These are my confessions...

I miss Mr. Big. {check the labels with his name to get caught up if you ned to. I'm way too high to link shit right now.}

I'm tired of being single. Nah, fuck that. Since this is confession time, let me word it as I feel it: I'M LONELY! :(

I realize the the way I'm dealing with my father's death is by worrying about my mother. It's like I don't ever really relax b/c I convince myself that she needs me. So I'm back and forth at her house all week. Yep, maybe it's that me saying I don't want her to be by herself is also me saying I don't want to be by myself..

I'm pretty high right now.

I'm also pretty high. As in I look pretty when I'm under the influence. Conceited? Yes. So?

Introducing: "The Boyfriend"

So remember that part in the movie "Norbit" when Resputia and Norbit first met and she was like, 'You got a boyfriend, Norbit? Well, you do now!!"" Yea, that's pretty much what I did to "Boyfriend". Not because he was so great and I wanted him on my team, but because I had known him for years and he never made a move and I got tired of him wasting my time. Let me start from the beginning...

It was December of 2005 or 2006 and my son was in NC with his sperm donor for the Christmas break*. I was walking to get me something to eat one night and I heard a car horn honking. Not to be conceited, but I'm used to this and I usually just ignore whatever rude ass is honking for my attention like I'm some street walking hooker. This guy takes my ignoring him as a sign that he should stick his head out the window and tell me how good I look. I keep walking and pay him no mind. He drives about a block ahead of me, stops his car (in the middle of the street), gets out with his cell in his hand and yells to me that he's not moving until I give him my number and it better be the right one (his exact words). Now, I've always been the type to try my best to avoid scenes, I hate for people to look at me so you'll rarely catch me yelling in public or doing something that would draw eyes to me. So please believe him doing this mortified me to no end...there were at least three cars behind him that couldn't go around him because of oncoming traffic in the other lane. So, I gave him my number and he stood there and did not move his car until he dialed my cell and saw that the number was valid. Yes, I got jacked for my number and amazingly it was not his last time doing this...

Anywho, he and I started to speak on the phone and I got the impression that he was an MOB (money over bitches) kinda dude. He was always "working"** and didn't really seem interested in spending anytime getting to know me, despite the fact that we would sometimes spend hours on the phone. Somehow he became a constant figure in my life despite me seeing him only sporadically. And usually when I did see him it would be him calling to see if I was home because he was around my block. I'd then go downstairs and either sit in the car with him and shoot the shit for a little while (if my son was asleep) or just stand at my front door so he could get a quick hug or something. He wasn't allowed in my house because I didn't want him meeting my son.

He always seemed extremely young minded to me despite being just one year my junior. Sure he had money and cars and all of that, so financially he was mature, but emotionally ...well...he was kind of retarded in that area. I got the feeling that I intimidated him and that made me self-conscious. He would always compliment me on how pretty I was but it always sounded more like an accusation than a compliment: "Yo! You are so fucking pretty!" . He won me over one day when were on the phone a little after midnight and he was around a bunch of his friends with a shitload of noise in the background. He was saying how he was so busy and didn't have a moment to himself and I was like, "We'll you need to find time to come give me a hug." I'd had a rough day and I really did need a hug, but I was just bullshitting when I said it to him, figuring that there was no way he come- especially considering that at the time we were talking he was two cities and at least 30 minutes away. So, to make my demand even more outlandish, I said "Yea, come give me a hug...and bring me a pint of Shrimp Lo Mein w/ extra veggies...and extra soy sauce..ooh..and a twix..ooh ooh and a quart of milk for my son's breakfast in the morning....oh yea and a pepsi- bottle not canned..." Just to be funny. I honestly thought that with all the noise in the back and him carrying on at least two other convos, he wouldn't even hear me, much less oblige. To my surprise, he called me about 45 minutes later and told me to come outside. As soon as I opened the door, he grabbed my in his arms and gave me the longest, strongest hug he had ever given me., Then, before I could say anything he handed me a bag with everything I'd asked for in it. Silly as it seems, that right there let me know that I just may have pegged him wrong and perhaps he wasn't all "money over broads" after all.

We went on like this for a few months and in that time he got more comfortable with touching me. (this was at least a year into us knowing one another. We'd never had sex and he really never acted like it was something he wanted to do). I would get mad because he would hug me and then try to lick my face. It was like a joke to him, but it grossed me out and we'd stop talking for months on end after that. Petty, I know, but it REALLY grossed me out and I'd asked him repeatedly not to do it. Plus, it was creepy. *shivers* And every time he did it was if he’d only done it because he couldn’t stop himself. He always said that I did “something weird to him”.

During one of our stints of not talking, he called me (after 3-4 months) and let me know that he would be going "away"*** for a year or so. He and I started talking again casually and I found out he had a girlfriend. If memory serves me correctly, I think his daughter's mother (they weren't together) had called my phone and tried to start some fuckery thinking that I was his girlfriend, "Keisha". Now, it wasn't the fact that he was seeing someone that bothered me; it was that I felt bamboozled somehow because he never struck me as the have-a-girlfriend type. He just always seemed so...high school. As if he and all of his stupid ass friends thought girls were icky. *shrugs*

Anyway, he "went away" and we'd write letters to one another. In one of the letters I let him know how I felt about him having a girl and that I was confused as to what I was in his life for. He then let me know about all of these "feelings" he had for me, despite the fact that the two of them were still together. Somehow, he managed to get some sort of work release thing where he was able to leave the cage and go to work during the day. He also managed to have access to a car to do this and started to pick me up from work and take me to me to get my son through the week. I remember me starting a bunch of "where is this going?" conversations with him that led no where. After awhile, Mr. Big came back into the picture and I stopped being beat to play with him so we lost contact. I had seen him around and whenever he'd ask for my number I'd go into a big spiel about him wasting my time and it usually ended with us leaving without exchanging contact info again.

