Call me psychotic. Call me obsessed. But I had to write an emergency post bc tonite is the nite‼️ Red Flamingo’s bday party is tonite and I’m. Freaking. Out‼️‼️ My friends tell me I’m overreacting and not to worry about The Scientist bc he’s already moved on. Right‼️ That’s part of what hurts so much‼️ The feelings were one way. It tore me up so much I told all my friends and even acquaintances. I really am crazy and spill the T to anyone (my business that is). Either way Ima be hurt tonite. Bc if it goes badly, that’s gonna suck. If it goes well, then Ima be angry that he cut me off without a word for so long and then decided to be nice. Now I’m just repeating what I said last time. But no. Cordial and polite is all that it can be. Beyond that will just not be fair. I’m expecting heartbreak all over again. Especially because I poured my soul out in a letter that prolly came out even worse sounding than what I’d originally said. Fuck‼️ But Ima be strong and confident and cheerful and fabulous and me‼️ Secretly there’s part of me that would love to meet his other friends tonite and have them love me and make him jealous‼️ But I can’t be petty. And I can’t be angry. We are adults and he made an adult decision that was best for his adult life. Not mine. But maybe in collateral it was best for me too. So stop freaking out‼️‼️‼️‼️
Here I go again with the brutal honesty. One minute I feel like I’m on top of the world and the next I’m feeling like an epic failure when it comes to dating…
A couple Fridays ago I met my friend, the Red Flamingo, out for drinks with his coworkers. At the first bar, we met this girl who was traveling from California on her own. His coworkers called it an early night and we took this Traveler to Boystown with us. While dancing at one of my favorite bars, this sexy black man started dancing with me! I’ll refer to him as Tiny Dancer. Then the Red Flamingo pushed me into him. Although, we were already dancing, so it was kind of pointless, but he was trying to be a good wingman. Tiny Dancer and I exchanged numbers and started texting all week. We made plans to go out the next Sunday. He even said that he thought I was 22y/o! I’m sure that was a lie, but I’ll take it!
I flew to Jacksonville, FL, the hole of the earth, for work that week. So from Thursday to Saturday I was doing nothing but drinking free dranks at work receptions. Tiny Dancer picked me up that Sunday and we went to Pride Fest. We were both running into people we knew all over the place. And that was awkward at times considering half the people we ran into were my lovahs! But one of his friends was a bartender and we got three free $14 sangrias each! So the day was going well!
We ended up at one of the bars on the strip. When one of my jams came on, I left him at the front bar to go dance in the back. As I started getting my groove on, I had to let out a little fart. That’s when I realized I’d been drinking ALL weekend and hadn’t eaten any food that day. It totally ended up NOT being a fart. I totally sharted myself! And I mean it was pure liquid. The back of my LIGHT BLUE shorts were completely covered in shit! I was mortified! So I ran to the bathroom and THANK GOODNESS a stall was open. So I locked myself in and tried to clean myself up but there was no hope! I sat in the stall for like 10min trying to figure out what the hell to do. Then I decided to text Tiny Dancer and let him know that I sat in something really gross and had to leave.
He was sweet and found me in the stall and knocked on the door and asked to see how bad it was. I said “NO! It’s horrible, I have to go,” and I ran out of the club with my T-shirt stretched down to my knees. Of course being Pride Fest, there were TONS of people on the street, so I cut down the side street toward the residential area and ordered an Uber. Two Ubers cancelled on me in a row as I was just standing in the middle of the street covered in my own feces. Then finally an Uber picked me up and I politely sat on my hip so as not to dirty up the seat. I immediately rolled down the window as we started to drive off, and then the driver rolled down ALL THE WINDOWS!
Thankfully the Red Flamingo came to my rescue. He told me to go home and wash my ass and he’d be right over with some green! I was devastated and mortified, and Tiny Dancer and I have barely texted since!!! Do you think he figured out what happened? Do you think anyone in the dark club or on the street knew?! Being independent, single and free is not quite as easy as I’d hoped!
So besides the comfortable, intimate nights we’d have at his place, The Scientist and I were going on impromptu outings, and he was learning some of my darkest secrets (though, in retrospect, he didn’t quite share as many details about his life as I did). He was also asking a lot of questions about The Ex which kinda weirded me out, but I couldn’t help but bring him up in conversation considering he was a part of my entire adult life up until now.
