Wednesday, June 14, 2017

My Fascination With Being Someone's WCW

WCW Poem 

I’m not your WCW
You don’t have to let me know
I can tell by your lack of phone calls
And by your lack of mentioning me on social media

I know that I’m not your WCE
You don’t have to remind me
It was just sexual attraction
It led to a beautiful moment in time
I remember
But you’ve forgotten

I’m not the woman you crush on
You talk about her all the time
Not afraid to brag in front of your friends
Not afraid to make her your Facebook profile pic
She’s taller than me
Bigger boobs and her ass is big just like you like it

I know I’m not your type
That’s why I’m letting you go
Even though you’ve already moved on

Sometime last year thoughts of longing for affection and being in love with a man filled my mind. From those thoughts came my book This Is For The Lover In You, but before I started writing the book this poem came to mind. 

Upon writing the poem, all I could think about were the  series of shitty men that had hit my DM's over the past couple years flirting their hearts away while at the same time posting pictures of their spouses that they were supposed to be madly in love with. That shit pissed me off. Some were posting pictures of female friends they found absolutely amazing and some were posting pictures of their celebrity crushes. None of those photos were of me or had me in them. 

Remember when the WCW stuff first started? I don't, but over the years I have had a lot of exposure to men expressing their love with women every single Wednesday and women doing the same for men every Monday. What did I do? I flirted and waited until the day I would be someone's WCW. Not a private WCW, but being full blown recognized as the caring, loving, and sexually attractive woman I am. 

What I have settled for are the compliments of me being a good writer that come around every once in a while, but will I ever be someone's WCW? Maybe, and hopefully when that day comes he's not secretly trying to entertain other women at the same damn time. 

Why do men flirt with several women anyway? Just dealing with one man is frustrating enough. Do you know the irritation of waking up and not seeing a "Good Morning" text so you send it instead because you hate that feeling of just being a booty call even though you know that's probably all you are to him?

Anyway, if you like the poem there's more in the book. 

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Givers and Takers/ Maybe Bar Restaurant Parties Aren't For Going By Myself

Picture this. It's a tiny restaurant with an outside and inside bar areas. There's also a small parking lot that the place is charging $5 for people to park. It's not a lot of people there and I want to try brunch there for the first time so I go ahead and pay. While it would be amazing to sit outside, the 90 degree heat has been burning the precious chocolate skin so I choose inside. There are several booths, which are full, seats at the bar area, and also a few tables. I choose one of the tables and get comfortable. My order is taken and my card is taken to create a table. There is also R&B music playing, which I absolutely love. I've been looking for places with good music playing. Everything is good at first. 

I'm a giver so if people need something I'm willing to work with them. However, my giving spirit doesn't work well in this place. Usually I can go to restaurants, order, and feel peaceful while eating my food. Not this time. 

Before my food comes, the taking starts. First a few people approach and ask if anyone is sitting with me. They have a large crew coming in so they see my table as a good spot for them. I spot another table, so I'm okay with moving. I move, sing a little, get my food and get comfortable. However, my eating is then disturbed by someone else asking if they can have extra chairs at the table. I say yes. 
They take two. A few minutes later another woman approaches asking if she can take a chair. In an annoyed voice I say okay. Next thing I know some guy is taking the second half of the table and making my drink spill. Did he offer to get me a new drink? No! Just a pathetic apology for doing something he never he warned me he was about to do. 

I learned a few things from this experience. 

1. While I've been craving to go to an atmosphere that allows me to get food/drinks and chill in a corner inconspicuously, this was not the place.

 I went there because of an online flyer for a brunch party called Migos & Mimosas, but it was not the place to disappear in a crowd. Instead of disappearing, I was noticed because the spot I was sitting at had accessories others needed. 

2. If I want disappear into crowds at places with good music, I should stick to clubs. 

At least in a club if someone approaches me, it's a man that actually has some kind of interest in me and is not approaching me because I have stuff that would make his friends more comfortable. 

3. I really just wanted to write about this horrible experience. Maybe there's a lesson about giving and taking in there somewhere. Oh yeah, next time I'll say no. 

Monday, June 12, 2017

She Can Have Him, My Experience With Arguing Over A Man

Months ago I had a strange experience that involved old classmates and I'm finally ready to talk about it. Before I post the creative story I wrote, here's a little background on the people involved.

