Tuesday, October 11, 2016

99 Problems But a Bitch Is Definitely Not One

February 27, 2012
I'm sitting at brunch with the man that I have absolutely fallen in love with and he's leaving me by myself to go be with his girlfriend. And now, I'm more determined to get drunk than I ever have been in my entire life. Shots. Beers. Whiskey. More shots. And then.. phone calls.

I've always known I was a little... different. My first memories of sex are from watching HBO's, "Real Sex". This was back during the first couple of episodes. I think they're on Real Sex 352 now, but I digress. There was one episode when this older group of people were at a sex "camp". Everyone got naked and were all touching each other and rubbing and stuff. For a preteen kid who is trying to discover himself, this was hot! Even if they were old and gross. While watching these balding, saggy, wrinkly people touching all up on each other, I notice something... why am I looking more at the men than I am the women? What does THAT mean?! In my pursuit of discovery of what my wondering eyes were doing, I started watching more soft core porn. You know - Red Shoe Diaries, the late night/early morning movies on cable that didn't show anything but the girls breasts and bad acting. Ha. Yea. Like I was paying attention to the acting...
I realized growing up that I was a very sexual guy. Any chance to "rub it" I got was taken. The bathroom, the couch, the car, the dressing room; the more chance of getting caught, the hotter it was. I guess it was much like any other kid that age. The only difference was that I was doing it to things OTHER kids weren't doing it to. I spent the rest of my preteens thinking this was a phase. "You'll grow out of it once you get to high school." And then high school hit. And then college. And then adulthood. And the only thing that grew was my belly. I spent most of the years questioning why I had to be different and hating myself for it. To the point of pulling that card and making myself not wake up in the morning.

And then I met him. We'll call him X. We met through a mutual friend and hit it off from the first day. The more time we spent together, the more I was convinced that this is what I had been waiting for my entire life. The only problem was he was straight and I didn't have a vagina. We did things (nothing like THAT), said things, talked about things that forced me to ask one night, "What is this? What is this between us?"
"More than friendship."
"Right! What is it?!"
And nothing. No response. No confirmation. Just an excuse that he was so drunk, he doesn't remember the conversation ever happening. May of that year, a good friend Jason saw there was something up. He took me outside during one of my many going-away-parties and changed my life forever. All he did was ask the question and I was in such a position and so frustrated and hurt that I had to say something. I spent the next 2 years trying to figure out how to tell anyone else - including X. Up to this point, he had no idea that the love I had in my heart was for him.

That Sunday in February 2012, after my 235 alcoholic beverage, I texted Mindee to meet me at another bar. I couldn't take this shit anymore. I had to let it out or I was going to explode. And praise the Lord she did...
For an hour, she wondered what was wrong and why I kept ordering drinks. So I told her... "I'm in love with X". Around the time of my next shot, I picked up my phone and texted him. Liquid courage, right?
"Do you know why I act so crazy??? Do you know why I get this way with you??! It's because I'm in love with you."

And the clock stopped. And my heart dropped to my knees. And it was done. I couldn't breathe. For 2 years, I thought that the moment that I told him, that would be the end. He would go away and the one shred of "me" that I saw when I was with him would die. The hate in my heart for my reflection was going to overtake the rest of me and I would just disappear into the air.
Have you ever known someone that is so "in tune" that when something goes wrong, they come around the corner like Superman? That is my  mother. My mother is so psychic, Ms Cleo called HER for advise. Her intuition is so on point that when one of her kids is doing something bad, her shoe just automatically comes off and hits us in the back of the head. It's uncanny.
At that very moment in my life when I couldn't think of anything but that moment in my life, my mother's Batman signal went off and she texted me.
"How are you?"
And that was it. I told X, why not my mother, too.
"I might be playing for the other team."

"Well. What happens in your bedroom is your business."

And I cried.

In a matter of an hour, I had told the secret that I've held in my heart for 30 years because of the shame I was afraid would come with it. The hate I held for myself. The nights I cried myself to sleep. The days I was upset because I woke up that day. The times I just wanted someone to love me the way I knew I could love. That feeling that know one really knew who I was. The times I would avoid my family because I didn't think they even understood who I was - to the point they thought I was ashamed of THEM... all exploded in those 5 minutes.

I freaked out. I walked outside and started to shake. And thank God for Mindee because without her there, I don't know what I would have done.
After more sorrow-drowning, Mindee took me home. And I went to sleep knowing that no matter who I was on Sunday, I was someone different on Monday.

