He Just Wasn't That Into Me

Winfrey does not like P. It's a sad and unfortunate fact, seeing that they are both dear friends of mine. The reasoning came up as to why recently, which reminded me of the situation between me and P in college. I had a crush on him but he did like me back. This we all know. But I thought I had reason to believe he did. Winfrey saw what I saw, and told everyone I was not nuts. They didn't believe me or her, and I was left looking and feeling desperate and stupid. 

The highlight of this time was when me and about three other friends organized a dinner we were going to invite our crushes too. I invited P and didn't hear back from him about it. The night of the dinner, the only guy to arrive was Kinfolk, invited by Haynes (they are now married). The rest of us had pretty long faces. I called P to see if he was coming and he yelled, "Stop inviting me to stuff. I don't like you like that!" before hanging up. I guess he just wasn't that in to me. I swallowed my tears in a big, hard gulp and tried to enjoy dinner. 

"Do you remember this P?" I asked him recently. 

"No, but it sounds like something I would say so it might have happened," he answered flatly. 

Honestly, I'd forgotten it too. I remember when it happened, I was pretty heart broken. I think the heart and mind work together to start the forgetting process when something sad and embarrassing enough happens. A lot of the things Winfrey recalled I hadn't thought of in years. 

Well, that was 20 years ago. I'm not 20 anymore. I'm looking forward to finding a connection with a man that my mind doesn't force me to forget about. 

The Block's Not Hot

I just wanted to stop by ladies and let you know that just when you think these guys won't have the nerve, they absolutely will! 

Block Spin is back again baby! It's funny because I was just thinking of him, feeling guilty for not reaching out to him after his latest ghosting. You know how my anxiety works. I was scared he was dead or being held captive in an international prison. But of course he is alive and well and still full of it! 

I was surfing social media last night when I got a random video call. It only rang once and I realized it was him. He called me back and I turned my camera off. He said he was just calling to "check in on me". Child...I reminded him that he was supposed to do that four months ago when he landed out of state for his business trip. I mentioned this twice because he was trying to steamroll past it. He said he was calling me now which was "better late than never". He has lost the energy and the give a sh#t to even lie anymore. I told him I had to go but I was glad he was okay. You see that? Even when I'm being dissed I don't want to come off as mean! 

P told me ages ago that guys will vanish then reappear when they think you've forgotten what they did. He wasn't lying! It seems that these guys are serious about being as unserious as possible, and I'm over it. OVER IT! 

I had such high hopes for Block Spin. We had such a good first conversation. We talked about movies. It was fun. However, being forgotten about then randomly remembered, most likely after a woman you liked more has given you the blues, is not fun. It's belittling. Oh well, onward and upward. 

For Whom The Bell Tolls

The theme for yesterday was death for 500, Alex. 

In the morning, I found out that my grandma's favorite and one of her few surviving cousins had died. Later in the day, I discovered that one of my beloved Xavier brothers had died. I also had a lengthy conversation with P about the afterlife. It was brutal. Brutal and heavy. 

As a Muslim, he feels like Christians don't think enough about the afterlife, while Muslims live with the afterlife at the forefront of their minds. I don't find this to be true, at least not at my church. There is plenty of talk about going to Heaven and the proper way to get there. This is especially troubling for me, seeing that I like to think about death and the journey after the way it was described to me as a child. We all have to die, but we die to go see Jesus, who lives in Heaven. Heaven is a beautiful place, and when you get there, you will get to see everyone who died before you. There was no talk of Hell, sin, or unbearable heat. There was only talk of a beautiful place to chill with your elders once your time is up. 

I prayed that both my grand-cousin and Xavier brother made it to Heaven. I am choosing to believe that they are now surrounded by the love of God and not oven-roasting to the soundtrack of eternal screams. The world, especially today, has a way of bombarding you with bad news and fears and disappointments and horrors. With that being said, is it so bad to want to believe that we all will one day be with God in an amazing paradise? How are we supposed to understand the stresses of the day while reconciling with the idea that we may also be going to Hell? How can we be present in the day if we are afraid of burning alive tomorrow?