I went to elementary and middle school with these people. Like any other normal human, I connected with them through Facebook. I had been Facebook friends with the woman in this situation since 2006 or 2007, but because of how social media is set up we weren't connecting often, and we never saw each other outside of the internet. I didn't connect with the man on Facebook until this year and then we saw each other in person after him and her broke up. 

I don't really share the exact names of the men that end up in my bed because of Irreconcilable Differences, but this situation went beyond my control. I also don't argue over men, but the way this situation was set up there were moments where it looked like I was responding back. Below is the story and I've changed the names of the exact people involved. There is no official title for this yet, but I've titled it based on sections. 

The One Night Stand 

We were having a Monica “The First Night” song type of moment. Both of us sat on the sofa with space in between us. An episode of Chicago PD was on the television screen, but I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on. My mind was on him, his good looks, his confidence, and his reasons for being here with me. 

His name was Devonte and his confidence was my biggest problem. Earlier that night when he messaged me, it was like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Well, I couldn’t say no to a man telling me to get dressed and hang with him. I thought about saying it several times. I thought about telling him never mind. He had just broken up with his ex-girlfriend and I didn’t want to be a rebound. I also didn’t want to fall into the trap of lust so soon after claiming I was abstaining from sex. 

Then seeing him for the first time standing outside near his car waiting for me stirred something in my soul. I can’t remember the last time I was able to hop in the passenger side of a man’s car and have him take me wherever. I’ve always met up with men to stay in my comfort zone. I think I hugged him before getting in his car. I’m not sure. Nervousness had taken over my mind. Upon hopping in the car, I could smell the beer. Clearly I was dealing with a bad boy that wasn’t afraid to drink and drive. He wasn’t drunk or even tipsy though. 

“Are you hungry?” Devonte asked.

Was I hungry? Before receiving his messages on Facebook that night, I was hungry. I was trying to choose between warming up leftovers in my fridge, sticking frozen foods into the oven, or cooking something on the stove. But then my hunger was replaced with curiosity. 

“Nah,” I said, “But I will be later.” 

We talked a little and sat in silence. I don’t really know what kind of word flowed from my mouth. 

“Are you thirsty?” he asked. I wasn’t thirsty, but a drink could calm me down. He stopped at a gas station and we went in. I thought about grabbing cheap liquor, but instead went for a soda. After leaving the gas station, he drove little more. Then he mentioned getting a hotel room for the night. 

“I’m thinking about getting a hotel room just to chill at for the night.” 

“Why?” I asked. “You have roommates?” 

“Yeah, I live in a house with his father. I come and go as I please. If you wanted to go there, we can.” 

“Well, I live alone.” 

“In your apartment? No roommates? All by yourself?” He seemed surprised. 

“Yeah.” Devonte turned around and headed back to my place. 

I couldn’t believe I was inviting him in. Just a couple days ago I had told myself to take a break from men. My luck in the past few years had been men that only wanted casual sex, cheating men, long distance ones, and ones that were afraid to get from behind their computers and meet me in person. I knew I needed a break. I needed to breathe. I needed feminine energy around me, girl talks over drinks, laughing and sharing our joys and disappointments. The only women I could do that with were in other states and we were only communicating through the phone when our schedules happened to fall in sync. Instead of that desperately needed girl talk, I was putting myself in a position to have a new guy yearning for what was between my legs just so he could forget about me afterward. 

Soon we were back at my place sitting on the sofa not paying attention to Chicago PD. Instead we were sitting in awkward silence, or asking questions just to have something to talk about, or even playing with our phones. I kept picking up my phone out of nervousness, but no one was texting me, or saying anything to me on social media. 

“Come here.” He pointed to his lap. It was then that I knew where we were heading. 

“I’m interested in you,” Devonte told me as he held me in his arms. 

“I can tell.”


“This right here.” Then we had our first kiss.

One minute we were in the living room and the next he had me on my bed. I have a habit of throwing jackets on it at the beginning of the day, so I pushed the jackets along with pillows onto the floor while he got undressed.

The sex started off new. I wasn’t as relaxed as I should have been starting off and I didn’t really know what to expect from him. But the more we got into it, the better it became. After the first round as we laid next to each other naked, catching our breaths, with only the light of the television highlighting our brown skinned bodies, I realized I didn’t know the man laying next to me.  