I think I went about a year without seeing him until the end of last year when my son and I were walking to the bus stop one morning and I heard a horn honking as we crossed the street. As usual, I ignored it until I heard a man's voice call my name. I turned around and in the driver's seat of one of those vans that pick up and drop off the elderly and disabled to their doctors was "Boyfriend". I was actually pleasantly surprised to see him. Since I was in a rush to catch our bus, I gave him my new number (I change cell numbers quite often). He called me about 20 minutes later and we got caught up. We started talking regularly again and I told him as often as I could that I would not be letting him waste my time this go around. We went out to dinner and movies a few times, and I even decided that he could actually come in my house and chill every now and then. Even still, I noticed that he seemed to have very little time for me. So, when I moved out of my apartment in May and changed all of my numbers, he was one of the people that didn't make the cut and I virtually dropped off the face of the Earth to him.

Come to think of it, the specific thing that solidified me not keeping him around was a convo we'd had. He had told me when we started talking again that he was looking for a new apartment. Then he didn’t mention it again until a few months later when out of no where, he told me he'd moved into the apartment building on the corner of my block. At first I thought he was bullshittng, but he kept saying how he needed to clean the place up so that he could move his stuff in and would I come up the block some time that weekend to help him and he was very convincing. The convo about his apartment lasted about an hour… just for him to then tell me that he was just joking and was still looking for an apartment. What?!?!? You mean you wasted my time again??? A whole conversation about a lie?? Are you kidding me? Who does that??? So yea, that was the main reason he didn't make the cut when I moved.

Fast forward to early July of this year, I'm at the bus stop and this baby blue Benz stops in front of me. I ignore it and after awhile, the passenger side winow rolls down and lo and behold, it's "Boyfriend" (usually he drives a black Acura, I still have no clue how many/ and what kind of cars he has total). Anyway, the first words out his mouth are "I've been looking all over for you!" Knowing that he knows where my mom lives and that I was just a few blocks away from her house (since this is where I moved to), I was immediately creeped out. Was this motherfreaker just driving around aimlessly looking for me???? At this point I was standing near the passenger side door as we were talking and I'd had my phone in my hand. Somehow along our convo-which consisted mainly of him asking why I dropped off radar and me telling him all the ways he'd wasted my time- I'd rested my arms on the door. Before I could even realize it, he had snatched my phone out of my hand and was dialing his number from my phone so that he could have my new number. Dammit, jacked again...!!!!

To be continued....

* (I know it seems as if I never have my son, but that's the farthest thing from the truth. Fact of the matter is, his donor is a waste of the skin that covers his body but that's another blog...)

**Yes, drugs.

***Yes, jail.

Me & Kanye, man...f*cking GENIUSES

Some thoughts of the last hour or so:

I wonder if the reason Mr. Big was so ok with introducing me to the "chief" was because he knew I would need it to help me get over him

I think I'm going to be a mean, cruel bitch and make boys cry. I'll be all nice at first and make them fall in love with me (married or not)* and fuck their life up real slow like. Make them be so in love wit the kid that they leave wife(y). Then, soon as I got them where I want them, I'll diss 'em and be like "You left that good woman for my trifling ass???? You stoopid!" and smh and give them the ill gas face. Yep, I wanna make boys cry....

When my parents get back in from the grocery store, my first words to them is going to have to be "Don't worry despite what it smells like, the house was never in any real jeopardy of getting burned down." ( I just reaaaalllllllyyyy wanted some cookies.)

Speaking of which...here's some real fat girl shit for you . You know Pillsbury cookie dough that comes ready to bake? Yea, well I baked 4** and ate one raw.

Yum.

I am just as fucked up as I wanted to be right now. I had a rough day. Had to go out and get me a pregnancy test at lunch. It was negative and trust your girl went and got a 12-pack of Magnums. (Yes, TK and I always use them (seriously) but there was a malfunction about two months back and then my cycle got funny on me. But, like I said it, was negative. I'll just say this, ain't nothing like those few hours before you decide it's time for you to finally take the test. All the shit that you think about. SMH... and then the simultaneous relief and disappointment you feel once it's negative. Ain't nothing like that....

Speaking of TK, I'm getting real tired of his black ass.

I read somewhere that you should make the curse words pretty with symbols and shit so that people with a block at work can still read your blog from their jobs. I tried.... I say fuck that *kanye shrug*

Haha...today my white, dorky frat-boy co-worker was telling us about his weekend, said he'd gone to a spa with his roommate (they're straight). When we gave him the side eye he said ""Well we didn't massage each other." What?! That's not usually how it's done in spas anyway...but ookaaaay!!! LMAO! Me think the boy doth protest too much! lol

OMG! These cookies are everything I want in life and more!!! nom nom nom nom***

Time to chow. Later!!!!

*Yea, I said it

**I lie...it was actually FIVE

*nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom

An Open Letter to "Mr. Big"

I had the unexpected pleasure of seeing a picture of Her today and, all hating aside, I am not impressed. I can see what it was that drew you to her though (didn’t we always joke about how you love the chickens?) lol From her blunt-blackened lips to her bra-less, saggy breasts, to the blotches on her exposed "cleavage" that heavily resemble smudges of newspaper ink {wash much, bitch? I keed lol} she is all that you desire and more (the rooster haircut was more than even I had bargained for). Being able to put a face to all of the many . . . interesting . . .things you’ve already told me about her has opened my eyes quite a bit.

