It Wasn’t My Race???

Sorry for not posting regularly. This is my last semester in grad school. I’ve also been putting the final touches on my poetry and prose collection, the chaos of longing. It’s frustrating but exciting becoming an indie author. Buy my book when it comes out. I need light bill money. Ha! The poetry is relatable, lusty, heartbreaking, and honest—sans humor. It’s kinda like this blog but with metaphors and not as wordy. Follow @_kyrobinson on Instagram or go to kyrobinson.net to view excerpts.

Anywho. Back to the subject at hand.

About 3 months ago I was lonely and feeling a bit ravenous. I hopped in the shower, shaved (everywhere), and oiled my body until I was glistening like Lupita Nyong’o! I asked Soothed if I could come over. It was quite late and I figured I didn’t have to spell out my intentions.

I sat on the couch as he played Dungeon and Dragons on his PC. After a few excruciating minutes he started up the Netflix. I just knew that the “Chill” part was right around the corner. Yes! Do me baby! (RIP to Prince though.) Usually around the 10 or 20-minute mark he’s discovering my right nipple.  I’ve relied on this fact for years.

THE CHILL NEVER CAME!  THE NIPPLE WAS NEVER FREED!

I gave him the light touches he couldn’t resist. I made sexual innuendos. I gave him the come hither stare. The cleavage was sitting high and looking ripe. Nothing worked. I even said that I was horny as a last ditch effort.

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Come on! It’s right there! Touch it. Touch it.

He was not catching what I was pitching. Awkward.

Towards the end of the movie, he received a text message and replied. By the next alert he’s lighting up like a Christmas tree. Awkwardness filled the room. He must have felt it too. He put his phone away and rejoined me on the couch.

I got up to use his bathroom. When I returned, he was back on his phone! He came back to the couch and claimed he was sleepy. I knew that was a lie. He made a production of it too. He yawned and laid his head on my shoulder. I told him I would go and let him get some rest. He told me to stay. He put on a new movie but continued to work on his craft. This Oscar unworthy performance was getting ridiculous. I took the hint and my ass back upstairs!

I remembered this behavior. When he met his ex, he became very distant. I decided to never speak to him again after that night. We crossed paths a couple of times but I pretended not to see him.

I couldn’t pretend that he didn’t exist yesterday.

My car stalled at an intersection during rush hour. I felt emotional, alone, and sweating like a pig in the Texas heat. A tow truck was being dispatched within the hour. Soothed saw me and pulled over. He got in my car and sat on the passenger side. I began to cry. He was the only person to stop. He told me that he didn’t know much about cars but would sit with me for a while.

He apologized for his behavior a few months ago and gave me an explanation that I already knew. He has a new girlfriend. He met her online and it was getting serious. So serious that he’s moving in with her. He asked if I wanted to see a picture of her. Of out curiosity I said yes. The pic took me by complete surprise.

She was black.

All this time I thought that he didn’t want to purse a relationship with me because I was black. I never threw the race card in his face but I took what he told me as prejudicial. Now I’m aware that it wasn’t my race; it was just me as a person. There was some relief but I also wondered why I wasn’t good enough. I guess he saw something in her in these past few months that he never saw in me for 5+ years.

Story of my life. Go figure.

I didn’t reveal those feelings though. I was just grateful that he was there for me in a moment when I felt so completely alone. Fridays is Dungeon and Dragons game night and he was running late. We shared a few gut busting laughs. He gushed about her  in between. Before leaving he said, “I love you sweetie. Text me to let me know you made it home safe.” At that moment I recalled what he told me a few years ago—some people are just meant to be friends.

Side Chick Approved?

Disclaimer: I may sound petty and whiny but it’ my blog. I can be petty and whiny if I want to.

For the past couple of years I have noticed that the men I was involved with sexually or otherwise are now in stable relationships with other women. At first I did not give a damn but lately, it has been doing something to my spirit y’all. The One Who Loves To Text, The One Who Was My Lawyer, The One Who Is Special, and The One Who Was Too Young are now parading their relationships for all of Facebook to see.  I find this peculiar because half of these guys claimed that they didn’t want Facebook in their business when we were involved. Things that make you go hmm.

Anywho…a particular incident had an effect on me and it came from somewhere I least expected. For the past year or so, Young and I have been constant contact. He claimed that he was single and that he wanted me to be his boo. Of course I did not take him too seriously. I won’t fake the funk; a part of me liked the attention. After our horrible sexual encounter, I did not feel the need the have sex with him again. That sure didn’t stop him from trying though! A part of me found his persistence somewhat endearing. It made me feel desired.

To make a long story short, I saw that he recently got engaged to his girlfriend on Facebook. Yep. Girlfriend. It turned out he had one the entire time.  There he was on bended knee proposing to a dainty petite woman as their closest friends look on.  Soon to follow were pics of her showing off her ring which was pretty damn gorgeous by the way.

Jealousy started to set in. Why was she the type of chick that a man wanted to marry? Furthermore, why was I the type of chick that guys wanted to fool around with secretly?  Was I not pretty enough? Was I too fat? Too mousy? Just a wet hole and nothing more? All of these self-defeating thoughts and more swam in my head. Why was this affecting me so much?! I don’t even like this dude romantically. I’m still gaga over The One Who Is a Silver Fox!

A few days later, Young had the nerve to contact me via text message.

 

Young: I want to take you out to breakfast.

Me: I’m pretty sure your fiancée wouldn’t like that. You’ve been acting like you didn’t have someone the whole time.

Young:
sideeye

 

Young: Lol you can be my side boo if you like. I’ll pay you.

Me: I’ll pass. I don’t want to be someone’s dirty little secret. I don’t want to be a side boo, chick, bitch, pussy, etc. Call me silly but I’d like to think that I deserve more than that.

Young: You do tho.

Young: I’ll still buy you breakfast lol.

Me: Thanks but no thanks.

I don’t know why I even replied to his text anyway. Perhaps I was looking for a “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my fiancee” apology.  I definitely wasn’t looking for a “You can be my side chick and I’ll pay you like a hooker” type of ish.

It is not the fact that he got engaged per se. It’s a combination of things. It seems like dudes are by passing me like I have Ebola when it comes to relationships. I’m 35, childless, and sleep alone every damn night. Am I not a fucking catch? A sista can not live on dick alone.

I’m either faced with unrequited love or attract dudes who want a side chick. Do I have “Side Chick Approved” stamped on my forehead? I can not say that I’m completely faultless though; I let men treat me this way for far too long. Perhaps I didn’t think I was worthy to receive more. Sigh. At this point, I’m just done. So done.