It was like Tamia’s song, “There’s a Stranger In My House,” except he was adoring me. He was lusting after me and I was returning the lust, but at the same time still trying to figure out why I was chosen. Plus he really was a stranger. 

Well before that night we had chatted through the Facebook messenger a few times. I had looked through his pictures and read some of his status updates. I did know a little about him. 

Wait, this guy wasn’t just a random Facebook friend that turned into a random hookup. I ended up requesting him, because his crazy girlfriend didn’t understand that you don’t ask new women to appear in your cheating man’s eyesight. Or maybe I should have just stuck with my original intentions of speaking with her and never connected with her cheating man on social media. 

The Beginning 

“Hey, since we’re in the same city, we should get together sometimes for drinks and discuss business plans.” I meant what I was saying, but I wasn’t sure Avery was for real about discussing anything dealing with business. 

“Okay, sure. Are you busy Saturday?” Avery asked. 

“Saturday is perfect. Just let me know what time.” 

It was supposed to be friendly conversation in the Facebook messenger that would somehow lead to business talk between women. However, that Saturday meeting would never happen. Avery wasn’t as serious about furthering her career as me. She was too busy focusing on men, or one man to be exact.  We had spent our conversations discussing the headaches we had gotten while attempting to make potentially great men our on. I was okay with that route of conversation, because I had already put everything I told her about in a book. But I wanted to talk about more than men. 

I had done it plenty of times before using Facebook messenger, the Instagram DM, and even the Twitter DM. Many women that I had never been face to face with had exchanged messages with me discussing our dreams of making money off of our passions. Sometimes they were conversations with men, because men have dreams too. This always started with personal information about ourselves being exchanged, because creative entrepreneurs usually use their personal lives to help enhance their story telling. Maybe in this situation we went a little too personal and that was why it was hard to get to the professional part.

Earlier in the conversation we were discussing her issues with her man. His name was Devonte. 

“Girl, he’s perfect for me. Even though I already have kids, I’ve already told him how many more I want.” 

“Really?” I said. “How long have you two been dating?” 

“About two months, but there are some issues with him.” 

“Like what?” 

“He keeps talking to all these women. I’ve taken his phone and deleted numbers out of it. I’ve also gone through his social media and blocked women that were messaging him.” 

“WOW!” I responded, but I was really thinking that’s a lot of work to do for a man you’ve only been with a short period of time. 

“Listen, he’s currently blocked me on Facebook because I blocked all those women. Will you do me a favor and request him? I need someone to let me know what he’s posting.” 

I shouldn’t have done it. I was still in a very vulnerable place emotionally from the last man I had dealt with. He wasn’t my man, but he was a single man that couldn’t make up his mind whether he wanted to be in a loving relationship or just occasionally getting great sex. So I settled for great sex until I was tired of him. 

I sent the friend request like Avery asked, glanced at his profile, and sent a screenshot of his latest Facebook status to her. That status was all about her and what she had done. She wrote an “lol” and was satisfied. 

Were they really in a relationship? It was hard to tell because these two were so dysfunctional. I didn’t need to know much about them. Avery had already said she was going through his phone and social media messages. Even though he was cheating on her, she was determined to hold onto him. However, he didn’t seem like he was having the same emotions for her. Soon after sending that friend request, he sent me a message. 

“Hey, so what made you request me?”

“Avery was talking about you, so I decided to send a request. What’s up with you and her anyway?” 

“We’ve tried being together, but she’s too much drama for me. She just does a lot that I can’t handle.” 

“Oh, I understand.” Then I went on to tell Devante the same story about the previous man that I had told Avery and many others. I should have reported the conversation to Avery since I was supposed to be a spy for her, but I never did. I just thought of it as a quick conversation. 

We never talked again until that very random night that he messaged me on Facebook about hanging out. It was a Thursday, cold outside, and my mind was in a world of it’s own. 

It Went Too Far

After that night, Devante became just another man on my hit list. However, it took him some time to realize that. For several days after that he asked when we would hook up again. I wasn’t in a rush to see him, so I wasn’t giving him an answer. 

