Excuses and Closure

I think that the reason I am so emotionally disturbed and want to do something really bad to The Arab is the lack of closure after things ended between us. There was no closure, it came as a complete surprise and he essentially cut off all communication and wouldn’t answer my phone calls.

Closure is important because it helps us to move on, I guess. This is the first time since I was 16 that I was the person that got dumped instead of being the person doing the dumping. So I don’t think I ever really realized how important closure is.

But it doesn’t really make any sense.

The Mating Dance

I’ve talked to Young Black Hottie twice before-the day he moved in and the day he locked himself out of his apartment. Cute but young and I tried not to read too much into it. And then we talked again the day I was waiting for the locksmith to make news keys for my car.

Is he interested or am I just imagining things?

First Dates Suck 2

I have had a few successful first dates off the internets. Two of them, to be exact. The Flake and Dreads. I have found that you have to weed through a lot of crap before finding something good in the shit pile.

Is it worth even trying? I’m not sure.

First Dates Suck

Which is why they usually don’t make it to second dates. At least in my case. First impressions really matter to me. And it might be kind of hard to make a good first impression when everyone is nervous and we don’t know each other at all due to the whole online dating thing.

So here are some of the reasons that first dates suck. And what I’d like to see improved in my own dating life.

Conversation Pieces

So I decided that guys aren’t very good at talking to girls. In a semi-respectable way anyway. Guys, apparently, need a reason to talk to me. So I recently learned that I should give them a reason.

I started my education at the grocery store. Where a white guy actually talked to me.

Could we please just cut the fucking apron strings already? 2

With my (soon to be ex) Husband, it was a little different than the situation with The Blackest Man on Earth. At least my (soon to be ex) Husband had grown up with these people, his brother and sisters. His parents were dead but, before they died, they sent him here to support the rest of his siblings. (Which, I have to say, it a rotten responsibility to saddle on of your children with.)

(His parent died of AIDS, if you’re wondering. He father only lived for 3 months after Husband left.)

My Grandmother’s Advice

When I think of my grandmother, I think of a kind and friendly little women (she was all of about 5 feet tall), who spoke with an accent and was always in the kitchen doing something. I didn’t expect her to give me the advice she gave me when I was about 18.

Maybe she was having a bad day?

I wish I followed her advice.

The dating discussion

I feel like everything was so much easier when I was younger. There was no discussion, I make out with a guy and he automatically becomes my boyfriend. We start making out everywhere at school (and get dragged to the principal’s office multiple times for “public displays of affection”) and everyone knows that we are boyfriend/girlfriend.

Now everything is confusing. Discussion ensues. Why can’t it just be easy like it was 10-15 years ago?

Am I the blackest guy you’ve ever been with?

I have no idea why this was important to my (soon to be ex) Husband. I just remember one day, in the beginning of our relationship, he asked this question.

I just…laughed.

Vulnerability 2

“What’s wrong?” I don’t think The Arab expected me to stop him as he had had his hands down my pants on any number of occasions before this one. I don’t even know how many times we danced together out at a club, with his hand under my skirt or down the front of my jeans, one finger inside me as we moved together. It was like having sex with our clothes on.

“I didn’t shave.” I was embarrassed. I didn’t want somebody, and especially not this somebody, to see me like that. It was something that I was used to, that I hadn’t really thought about beforehand.