I'm not sure, but according to P, we'd better figure it out because judgment starts at the moment of death. The very second our life ends, the trial starts. I cringe at the idea of having to explain to God why I have done some of the dumb stuff that I have done when there was a published book of His wishes available that I ignored. Yeah, I am going to stick with the Sunday school version of Heaven for myself and for the people I know who have passed on. I don't think I have the bandwidth to accept any of the other alternatives. 

Moody

P had the nerve to tell me that lately I've been moody. Moody and rude. Well, I'm sorry, but I am beyond over it! Everything has been getting on my nerves of late. I've been beefin' with my brother. I'm always hungry yet losing no weight. Every time I get over one obstacle, I look ahead, and there are ten obstacles left. I'm sleepy. I've had a bad cough. I'm broke. I'm so exhausted and frustrated by my job search that I won't even go into it. I'm concerned about premature aging. I can't seem to drink enough water. I cry at the drop of a hat. I'm scared for the world. My niece now has tantrums that consist of endless screaming. Not crying, screaming. It's all just too much, so yes, I've been a touch snappy. Am I not allowed that? I guess not 🫤

The Co-Sign Theory

As I try to get to know men romantically late in life, I'm learning things about them that I didn't know earlier on. Although men are universally associated with strength, I am learning that, emotionally at least, they can't handle too much. I almost want to go as far as to say that they can't handle anything at all. Pix called me negative as I told him about my day in a good mood with a happy voice. Apparently, if something is not overtly positive and sunny, it is negative, and he can't bear to hear it. This sucks, because I was hoping he would be someone I could tell anything to. I thirst to have more male friends like this, but it doesn't look like it is in the cards. 

I told P about this, and, of course, he took Pix's side. P will take any side but mine, even if the other side is covered in spiders and quicksand. I told him about how, when discussing negativity allegations with my tight-knit circle of college Instagram sisters, they told me that men can not handle anything and to reserve difficult/political/thought-provoking conversation for my female friends. 

"I wouldn't take too much stock in that," P said. "Women just co-sign on whatever other women say, even if it's wrong or they feel differently."

The example that he used was actually the one I was thinking of when he said it. Big Homie Sans had listened to me complain about being lonely for nearly 20 years. And she was always pretty supportive and encouraging. Then one day, in response to a text I had sent her  (I was texting her to tell her to call me so I could let her know that I was official with the guy I had told her about), she sent me a text that had A LOT of hurtful things in it. The main thing that she said that hurt me terribly was that she didn't understand why a guy, particularly one that was fit, would want to date me because I am so fat. Why would he want to date a girl who could die? She called me and tried to walk it back, but it was already in the air. I began to wonder if she had always felt this way, even when she was assuring me that I would find someone at some point. 

God, I hope this is an isolated example. I would hate to learn that the women in my life that I love are just being co-signers and not real, honest friends. As someone who has been the victim of a surprise intervention (by people who had no professional authority to hold one), I can tell you that honesty from friends hurts. Three of my dearest friends basically told me that they were tired of me. It was a nightmare. But I would prefer that to people just co-signing my thoughts to avoid heavy conversations. You can't have a real friendship that way, and as with the example of Big Homie Sans, the truth always comes out eventually, and it is usually always negative. 

Hurt Feelings

For about a week, I had a crush on a dude named Jackson that I went to college with. I thought he was cute even then, but I was a freshman and he was a senior. To say that we ran in different circles is an understatement. 

These days, Jackson is more of a computer love. I pretty much stalk him on Facebook. At almost 40, he spends his days making sexest and socially irresponsible posts, that is, when he isn't posting videos of Instagram models twerking in bathing suits. I can't say that Jackson is likable because he isn't really. Ladies you know what he is: he is that guy that you can't stand that just happens to be hot. But of late, I have felt kind of numb to the world, so having a crush felt nice. Something about liking someone makes your heart feel full. 

But all things have to come to an end. My crush was coming to a slow down just two days in when he made some ridiculous, double standarded (new word) posts about female sexuality. He is the type of guy that places unrealistic and unfair purity standards on women while he slides in DMs and most likely sleeps with anyone who will give him the time of day. I know, sexy. 