As much as I hate to play prophet (though a facebook quiz I recently took confirmed that prophesy is my calling) I can see your future clearly. In another year or so, Her will be pregnant with your child (well, this won’t actually be able to be confirmed until the DNA test results are in, but let’s hope for the best, mmkay?) and two years from now you’ll be racking your brain trying to figure out how you got yet another Bonequisha-esque, hoodrat chick pregnant. You’ll be at home with all of your little “chicken nuggets” while Her is out at the club dropping it like it’s hot right next to your first babymom’s (whom I affectionately have dubbed “Chicken Hut”)

Now I understand why you and I could not be. Despite your claims that Chicken Hut’s hoodrat ways came as a shock to you (even tho in the every next breath you told me how she was 14yrs. old drinking 40’s when you met her), I can now see that that is what you like. It’s ok, really. As much as they enjoy it, not every man can handle a real woman. Some men need their woman to be out in the clubs every night, neglecting their kids, flirting with their best friends and taking days off from work so that the can get high. I now understand why our deep discussions on everything from the best rapper dead or alive to gentrification to the state of the black family or our mutual interests in the works of W.E.B Dubois, Karl Marx and Herbert Spencer or us being able to go from homies to lovers to confidants to (respectful) debating opponents was not enough for me to preserve your affections. I can now see why despite my ability to “ride” for you (without you even being my man for most of our time knowing each other) and notwithstanding the fact that my strength was something you have always complimented me on (along with my mothering skills, cooking abilities and oral techniques . . . but I digress). As I was saying, in spite of the fact that you labeled me “The BEST, hands down” in my sexual abilities, today I can clearly see why it was Her that you chose and not I . . . .


You sir, are a pussy.

Introducing: "Older Gentleman-friend" (OG)

Because I've mentioned him twice already, I figured it would only be right to introduce my readers to 'ole mr magic himself, my "Older Gentleman-friend"(OG).

I met my OG about six years ago about 6 months after Ex-fiance and I parted ways. I was standing at a bus stop one night on my way home from a Fashion Entertainment Board meeting at my school when a Jeep Cherokee pulled up in front of me and a very distinguished looking man hopped out. As he approached me, I accessed his appearance to determine whether he would be given the time of day. Tall? Check. Good looking? Check. Well dressed? Check. Only thing left was to see if all of that became insignificant once he opened his mouth. I said a silent prayer that this attractive, slightly older gentleman would not utter anything even remotely close to "Hey shorty, what it dew?". I was pleasantly surprised when he said "Hi, how are you? My name is OG and I had to stop when I saw you."

He explained that he was in a rush, but offered me a ride since it was sort of late. I declined giving him the "My mother told me not to take rides with strangers" line and I instead provided him with my telephone number when he asked. He called me the next day and we had your average introductory conversation: marital status? Kids, if so how many? Interests. . etc. We made a date to go out for drinks the following weekend. We spoke throughout the week leading up to our date and he had my attention.

Fast forward a few weeks and he had become my drinking sponsor. I was 22 at the time and was just getting acquainted with liquors 80 proof and higher. Though he was older, we had a lot of things in common and never really had those uncomfortable lulls in conversation that sometimes happens.

Because he had a daughter that was a mere eight years younger than I, OG was never put in to the "potential boyfriend" category. In fact, we have often gone thru phases when we are extremely hot and heavy, and then some when we don't speak at all.

He has since become a very crucial part of my life even though it has not been until the past month or so that I've learned of vital information about him (Like the fact that he had just gotten out of a 6 year marriage when we met and that he'd had a vasectomy, and that he used to be a chef).

Our relationship became sexual within the first three months of us dating and I am inclined to believe that part of the reason why we have not lost touch for too long is due to his big *ahem* ego ( he talks like this cuz he can back it up, he can back it up, he talks like this cuz he can back it uuuuuup! lol). I see him now as my "break in case of emergencies" penis and he never disappoints.

OG is what my bestie describes as "strange". (She and I JUST recently came to this realization about him and the word fits him so damned well). Now I don't mean he is strange in the trekkie convention kind of way, more like, he just . . .I don't know. He lies about very minor things. Though at one point we lived a mere 4 or 5 blocks from one another, there would be times when I would not see him AT ALL- not his car parked on his block, not riding down the street, NOT. AT. ALL. And then out of nowhere he'll call and pick up where he left off with me like it was nothing. He owns two cars besides "Baby", and they are all 2005 and later, yet he will ALWAYS cry broke. ( I susupect he does this to avoid hitting "Sugar Daddy" status w/me,despite the fact that I have never asked him for anything and he just offers things to me randomly) One time he was complaining about how broke he was and then two days later picked me up with a new tv installed in "Baby". I have no idea where he gets this money from even though I know he drives trucks as a day job. Though we are both extremely guilty of using the other for sex, he sucks at the morning-after call and that irritates the hell out of me. There have been many times throughout our "friendship" that I revoked his coochie coupon due to his inability to show his respect for me the morning "after". Now, don't get me wrong, he was never a potential boyfriend, so my feelings were never hurt, he just needed to be trained. In fact, up until recently, it had been years since he and I did anything sexual and he still has yet to regain all of the privileges that he once had.

But, I realize that he is one of the few (if not the only) male(s) that I can actually call my friend. I have had two boyfriends (Mr. Big and Rocky) since meeting him and was able to talk to and get advice about both of them from him. When Rocky got locked up there was a period of a week or two where no one knew what was going on with him and OG was able to talk to a few friends and get me his contact and visitation info. When Mr. Big and I stopped speaking regularly, OG became the person that would set me up with the "chief" and a stiff penis when needed. He has also proven himself to be quite relaible when it comes to giving rides when it's raining or late and I can call him at any time, day or night just to say "Hey" and babble about stupid things and he picks up and listens (despite having to be to work at 5am).

When his daughter was in high school, I was the one who made him aware of the sneakiness that all teenage girls behold and strongly encouraged him to keep an eye on her. We joke now at how funny it is that I was trying to convince him then that she was into some shit and now I have to constantly convince him that her spending her money like it's water doesn't make her a crackhead, it just makes her a 20 year old with no children.

Also, OG was the reason for my first ever groupie moment. It was about four years ago and I had cut him off in order to pursue other options and had not spoken to him in about four or five months. Then one day I saw him ride by in "Baby" his spanking new royal blue Mercedes coup with the all-white leather interior. My butt had to come in contact with those buttery seats. I had to get behind the wheel (did I mention that OG was also the person who taught me how to drive?) and I had to have at least two of my exes see me doing so. So, he and I began speaking again and I accomplished all of the above.