At the same time Olivia started acting like a regular single woman again. She would update statuses directed at men not acting right, jump in groups to flirt in the comments section, and post pictures trying to get attention from anyone. I was no longer talking to her. I had no intention of telling her about that night with her man and we had nothing to discuss since she had clearly forgotten about the business meeting. However, she did eventually find out that I spoke with him. 

My number was saved in Devante’s phone. On one random Saturday a little over a week later I decided to call him. My call went unanswered. A few days after that they were back together and she decided to make a very public Facebook status about seeing someone on her friends list saved in her man’s phone. Well, she called her ex-man in the status. 

“I was going through my ex-man phone 
and saw a missed phone call from someone on my friend list on it. 
You just can’t trust people smh.”

I kept quiet and read the comments. Avery was really embarrassing herself by admitting she was still spending time with a man that couldn’t be trusted. I knew it wasn’t over though. Eventually we would have to disconnect from each other on all social media platforms. It would be better for both of us. I was also done with Devante. 

Another week went by. Neither of them were on my mind. I had checked a day before to remove Avery from my friends list, but her profile was nowhere to be found. It was a Tuesday night and I was getting ready for bed when my phone rang. 
I didn’t recognize the number. I should have ignored it, but instead I answered. 


I heard a man’s voice.

“Hi, who is this?” 

“Devante,” he said. 

“Oh,” I said shocked. I had planned on never seeing or speaking to him again. But I also wasn’t ready to talk to him at that moment. I made up an excuse about getting ready for bed. He said okay and we decided we would speak again at a better time. No time would be better though. 

What I did do to officially close out that chapter of my life with those two was send him the story I had written about that night with him. After he read it I explained I was working on a book and his story would be featured in it. He was cool with it.  
But it still wasn’t over yet. A day later I received one more message from Devante’s Facebook page. He didn’t write it though. It was Avery. The messaged said: 

“Bitch Leave My Man Alone You Dirty Hoe.” 

What she wanted was already done. 

P.S. The end of the story wasn't the end of the story. Through one of her friends, she did a public social media broadcast telling everyone that I fucked her man. It was terrible because I didn't want anyone to know about him and stupid because he was no longer her man. 

Thursday, June 8, 2017

Irreconcilable Differences?

Irreconcilable differences? I've always thought that was a great phrase used for when people didn't want to go into detail about just how much they really wanted to kill each other over things they hated about each other during their marriages, but instead chose to take the high road and keep their issues short. However, I was reading Samantha Irby's book, We Are Never Meeting In Real Life, and she described the ending of her relationships as irreconcilable differences. I'll forever use that phrase for everything that doesn't work out in the future.

I'll apply it to relationships. No one needs to know about the cute men I've always sub-Facebooked and tweeted about just wanted to fuck. They were cute and worth it for the experiences, but there was nothing else to them. There has never been anything else to them. Its like they use up all the energy of celebrating holidays, buying expensive gifts for girlfriends or spending any money at all, and going on dates that don't involve meeting at someone's house for casual sex on the women before me. When they meet me the expectation is just that my clothes will come off even when there's no foreplay to build me up or there is nothing between us at all. I spent a good amount of my 20's choosing the option of nothing at all, but I made exceptions for the experiences.

And I'll use that shit on failed friendships. Irreconcilable differences sounds so much better than telling people all the stupid reasons friendships ended; like how a group of girls turned their backs on me because I didn't wanted to surround myself with more than five people who I called friends. I didn't want to be part of a clique for some reason, but a little over a decade later I realize maybe I should have went the clique route if I wanted to have more than two friends that remember I exist beyond social media. Or I'll use irreconcilable differences on that ex-classmate who I didn't realize her ex was still off limits after they broke up. I always said I wouldn't date a friend's ex, but is casual sex that no one is supposed to find out about considered dating?

And I'll sprinkle irreconcilable differences all over my non-blossoming writing career. I've had dreams of being a writer since my elementary school days and paid writing dreams since I took out my first student loan in college. However, obtaining a real paid writing job is difficult and getting one that pays my bills feels like it'll take the help off a fairy God-mother to start working out in my favor. And being a blogger on the internet trying to create friendly relationships with other bloggers hasn't been a picnic in the park either. Then again all picnics aren't good experiences, so maybe it has.

See, I've actually written a crazy amount about my life in poetry that's now stored in two self-published books. You have to buy them to know more, but until then my life is filled with a lot of irreconcilable differences.