I was talking to P about his crazy posts today and P goes, "I remember this guy. I was eating lunch at his table once while we were in school and you walked into the cafe and he called you a fat bitch."

Just as he said this, it sounded like a car was crashing in my ears, and I got a weird feeling in my chest. It didn't alarm me as random chest pains often do because I remembered the feeling. I hadn't felt it in a while but it was very familiar: my feelings were hurt. 

I got off the phone and took a two hour nap so that I wouldn't cry and woke up to a text from P. He apologized for telling me. I said it was cool. I mean what can I do? Go on FB and curse Jackson out for something he said about me when I was 18? That would be silly. Yet, as old as the remark is, it still hurt my feelings. 

Slump

More than one of my friends has brought to my attention that they think I am in a life slump. 

"What do you do all day?" P asked me last night over the phone. "Do you just watch TV?"

"No. I also sleep and cry," I said honestly, nibbling on a mint-flavored floss stick. He asked me this after I casually tried to give him a five minute, three season round-up of Greenleaf. He seemed annoyed but didn't go any further which should have rung as a bad sign. He usually doesn't miss a beat when it comes to sticking a needle in my balloon. 

Then my aunt got mad at me this morning after I tried to connect something she was telling me to something I learned from one of my favorite shows, Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team. 

"Why are you always talking about that stupid show?!" she snapped. "You need to go out into the world, get a job, and make some friends!"

"I have friends!" I defended. True tea. 

"You need work friends. When you had work friends, you went out."

I rolled my eyes. I used to be so outgoing. Now I just want to lay down on the floor and catch up on How To Get Away With Murder. The disappointments of the past few years have been overwhelming and momentous. And yes, everyone has hard times. I am told that the cure to this is to keep pushing, but I have to say, I have pushed myself sleepy. All I want to do is take a tune out. I guess the trick is making sure that this is not what the rest of my life adds up to. However, right now, I am in no mood for tricks. I just want to binge my recorded episodes of American Horror Story. 

Babies

I used to work at a daycare in the 2-year-old room. They were cool kids, but I always made a point to visit the baby room before it was time to go home. Have you ever spent time in a room full of babies? It's like being in candy land. They are all sweet and soft and smell like like freshness. You literally want to take a bite out of all of them. I say that to say this: I don't want kids...I don't think.

"If you wanted kids, you would know by now," Dizzle assured me. You see, she wants kids, and has wanted them her whole life. On the same hand, she is an only child. I have three siblings and when I was a kid, taking them everywhere with me, I already felt like a mother. It didn't feel good. It felt overwhelming and suffocating. 

Sometimes when I am bored, I think about what my kids would look like and what I would name them. Then I think about how horrible it would be to have kids while broke and single and I have a panic attack. 

P judges me for not wanting kids. As you know, he is Muslim, and deep down in his heart, he feels that my sole purpose for being alive is to populate the earth with babies, regardless of whether or not I am capable of taking care of them. This is the same man that told me that he felt that women that didn't want kids had a mental problem because, duh, why would women not want to do something super awesome that men can't do? 😑 

Perhaps I am putting the cart before the horse, thinking of kids before I even have a man. But a friend of mine who is two years older than me went to the gynecologist and they suggested she freeze her eggs because she is old. Talk about a cold slap in the face! I thought there was a silent rule to NEVER call a woman old, especially before she was 40! When you realize how little time you really have to get pregnant, it makes you start thinking of pregnancy, even when you are me and you aren't sure if you want to be a mother. 

"If I had a daughter, I would name her Noel," I told Dizzle proudly. Noel. Thank God for blessing me with the sense to separate my fantasies from what is actually fitting for my life. 