Yep, OG has a special place in my heart for many reasons. But, I think the main reason is because in all the time that I have known him, another woman has NEVER been an issue. I have never received any calls (yes, I do keep in mind that this could be due to the age/maturity of the possible women). But I have never so much as seen him in the car with another woman. (and I can not honestly say how I would react if I ever did). There has never been an instance when I've called and he does the I'm-next-to-another-woman-that-I'm-also-boning-and-I-don't-want-either-of-you-to-know-that-the-other-is-a-female double talk. I can call him at absolutely anytime of night and he either answer immediately or calls me back within 5 minutes.

He has done some shiesty things (like the time he moved to Atlanta and didn't tell me, then called a month later like "Oh hey, guess what?"). He is so mysterious with certain things that it's almost crackheadish. But I am starting to believe alot of his moves are to "protect" his daughter whom he has had custody of since splitting from her mother.

But, despite his semi-crackish ways, I can say that I have love for him and I know in his own twisted way, the feeling is mutual. We had made plans last week to go to City Hall to get married, you know, just cause, but I had an appointment for an eye brow waxing that I couldn't miss. So, who knows what the future will hold for Enigma and OG. . .

For those inquiring minds, 16 years. That's the age difference.

"You have a nice life 2"

Mr. Big Saga Wrap-up

A week later I saw that his facebook status had changed to "In a relationship" and I shut down for awhile. So many things went thru my head, I can't even. . . .

Fast forward (again) to us exchanging belongings and me "discovering" that he wasn't in a relationship. (His explanation for changing it was that it was in order to repel a couple of girls on his friends list. At the time, he an I were not facebook friends because I had deleted him, so I didn't even get into how he disregarded my feelings. He truly didn't think I'd ever see it. Oh, and don't ask how I knew his facebook status had changed, just keep in mind that my incessant need to know what's going on keeps me busy.)

Anyway, after that night we talked on and off and I called him a few nights just to prove (to myself, I guess) that "Her" couldn't be all that if he was still dropping every thing and running whenever I called.

I stopped sleeping with him a few weeks ago, and he called every now and then. I was getting good at breathing without him around and tried to move on. I had accepted him as my facebook friend again, but was doing a good job at ignoring his existence. I didn't even update my status with him in mind. lol But, I lost my shit when I logged on and saw his status front and center: "Had a great day with my baby boo and her fam".

I dialed Sprint immediately and changed my number, I blocked and deleted him from my facebook page and last weekend I moved out of my apartment. I tried my damnedest to change my email, but discovered it would be too much work. I need to move on. I need for him to not have access to me. I am the only element that I can control, so I had to do every thing in my power to ensure that he couldn't reach me when he felt inclined to because I don't feel strong enough to not get sucked back in.

My test came just yesterday when I got an im from him:

Mr. Big (11.47am): Hi Tee
Mr. Big (11.54am): No hi?
Mr. Big (12.01am): You have a nice life 2

Now, I can't take too many kudos for being strong, because I didn't see the msg until after he had logged off. But, to my credit, when I did see it, I did't email him or im him and let him know why I hadn't responded immediately. I let it end at " You have a nice life 2".

As one of my favorite ppl would say: Time to rebuild this house of cards with Kings and Queens and get these Jokers out of here!

I think I'm ready to move on . . .

Let's finish the Mr. Big saga up, shall we? (Pt. I of II)

After seeing Mr. Big's status change to "In a Relationship", I stopped speaking to him for awhile. Somehow, on the day he actually came to do the exchange of belongings routine, we ended up "chiefing" and started talking casually again. (No, we didn't sex that night) I was, however, able to get some alone time with his blackberry (Yes, I know I shouldn't, but I do. I'm a work in progress) Anywho, I was able to read the more recent texts from his "Her" and found out that they were not in a relationship at the time. ( apparently him having two children was something she was not sure she was ready to deal with) Now the "Her" in question is someone that he and I spoke about often while we were boo loving. We both knew that the other had bench players in the background and we would talk about them often. "Her" was someone he described as a "chicken with a Masters". Yes, she had her degrees(s) but she was unemployed and if he text her at 12 noon asking what she was doing, her reply would usually be either "On *insert random hood block here* smoking with *insert random ghetto ass name of friend here*" or "Watching Jerry Springer". He'd told me that after “Her” bragged about how guys usually told her how bomb her sex was, he had to hold back from laughing in her face the first time they did it because it was so whack and her sex faces were so ugly. Also, among a host of other things, he often spoke about how he often had to give her the “bitch whatever!” side eye. Oh, and let's not forget the time he told me he'd picked her up to "cheif" and she left an "odor" in his car when she got out. (yea)

Now the two of them begin talking in July of last year. For the summer, he wild out and smutted the place up while I “dated”. By the time October rolled around, Mr. Big and I were on full on “boo boo” status. He was at my house most nights, we cooked together, laughed/cried about life together, played Xbox together, had bomb ass sex together and in November I convinced him that I wanted to meet the “Chief” and he made it happen. Christmas rolled around and we shopped for our children together, hell, I even wrapped his sons’ presents while he was at work. New Year’s Eve we bought 2009 in in the 69 position, together. Sometime between then and Valentine’s Day something happened. I remember one night he stood me up and then gave me a foogazy reason. That let me know that something or someone one was affecting his actions towards me. So about a week after he had been a no-show, we were standing in my kitchen cooking and I asked him the status of his “team”. He told me for the most part that it had been dismantled, but that “Her” and he had been talking more lately and were good friends. He said she had recently contacted him to “talk” and that they had been speaking again, but not having sex. I was visibly upset about this for a couple of reasons. For one, when we’d first started talking again, he had just gotten out of a long-term relationship with his sons’ mother and she had did him extremely dirty. I was there for him. I listened to him bitch about her, I gave him advice on how to handle his kids’ well-being. In essence, I was his fucking rock thru his hard time.