The next morning, I woke up and got ready for work with this feeling that EVERYONE knew. And you know what... I didn't care. My head was higher. It hurt because of all of the alcohol on Sunday - but higher all the same. I looked in the mirror and smiled for the first time in a LONG time. It was absolutely a rebirth and I thank God every day that during all of this time, the people I was so afraid to tell didn't care.

You know. It's almost disappointing. I spent 30 years hating myself because I thought that if I told anyone, they wouldn't love me anymore. And it was the complete opposite. Ha. ALL THAT TIME, WASTED. But you know, I wouldn't be in the place I am right now if it weren't for time I spent in that dark place. All for a reason and no one can EVER make me doubt that.

Until next time...

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Big D's... HEY-O!

Hey, remember that one time I lived in New York? Ha. Oh man. That was fun.

In case you didn't know, I have moved back to Dallas as of less than a week ago. Bitter sweet, but I am where I believe I'm supposed to be - just like it was when I moved to New York. The move just fit into place and I couldn't deny it. I LOVE NEW YORK!! I absolutely do and you can't get me from visiting there - probably soon. But I gotta do what I gotta do, as far as work goes, so I'm back in the Big D, looking for a big D.... HEY-O! Haha. I'm just kidding. Or am I....

The trip down here was pretty uneventful once we got on the road. It was the getting on the road that was the problem. Uhaul wanted to schedule a pick up location near my apt but send the truck to Long Island. I called and they basically told me, "FOOLED YA!" so we had to wait until noon to pick up the truck when I wanted to start moving shit by 8am. BUT whatcanyado - we finally got on the road around 3pm and set fire to the rain.
I still don't know what that means.

This week here has been pretty fun. Went out in the Dallas area which is odd, because when I lived here before, I NEVER hung out in Dallas. It was all about Arlington and Ft Worth. Moving to Deep Ellum has been fucking amazing so far, though. I'm enjoying being able to walk everywhere still and having my choice of a $7 Uber to uptown and/or the gayborhood and/or Lower Greenville. Seven dollars!! That's ridiculous. It once cost me $75 to get home from the city to Queens. I got home and immediately bought 4 packs of ramen so I could eat the rest of the week. With my car being totaled, I guess being able to walk places is a good thing.

If you haven't heard from my mother, who apparently called the Waxahachie Daily Light and told e'rbody about it - I was in a car accident Friday. I stopped at a stop sign, looked right - saw the white truck next to me that looked like a truck my uncle used to have - looked left, looked right again and took off, not seeing the blue Ford Ranger until it was basically inside my drivers door. After my car stopped moving, I got out of my car. Stunned, I grabbed my phone and started to dial. I didn't know who I was calling and noticed my glasses weren't on my face so I went back to the car to find them. The other driver came to me and asked if I was ok and kept saying that he had insurance. "It's my dad's car so I'm trying to call him."
I finally grabbed ahold of my senses and called my mom and then the insurance company. All the while, the other driver kept telling me he's trying to call his dad.
"He's down the street at XXXX Park and XXXX. I need to go get him. Do you want to come with me?"
Naw nigga! I ain't trying to go with you to your house!! That's how episodes of 48 Hour specials start! You ain't fittin' to put ME in no hole in the backyard.
As I'm on the phone, I hear sirens and turn to see an ambulance had arrived. As I turned back around, that fool had taken off running. I didn't even see him running, I only saw a puff of smoke in the shape of a small black man like he was Bugs Bunny's homeboy.
A fire engine showed up, and 3 cop cars. The driver never came back but his father showed up with the insurance information. I came home and they basically told me that since he did flee and never came back, he would be at fault. Apparently, he had warrants out for unpaid tickets.
So, I have a small burn and an extremely sore shoulder, but otherwise I am ok. I mean, I needed another car anyway so I guess this was my sign to quit being a little bitch and go get one.

Andrew and I move into our two bedroom apt next Thursday which means I'm living in his living room on an air mattress right now. It's pretty crowded in here, but we're getting along pretty well. He is my heterosexual life partner so it works out. Ha.

I start my new position on Monday at the same place in Las Colinas. I'm pretty excited about it because it's an account I used to work on and with a lot of people that I miss dearly. Although, I did leave some pretty awesome people back in NYC too. And of course, the great friends that I made there. But... like Pac said to Biggy once (maybe - I might have made that up), "Once we homeboys, we always homeboys." So I hope they don't forget me.

The pub crawl is May 21, just in case my Facebook posts aren't telling you that enough. Ha. HOLLA!!

Until next time...