Our next night out after the Associate Board Gala was after work when I was on my way home from running errands. I was hungry and wanted a drink with dinner, so I texted The Scientist and invited him out with me. I was super excited to see him, but his homebodiness was taking over and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go out. So I told him he had two train stops to make up his mind. But he said drinks are his weakness (more specifically gin, which I read on social media means you have psychotic tendencies), and he told me to meet him at his place so he could finish getting ready.
He answered the door in his underwear as he usually did with his long beautiful hair all swept up in a bun. He finished getting ready, and I grabbed my bag and we headed out. We ate some delicious sliders and had a couple drinks and when it came time to pay, he got out his wallet to split the bill as we’d done the time before. I told him it was on me because I’d invited him out. Then I quickly followed up by telling him that this was not a date because I wasn’t ready for a date with anyone. He understood and suggested that we get another drink on him. So we headed to the new arcade bar next door and sipped on some cocktails before heading to the back of the bar to play games.
Once in the back, he asked me if I’d ever played Killer Queen to which I responded no. It’s a group game with two teams. Ironically, 5 seconds later, these random people asked us if we wanted to play. The next thing we knew, we were playing this game with a dozen strangers and having a blast! I didn’t even know there were that many people in this bar at the time! And one girl on our team actually recognized me. It took us a minute, but then we figured out that she was an intern under The Ex. *side eye
We had a great time, even though some guy from the other team came to help us win and hated that we lost every time. We literally only won like twice out of 10 games. But none of us cared. We were only having fun. The Scientist was so much fun and so laid back. Then when it was time to leave, I told him I just had to grab my bag. He then proceeded to ask me why I even brought it with me as if to say, “aren’t you spending the night?” And of course this thrilled me. And then we went back to his place and made love and chilled as I played with his hair and he told me to “get out his kitchen.” A term I heard for the first time with him. Yes, my chosen family is mostly comprised of black folks, but that don’t mean I know everything about black culture. Hell, I don’t know everything about gay culture. Or British culture (my dad is a Brit). While lying there, I also admired his numerous tattoos. In fact, during our 3 month tenure, he got a huge new tattoo outlined on his stomach. It was a portrait that I’d jokingly make out with. He thought I was so extra! Or, as I’ve stated before, I prefer the term histrionic!
I was so excited to see the progress of this tattoo as the weeks would go on. But the Scientryst would soon come to an explosive end, and I didn’t even see it coming…
For the first time in 33 years, I’m about to be completely on my own. It’s such an exciting time in my life. I think it’s something I’ve always wanted, yet I’m scared outta my fucking mind! Adulting with another adult is hard enough! How the hell do I do it by myself? Perhaps it’ll be easier because I’m not responsible for anyone else. But that seems a selfish way of thinking after a very, very LTR!
The Ex and I pretty much started our relationship on the day we met…which will be 12 years ago this month. However, I have no idea on which day our relationship ended. I suppose the last official day will be April 30, 2017 when our lease is up. Yes, you read that correctly. I am living in a shitty, broke down, roach-infested box…With. The. Ex! I have deemed this studio apartment the Pigeon Hole. The view out the only window is a brick wall of the neighboring residence which forms a nasty little alcove with the brick wall of my residence. In this alcove, pigeons like to coo. Pigeons like to shit. Pigeons like to fuck. And they’re noisy fuckers.
So how the hell did I get conned into moving into a crappy, confined Pigeon Hole with The Ex? Because you don’t just throw away 11 years (at that time), right? He’d provided for me. And now he was out of a job for the first time ever. But I was just starting my first full time job; I couldn’t support us both living in the one bedroom that we’d been in for 7 years. And so we were kicked out and forced to find the Pigeon Hole.
So why did it end after more than a decade? That’s an answer I have to be careful in formulating over the course of the coming weeks. I don’t want to be unfair to The Ex. We may despise each other now, but I have respect for him still. However, I promised myself I’d be honest to the 5 people reading this and to myself. So how did it end? Essentially the answer may be that we were doomed from the start like some Shakespeare shit…