The two of us had never said we would be together. He never promised that once his shit was together it would be “us”. But I would be lying if I said that was not exactly what I believe in the back of my mind. I knew he had to mourn the end of the relationship and get back on his feet. I also knew that he and I being together would cause major issues with him, his sons’ mother and his sons (at one point in our relationship, I alerted his sons’ mother to the fact that he and I were together. The abridged version: he had told me they were broken up, I fell in love, I found out the truth, I blew up his spot like an army grenade, his son’s mother saw me as the Devil, they stayed together and I threw up deuces.)

Anyway, when he and I were back “on”, everything was so right and came so naturally that I had ASSumed that we felt the same way about each other and that once he was ready we would be (naturally) be together. Ok, I was wrong.

The night before Valentine’s Day he had stayed over and left for work that morning. We hadn’t had sex in about a week (that equated to about a month for us). We were no longer talking on the phone as often and it was no longer assumed that he would be in my bed at night.

About a week after Valentine’s Day, he had stayed over again and I had managed to spend some quality time with his blackberry again. (yea, I know). I had read texts from him to two of his platonic friends and he was talking about his “Boo” to them both. While one of the friends remarked “I guess you can turn a ho into a housewife” to his claim that she was “impressing him”, the other friend wrote that he deserved to be back in love. Oh, did I mention that the “boo” in question was not me??? This crushed me to no end and the next morning I was out of it. I got dressed and off to work as he still lay in my bed. When I got on the train he called me, he had seen me upset that morning and wanted to make sure I was ok. As I sat on the train crying behind my dark shades, I somehow managed to ask him the question that had always been hanging in the air. ‘If you were ready, would it be me?” He let out a deep breath like he knew the day would come when I would muster up the courage to ask and then he replied: “I doubt it. I think I need to start over with a whole new girl”.

Did I mention that HE WAS STILL IN MY BED WHEN HE TOLD ME THIS????

He then said that he and I needed time apart so that we could try to salvage a platonic friendship. I asked him if he really thought he would be able to be with someone else and not come to me for his “girlfriend needs” (i.e crying, bomb sex and that general chill factor, you know, the person you are once the stage lights are off and your at home with the costume that you let the world see you in hanging in the closet). He told me that he knew what he was giving up but that he felt like it was what he had to do.

I think my heart just exploded

Mr. Big just changd his facebook status to "In a Relationship".

It's been exactly one week since he thought "we need some space".

Ouch.

Enigma & Mr. Big: Break-Up #1 of 1,650,880,540

Mr. Big and I continued to talk and get to know one another as the months passed and before long we made it official. I was living at home with my mother at the time and once my semester was over I realized that she and I could no longer co-exist peacefully. We definitely needed space. My oldest sister lived in East Bumblefuck, GA and was due to give birth to my nephew at any minute. I saw this as the perfect chance to put some distance between myself and my menopausal ass mother. Another one of my sister’s had just been STRONGLY “encouraged” by her doctor to take a much needed hiatus form her job, so she, myself and my child made plans to head south.

As expected, I felt some hesitation at leaving my newly blossoming relationship, but I had spent a greater part of my previous relationship catering to the wants and needs of the very guys that had broke my heart, so this time around, I was going to do what made ME happy and whomever I was with would just need to fall in line or roll the fuck out. To my delight, Mr. Big chose to fall in line.

We discussed my departure at length, the summer was just starting and I made it a point to let him know that if he felt he couldn’t keep the snake in the cage while I was gone, he should just let me know and we could call the whole thing off. He assured me that a few weeks was nothing and he’d be here waiting when I returned. *swoon*

Mr. Big and I talked on the phone several times a day every day while I was gone. Everything seemed fine until they clearly weren’t anymore. I asked him about the vibe change that I was feeling. I can remember the conversation just as clearly as if it just happened yesterday. I was standing on my sister’s balcony looking at the remains of a tree that had been struck by lightening in a thunderstorm just the day before. My newborn nephew had been home from the hospital for just a few days and I was in the process of making his bottles when Mr. Big had called, so I still had the spoon in my hand that I’d used to fish out the nipples from the boiling water.

I focused all of my attention and energy on that burned up tree trunk as he told me about how his kids’ mother had been going hard at trying to get him back. He then paused and let out a loud exasperated sigh. To this I responded, and it’s working. Not a question, more like just the obviously outcome. Love had never worked out for me before, so I had become used to the fact that it never would-no matter how right it seemed to feel. He said yes and we said our goodbyes. That was the end of me and Mr. Big.

A few days later I received a call from my financial aid advisor at my school telling me that they had not received a signed form indicating that I was accepting my financial aid package for the upcoming semester. After being told that this was something I would have to do in person and fax would not suffice, I booked a flight home to handle my business. Being that I was only going to be gone for a day or two, I left my son with my sisters and hopped flew home.

I was able to get my business at the school handled in less than 30 minutes and then realized that I was home and baby-free for the first time in awhile—time to get BUCKWILD. Lol I called up an older gentleman friend of mine who did the best magic tricks I’d ever seen- he could make the liquor in my cup appear again and again without me ever having to even think about my wallet! Lol He picked me up that night and we headed to the same bar in which I’d met Mr. Big. Now, let me be clear, the night that he and I went was in the middle of the week. The bar had more of a happy hour after work feel to it the night we went as opposed to the “Thug Night” extravaganza that it had a reputation for being on the weekends. So never in my mind did I think we’d run into Mr. Big there. But . . . we did. Older gentleman and I had been at the bar for all of 30 minutes when I got up to use the ladies room. It was on my way back to my seat that I noticed Mr. Big’s best friend sitting just a few stools down and right beside him. . . . yep, Mr. Big. Now though he and I were no longer together, and for all intents and purposes, he broke up with me, part of me felt guilty for being there. Or at least I did until he made a big show of sending some floozy across from me a drink to get my attention.