The Muslim Thing

P wants me to be Muslim.
He tells me things about the Quran and the religion and his life and it sounds appealing at times.
When I was younger, I used to tell my grandma I wanted to be Muslim to annoy her. She was a serious Methodist. And in college, I was ready to become Muslim at the drop of a dime, but that was only because I was in love with P and wanted him to marry me.
But P is married now and I'm not in love with him anymore, so I kind of don't have the passion to revert as he calls it.
Man, am I a bad person or what, chucking Allah the deuces because I can't get the dude I wanted out of it?If I told P this, I already know what he would say: "There is a special place in the hell fire for that kind of thinking." Sadly, this is also what he told me when I wanted to get my eyebrows arched.

P Chattin'

Last night P called me.
We chatted for about an hour or so about his life and his job and his new apartment and his new girlfriend. It was comfortable. I didn't feel angry with him. He didn't say anything to make me mad at him. It was nice.
It was just another reminder of how much I had missed him during our little tiff. And no, he didn't offer any explanation to the whole situation, but I kind of feel like he didn't have to. His being the first to reach out to me, being as RIDICULOUSLY prideful as he is, let's me know that he is sorry. And like the weak, pathetic female I am, all is forgiven.
Guys, I know that we are just friends and that we will always just be just friends, but I don't know, I just feel like I click with him. And not like I click with Brownie and Kinfolk. It's like a different click.
I told Fran that I had once thought I was going to lose my virginity to him and she simply said, "I don't like him at all." That was that.
So as for now, all is happy at happiness house with P. We will see where this goes.

The Reversal

These past few months, I was getting used to not talking to P while still missing him. Now that I have spoken to him, that deep feeling of missing him has returned. I am thinking about him more and wanting to call him more. Dorothy was right! Two phone calls, that is it. I am alarmed at how little it took to reverse my healing.

Creepin'

Today P called me. We didn't talk long. He just alerted me that he called me over the weekend and my phone was off.
I am a bit confused. Our last convo felt so...final. And it is so weird, because I can feel him smoothly creeping back into my life after his self-inflicted, hurtful hiatus and I am not lifting a finger to stop it. I am so embarrassed that I dare not tell any of my friends about it. All I hear is Dorothy in my ear telling me that he doesn't really want to be my friend, he just wants to keep me around so that he has someone in his corner to readily abuse. She may very well be right.
But what can I say ya'll? I missed him when we didn't talk. I like talking to him. But on the same hand, I know that if I give him full access to my emotions again, he is just going to say something shitty again, hurt me again, take my friendship for granted and disrespect me...again.
And then there is that whole love factor. If I had an ounce of dignity, I would nip this because I am very aware that I love him, and no matter how I try to separate that from our friendship, it doesn't work. And I am very aware that he does not feel the same way and that he now has a girlfriend. So the next time he hurts me (funny, I know this is inevitable), it just won't be a hurt from a buddy, but a hurt from a boy I have such strong feelings for.
Guys, I feel so dumb.

The Call

This weekend I talked to P.
I randomly texted him in response to his picture text, and that led to us talking on the phone.
It's funny, because I thought that all this time talking to him would make me all extra happy. I would not say that I was not happy, but I am more so happy to hear that he is OK than anything. I don't get the feeling that we will be talking again soon or anything, just good to know he is cool.
Call me childish, but I am also happy that he was the one to crack and call me, not the other way around. I also take pleasure in his realizing that I blocked him from leaving comments on my Facebook page.
The convo did get a little odd though when he put his new girlfriend on the phone and had me say hi. She seems nice, and I was pleasant. But I just feel like the whole thing was inappropriate. I don't feel like I care to know his new beau, and I found it odd that after not talking for damn near two months, introducing me to his new lady was on his to-do list. I was unphased. This is just part of the assiness that is P, but Dorothy was not excited.
"He contacted you because he had not heard from you and wanted to make sure that you were still in his corner, that he could still show you minimal respect! Don't talk to him, block his number, and erase him from your Facebook! You don't have time for this shit!"
I would hope that this is not the case, but it probably is. Just understand, my expectations are low. After the whole fiasco, his feaux-apology, and his friend-dumping me through text, I don't see how we can be buddy-buddy again. I don't think that either of us wants to. Our whole friendship, at least on my end, was a complete emotional roller coaster. And even though I have been missing him somethin' horrible and wanted to talk to him so bad, I am settled. I have to say that I am cool now with being off this ride. I feel...resolved.

