorns. The discussion was about him being with other women. Of course I knew that he dated other women. That was uncomfortably established a few weeks ago but the sting hurt less now because I was seeing someone else. He began to expand on the situation more. He has intentions on becoming a polygamist. He wanted to know if I could see myself adapting to his lifestyle. WTF?! I don’t recall seeing this tidbit on his OkCupid profile!

from http://www.picturesandjokes.com/

Here comes the brides. All dressed in white.

Dating multiple people is vastly different than a polyamorous union. Generally, when dating multiple people, one person is chosen in the end for exclusivity. The fact that his father is also a polygamist and has injected enough baby batter to make 150+ children floored me too. I truly felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. I wanted Calgon to take me away!

After getting over my initial bewilderment (as calmly as I could), I told him that I have been in situations in which I was aware of the other woman or was the other woman myself and I wasn’t willing to be a part of that again. I also told him about my extreme jealously and emotionality. Sure, it would make for a great blog but damn, how would I ever post if I were in a padded room rocking back and forth in a strait jacket?

He expressed that many men take up other lovers secretly but at least he was being upfront about his intentions. He also said that most women couldn’t handle the polygamous lifestyle and that being jealous and highly emotional is unhealthy. He even suggested that I look within to change those traits. In some ways, I can agree with that. I tend to let my emotions rule me and they have led to many regrettable decisions in my life. But with that being said, I wasn’t going to work on myself just to be in accordance with his lifestyle!

…And not these other b*tches!

There was a small part of me that briefly considered this arrangement in a moment of temporary insanity. It would incubate and sustain this love addiction of mine–until a next supplier of “love” came along. I want to belong to someone. I’m tired of being alone and finding myself in meaningless relationships. So what if I had to share? I’ve knowingly and unknowingly shared men before anyway. And besides, I don’t have much faith in monogamy. I’m also no spring chicken. I’m 32 and childless. Maybe I should just get in where I fit in before all my eggs shrivel up and roll out my vagina like a tumbleweed.

But then I began to think more logically. I do want someone to belong to me and only me. Although I am tired of being alone, I may feel even more alone when it’s time to share him with other women. It’s not like I ever wanted to be the other woman. I just found (and lost) myself in these situations. I did not have enough self-love to want or require more. Even though I don’t have much faith in monogamy, I would like to be proven wrong one day. Yes, I am 32 and childless but does that mean I have to settle for this particular arrangement? I know sharing is caring but I do not care for this situation at hand! This sh*t is bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S!!!

I sure do know how to pick ‘em, huh? I can’t even make this stuff up. I honestly wish I could. Sometimes I wonder if this is real life or am I being constantly punked? I try to put myself out there and this is what happens. I try to move on from the men I tend to recycle in my life (and vagina) and this is what I get. Maybe it’s time to start that cat collection. I’ve already selected names.

Meow!!! Special delivery!!!