Done with the games, I whispered in my older gentleman friend’s ear that I was ready to get out of there and he and I made our way to the exit. He dropped me off home soon after and I could not get Mr. Big off of my mind. For some reason I was extremely concerned that he would think that I’d been seeing this guy while he and I were together and that was the farthest from the truth. I tried to fight it, but the urge to call him was too strong. So I did. But, forever a game player, I hung up after only letting the phone ring twice-just long enough so that my number would show on his cell’s caller id. My thinking was that if he wanted to talk, he’d call back, if not. . . .I never got a chance to finish that thought because my ringing phone interrupted it.

I could tell right away that he was tight. So I said the only thing that I could really think of, which was the God’s honest truth. “I called you because I wanted you to know that he bought me home and that’s it.” I could hear him loosen up on the other end of the phone. He then went on to tell me how angry he felt seeing me with someone else. He said his friend kept looking at him weird as hell because he’d never seen Mr. Big loose his cool over a female like that-ever. I told him how I didn’t expect him to be there and I didn’t go there to rub anything in his face. We both laughed when he replied ‘Well, I damn sure sent that drink to rub it in your face”. I asked what he was doing and he said he was at the all-night supermarket buying cereal and that he was coming to me as soon as he left there. I didn’t protest.

I’d been sitting in my dark living room while was talking to him, and still hadn’t made a move to turn on the lights or the television by the time he’d gotten there. I let him into the darkness and sat on the couch. He was still standing up trying to let his eyes adjust when something animalistic* came over me. I absolutely had to taste him. We had had sex many times since that first night, but I had had yet to open up too much sexually with him. I felt myself losing control as I reached for his belt buckle and undress him. I couldn’t stop myself. Once I pulled his pants down, I just sat back and admired the outline of his legs in the darkness. He had the most perfectly toned legs I’d ever seen. I moved in closer to him and just inhaled. I couldn’t believe that I was actually turned on by the sheer essence of him. I finally fulfilled the desire to taste him and we then made love on my mother’s couch. I can honestly say that from that night on. . . I was hooked.

* In hindsight, I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, the animal in me was coaxed out by those shots of henny I'd had at the bar just a few short hrs ago! lol

And I wish I never met him. . . .

*Written for Myspace January 9, 2007


I'm not sure if it's the knowledge that the dreaded Valentine 's Day is but a mere month or so away and I have yet to secure a patsy or that it is one of the few things noticeably absent from my comfortable, almost-perfect life right now. But whatever the reason, LOVE has been on my mind more than usual these days.

Now I'm not talking about the LOVE I reserve for my child, my Mom and my friends and family. I'm talking about that I-cry-when-you-hurt LOVE. That let's –run-our-errands-together-cause-we-don't-wanna-be-apart-for-too-long LOVE. You know . . . ROMANTIC LOVE.

Now, as I mentioned, currently my LOVE life leaves much to be desired (oh,don't cry for me Argentina, my sex life, however, is alive and kicking!). But, I've been decidedly out of LOVE for a little over 5 months now. The crazy thing is that despite the nasty, heart wrenching break-up, I never thought that I regretted the relationship. It was hands down the best relationship that I'd ever been in. In fact, if there is such a thing as a soul mate or a true LOVE, I know that my ex was/(is?) that person. It is for that reason that I was grateful for having even met him. So much so that during a rough patch in our two year relationship, instead of bitching and moaning about what a f*ck up he was, I wrote in my journal and thanked God for allowing me to have met my soul mate, even knowing at the time the he and I would not spend our lives together.

At that time and even for a brief time following our break-up, I truly believe that it was better to have LOVED and lost then to have never LOVED at all. Now I could sit here and write paragraphs and pages about how enchanted our relationship was but, honestly, I feel that doing so would only bastardize what we had. But what I will share is that my ex is the one person that truly knows me and not one of my many representatives and characters that I use to communicate with those around me. He knows Enigma, not hood-Enigma, or college-girl Enigma or the fully-loaded, I-don't-give-a-f*ck -Enigma . . . that man knows ME. All of my many faults and weaknesses that I guard from the world, he knows - and at one point in time he loved, accepted, understood, and could relate to them all.

It was my belief that just knowing that there was one person in this world who really, truly knew me . . . and LOVED me . . . unconditionally . . . despite my imperfections . . . was enough for me. Just having had the opportunity to experience a LOVE and connection of that caliber with someone was all that I needed. That is, until the days turned to nights, and the nights turned cold and then the parade of clowns started to plague my Friday evenings. Anyone who's been there knows that the dating scene in itself sucks. But to feel as if you're wasting your time looking for Mr. Right because you've already met him, and lost him.. .it's hard to not be discouraged.

On one hand, I now know that there is such a thing as a "true LOVE". But, on the other hand, as I lay in my bed alone at night I know what I'm missing. I know that my "soul mate" is out there, he's just not with me and he and I will never be together. Is it any wonder that sometimes I wish that I didn't know? That I didn't have the memories of our time together seared into my brain?

It's not possible to miss something that you don't know exists, but is it really possible to truly exist when you miss something so much? Is it really better to have LOVED and lost than it is to have never LOVED at all?

Yes, bitch, I told Harpo to beat you.

So, in light of the Rchriahhnais (what? not all power-couple name-splices are cute, ppl), I decided to dig in the crates back over on da S'pace and pull out a blog I wrote regarding domestic violence against woman. Now this was written May of '07 and I cannot say that my opinion on this has changed. Regarding Rchriahhnais specifically, I say that Chris Brown needs to be charged and get his ass wooped by a couple of men. I've played every scenerio in my head of what could have went down and each time he comes out looking like a big 'ole saggy, smelly pussy. (yes, I could have made p-word all pretty and put 5's instead of S's or something, but you will soon learn that this just isn't one of those blogs. Plus I am forcing myself to not be afraid of that word anymore.) But yea, he's a big 'ole douchebag. I'm saying, a backhand or something would have prolly sufficed to at least calm her down if she was wildin'. But 'ole boy waa-aa-aa-aaailed on dat ass! That shit just ain't right.