Phone Pic

The night before last night I got a picture message from P- a pic of himself smiling and a caption about his job. I stared at it, then went to sleep. When I woke up, I saw it and almost screamed. What the Hell is this?! Did he send me this on mistake? How did I get it if I blocked his number? Is this his way of communicating with me again, or was he just bored or what? Is he just messin' with me?
I texted Haynes for some direction. She said I could text him and just be general. I have wanted to hear from him for almost two months now, and now that I have, I am VERY apprehensive. I didn't respond. What if I texted him and he didn't text me back. I have this thing about not reversing my healing. I will keep you posted.

The Inception Effect

I know that this is going to seem weird, but I feel like my dreams have been more vivid ever since I saw Inception. Unfortunately, they have been about he who shall not be named.
As I informed you recently, Facebook informed me that he is now in a relationship. So last night I dreamed, clear as day, that he sent me a text telling me that he was, in fact, in a relationship with some girl and was sad that he couldn't talk to me about it- that he missed me as a friend and blah, blah, blah.
I woke up feeling good for a split second before I realized that it was all a dream. I looked through my texts. No message. Not that he could send me one anyway. I put his number on my reject list, yet I can't think of anyone else that I am more eager to hear from.
Can I just say that I am so embarrassed that my thinking and my emotions and my life and my everything is being so affected by not only a boy I was never in a relationship with, but by a boy that so clearly and evidently doesn't give a shit!
I remember being half as broken up as I am now my freshman year of high school when my gay boyfriend came out of the closet and dropped me. Although traumatic, I can laugh at it now. I wish I could go back to 1999 and ask that Holly, the Holly that had cornrows and listened to Korn, how I got over it. Maybe I am just too far gone, but I can't envision me laughing about P. But on the bright side, at least he is still my friend in my dreams.

Heart Skip

I was checking my email and saw that P was available on my Yahoo chat and it made my heart skip a beat. I miss him. I was thinking about him just yesterday, and not about what a MAJOR asshole he is, but about how he is doing. What he is doing. So afraid that I may chat him and not ready to deal with a new wave of sadness when he didn't' chat me back or chatted me something rude, I decided to blog about it. Smiles, what would I do without this outlet? The old question: how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? The new question: how long does it take you to get over someone that was never into you? Hopefully, there is some sweet treat on a stick at the end of my rainbow when I come to the answer.

Rejecting the Rejection

Maybe three months ago I shared with Fran and Waddles a story that I heard from Dr. Schuller on The Glass Cathedral. Hey! Don't judge me. He talks some real stuff and I like his voice. Anywho, he told a story about this boy who applied to his dream college and got denied admission. So he sent the college a letter, told them that he rejected their rejection, and that he was coming for Freshman Orientation. We thought that was funny, primarily because that would never fly.
So as you all know, this P situation had me down all last month. P- the boy who told me he didn't want to "talk to me for a while." I replayed that text over and over in my mind- not just the text but the whole situation- until it didn't make sense; until it felt like a dream. Finally, I went to my friend Dorothy for advice, who told me to put his number on my reject list on my phone.
"When he calls you again, if he calls you again, you don't need to be available for him."
True dat. Maybe putting the number on the reject list would be better, seeing that I had tried to erase it, and that just made me cry.
So the week before last, I took a deep breath and put his number on the rejection list. I instantly felt relieved. I wasn't worried about his calling, because if he did, I wouldn't get the call anyway, and I doubt that he has, and that is OK.
But don't cheer for my minor victory too much...he is still my Facebook friend and I still have his email address and I still know like most of his friends, lol. And, if he called me today, if he wasn't automatically rejected, I would answer on the first ring.
I miss him ya'll. And besides all the romantic feelings I had for him that I talked myself into believing were no more, I just enjoyed him being my buddy, you know? And I was a good friend, not trying to get with him or anything and listening to his issues, because that's what buddies do. But he rejected me over some ish that was on him! Well sorry, I have cried too much then I care to admit. I had to take steps to reject his rejection.