SMDH

Anywho, the blog is below and it features Mr. Big (he's the one I slapped, not the one I bit)

 {Sidebar: Didn't that last sentence make me sound massive badass??? lol}

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Since the end of my semester I have had the thought of abusive relationships on my mind. I hesitated in blogging about it because I am fully aware of the fact that my view of some cases of physical abuse aren't the most popular. But then I realized. . .when have I ever given a damn about someone disagreeing with me????

Anywho, those who know me are already familar with my stance on men hitting women: It is absolutely wrong and bitch-like for a man to even think about beating a woman. And doing so should lead to him being confined to a tiny cell with a Big man who likes other men for a looong time. That being said. . .I don't buy into the whole "It's never right for a man to hit a woman. . .blah, blah, blah." shit

Say what you want about woman being smaller and weaker physically. . .but c'mon. . .some of these chicks are just begging to get hit. {Sidebar #2: if ur feeling tight all up in ya chest already, please refer to the heading of my blog page* That's right, I said it. . . .some. women. ask. tobe. hit. Case in point, remember the scene in Baby Boy. . .when he was trying to leave but his girl kept trying to hold him and was hitting him and shit? Remember how he backhanded her ass? Yup, she had that one a comin'!

All I'm saying is, women who do shit like that. . .and provoke men and try to prevent them from walking away and putting space between each other should fully expect to get the taste smacked out their mouth. Please don't get me wrong, I'm only talking about these woman, not the ones that are getting the life beat out of them for no.damn.reason, other than the fact that their men are nuts. No, I am only talking about the woman who will go so far as to hit the man first and then be confused when they wake up 30 minutes later on the ground. Now mistake me not, I have done it myself. I smacked the taste out of my last boyfriend's mouth after I found out he'd been cheating. But. . .please understand. . .despite his size, I was FULLY prepared to fight that man. In fact, i smacked him just so that he would know I wasn't playing with him. He was fully aware of how I felt about women who hit men and I needed him to understand that i was ready to get it poppin. I still think I could have taken him if he'd hit me back. Only because i was that mad. . .being that angry gives you a superhuman strength like no other. He must've seen the crazy in my eyes cause he just walked out and didn't look back. lol That was the only man I've ever raised a hand to and even then, I would have been ready for whatever he thru at me as a result on my actions.

I truly believe that the fundamental difference between men and women is that women tend to be very v o c a l. They wanna talk shit out all day and all nite. Guys are more like "give me a minute to think, damn!". Plus, they're, for the most part, not too big on the whole arguing thing. So for a man and woman to be arguing heatedly and to have the woman physically prevent the man from leaving or even raises her hand to him? Yea, I can totally understand why she'd get her jaw tapped.

Now I know what some of you are think. . ."how could she condone that?" "You can't say something like that if you've never been in the situation" " Why must we always blame the victim?". To you people, I say. . .you are absolutely right. No, I have never been hit by a man, but I have had a boyfriend that thought it was ok to grab me, hold me somewhere against my will, pop up at my girlfriend's house to "take me home cause I was taking too long", the list can go on and on to the break of dawn with all the crazy shit he did in the short time we dated. Now this dude was 6'5", weighed 200+, stayed working it out at the gym and could pick my ole' chunky ass up with absolutely NO problem. But even with his size and strength being so superior to mine, I reacted ev-er-yyyy time he got out of hand. The most relevent time being while we were at his house and he tried to stop me from leaving to catch the very last bus home after he and I had argued damn near the entire day. He was grabbing me and was pinning me against the wall (and not in the good way schm). Then, as he had my hands pinned above my head against the wall. . he tried to kiss me. As if that situation was turning him on somehow. Freaked out by that, I did the ony thing I could do and BIT THE SHIT OUTTA HIS LIP. He yelled. Blood splattered. His female cousin who had been in a back room heard him yell, saw the blood, watched me gather my shit and then dropped me home on her way to taking taking his big dumb ass to the hospital. Yea, it was that bad. He had to get 7 (even though I am quite certain it was more like 11) stitches in his bottom lip. What can I say? I freaked out. And he paid the price for manhandling me, dammit! hmmph.

Plus, I was well aware at the time (I think I was like 19 or 20) that my mom had been abused by TWO of her husbands. That was not going to be me. So I had to make it clear to him that shit like that would not be tolerated. That ended us as a couple, and gave me a very good story to tell future boyfriends to come: I will fight to the death to defend myself and my offspring. It is my natural right.

It is because I feel this way that I also don't understand women that stay in abusive relationships. I know the general belief is that many women stay due to their lack of income, education and general ablity to support themselves independent of their spouse. I am also fully aware that the second assumed reason woman stay is due to lack of self-esteem. Bull! with all of the resource sthat we have these days, it is VERY diffucult for me to grasp the concept of "no options. In 2009? Word? (again, guess I just can't relate)

What do you think, is it as black and white as "Boys don't hit girls" or are there some hues of gray?

Ya know what?

I have too many damned blogs scattered across the web. So, in an effort to keep my mind off of Mr. Big's indefinate abscence. *tear* I'll be moving all of my blogs to this page this weekend. I'll try to keep them in some kind of order but. . . well, I'm not sure how I'll fair at that, so bare with me.

Time to get comfortable in the new digs!

p.s. He's coming tonight to do the whole "belongings exchange".


Dear Lord please don't let me cry in front of him. *SIGH*

*sigh* So can we talk?

Alright ya’ll I know I was dead ass wrong for starting a blog and then just letting the shit accumulate cobwebs. But trust me, I have a good excuse. What, you ask? I have been boo’d up and loving every milli second of it. But, just like a friend who stops going out with the girls on a reg when she gets new peen in her life, here I am writing and begging for forgiveness now that my boo is gone. :(

So, in my effort to move on and (hopefully) get this guy out of my system for once and for all (hopefully) *crossing fingers* I figured I need to do what so many do and blog it the fuck out from the beginning. Yep, the entire twisted tale that not even Myspace got the privilege of reading.

*sigh*

Here goes. . . .
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Begining of Enigma and Mr. Big: A Series of Unfortunate Events
It had been about six month since Ex-Fiance and I had broken up and I was doing what most would have in my situation: pAAArtying like a rock star!!! Now, prior to this breakup, I had been a fan of the notion that the best way to get over one guy is to get under another one, but this time I was trying the whole “me-time” thing. So guys were the furthest thing from my mind as long as I had a row dog and the bars were serving long island ice teas for cheap in the hood.

So I was oblivious to the guy across the bar from me who’s been staring since I sat down and who decided to leave at the precise moment that my bestie and I “slow motioned*” our way to the car. Just as I was about to slide into the passenger side seat, I heard something I very rarely hear from the opposite sex trying to holla: “Excuse me gorgeous. Do you mind if I take up a minute of your time?”. Simple? Absolutely. But when your used to hearing “I’m saying tho shorty what’s really good wit’ you???” ANYthing else sounds sexy.

So, I responded in a way I usually don’t. I actually stopped and gave dude an audience. Now, I must admit, he was not my type when I first laid eyes on him. He was big like I like ‘em, but I just wasn’t completely impressed by his face upon first glance. But, I liked his conversation and we exchanged numbers. He called me about an hour later. Now, usually this would have annoyed me, but again, his words had me. . .impressed. He said he’d only called me so soon after getting the number because he’s learned that certain woman believe the man should make the first call (and I do). Then he said that since he’d gotten that out of the way, the next call would have to be initiated by me and if he did not hear back from me he’d take it as a loss and keep it moving. If ever there were a “gotcha bitch” moment, that was his as far as I’m concerned! I called him the next day and we stayed on the phone for hours talking as if we had known each other for years. We had the most interesting and personal conversation I had EVER had with a member of the opposite sex. Talking to him came so easily for me, I really found my self saying things to him that I’d never said to anyone else, nor that I’d allowed myself to think. It just seemed so easy with him. I think it also helped that at that point, I was so “not beat” for the penis-havers that I truly spoke my mind with him. He got “Enigma” from day one, not a representative.

We continued to speak on the phone for the rest of the week and then one day he called and I told him I was at the bar (of course) where we’d met. He told me he was just a few blocks away and that he’d pick me up. He came in with one of his boys and the four of us (I had two girlfriends there with me) had a round. Now, let me take a minute to fill ya’ll in on a lil secret: I had been at the bar for at least an hour before the guys arrived and I had long since threw away that whole “don’t mix liquors” rule. (Remember this. it plays a part in how the night ends up)

Anywho, he and I eventually leave. We get to the car and he tells me that it’s his mother’s. ok, fine. I can deal with that. Once inside I take note of the air freshener around the rear view mirror that says “Princess” and the car seat in the back. Now, during our initial getting-to-know-you convo, he’d told me how he had two chirren by the same woman and that she and he had split after she cheated and he found out. H.S sweetheart gone bad and all that otha stuff. Ok, fine. I wasn’t planning on marrying the dude, so his baggage didn’t bother me. In fact, I’d decided that he would be the lucky guy to benefit from my 6-month drought. Ya girl was HORNY!!!! So much so that as he was talking about what it was about me that made him holla, I cut him and said “Cut the bullshit, you stopped me because you saw me and wanted to smash”. As he sat there with his mouth open trying not to smile at my brazenness, I continued “Ain’t no way you were in that bar, chugging henny and thinking about how interesting you thought my conversation would be. You wanna hit, so don’t bullshit me let’s make it do what it do.” ( I know. . *hangs head in shame* but that’s where I was at the time. I didn’t want to sit and talk about the future or anything, I wanted sex and he was there and did I mention I wanted sex?)

Twenty minutes later we’re in the hotel room making out heavily. He eventually goes down on me and I was excited because he almost it (I had to teach him to swallow during our later meetings) made me cum. At that point, only one guy had ever made me orgasm, no one else had even come close. So I knew that he had potential. I was only further impressed once he put on a condom and we got down to it. ‘Ole boy was blessed and knew what he was doing with it. Good combo. Mama was please. Lol

About 10 minutes into it, he stopped and said he had to use the bathroom. When he came back, he told me how he’d been to the doctor earlier that week and that he’d been having problems keeping it up do to it I can’t remember exactly what it was that he said was wrong, but I remember he said he had to drink lots of cranberry juice and we went back and forth with me asking questions making sure it wasn't an STI..it was more of a urinary thing. Anywho, we laid there talking for a minute just naked, happy and free until . . . . . remember my sidebar before about mixing drinks? Yea, they all turned on me at the same time. I flew to the bathroom and spent the next 10-15 minutes alternating between pooping and throwing up. Gross, I know. Now the kicker is, I am SUCH a girly-girl when it comes to certain thing (burping, farting, etc) and the thought of doing any of those things in front of a guy used to make my left eye twitch and my ass itch just a little, until Mr. Big. I didn’t feel embarrassed about the night’s events at all and he didn’t seem to hold anything against me. We were. . chill, real chill. And vice versa, the whole, “I gotta pee” thing didn’t make me look at him any differently. Somehow I truly believed that he was just having a bad night.

When I came bathroom, I let him know that I wasn't feeling well and that I needed to go home. As we got our stuff together and walked out to the car, I remember thinking, “Mmm, I’ve definitely gotta try him again!” He dropped me and called me twenty minutes later to see if I was feeling any better. (I wasn’t—lesson learned! Lol)


To be continued. . . . .




*I’m not sure why, but for some reason whenever I get drunk, Juvenile’s song Slow Motion is on repeat in my head.