The Gay Divorcee pt 1: The Sex Quest

Rudith is divorcing her wife Maria and currently dating and having sex with men that she has met on Bumble. Seeing that she's been married to a woman for years, I thought she was a lesbian. Turns out she's queer. I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure what queer means. As I've said over the years, queer sounds like something bad that happens to cheese.

I had no idea that she and her wife were having issues. I couldn't tell from their annual Christmas cards. However, according to Rudith, Maria's inconsistency brings nothing but chaos, confusion, and despair to everything she touches. Couples therapy didn't work, so Rudith has kicked Maria out of the bedroom and banished her to the basement. Rudith has also created an ancestral altar to combat Maria's negative vibes. 

"I suggested an open marriage, but she said no because she never wants to do anything that makes sense!" Rudith exclaimed over the phone. She was headed back home after a quick getaway she treated herself to since her wife is out of town. 

So Rudith did what we all do when we don't know what to do: she turned to app dating. She matched with a guy the day she created her profile, went on a date, went to the guy's house and hooked up with him which officially started her campaign to have the best sex of her life. 

"I'm just playing with these women's sons for a minute," she explained. And it's working. She is very honest with the men about her situation, and as we all know, men love nothing more than lesbians and a challenge. She is clear with them about wanting strong masculine energy which has brought men who have award-winning penis and no desire to go dutch into her life. She's even being invited to exclusive members-only clubs and taken on exciting dates. It all sounds great, but I was confused on how she could be intimate with anyone else when she is still married? 

"A divorce could take two or three years and I already haven't had sex with my wife for two! Do you want me to go without sex for like five years?!"

I sometimes forget how I am the only one dedicated to a dry, sexless existence. I also forget how most people don't identify with a black and white definition of relationships, not even in a marriage. I don't believe anything is over until it's over, so you should behave accordingly or risk BAD karma. However, Rudith swears that dating and hetero- sexing is just what the doctor ordered. Literally! Her therapist is on board with her technical cheating. Even her kids have noticed the pep in her step! 

If we are going to be adults, I guess we also have to be honest about what cheating is. Are you really physically cheating if you have emotionally separated from a person? My grandma would have said yes. Rudith's shrink and Rudith say otherwise.

Also, if we are going to continue being honest adults, we also have to admit that happiness can often be the theoretical butterfly that we can not catch. Is it really wrong to run towards it even if we are technically involved in something else? Hearing about Rudith's cool makeout sessions with military men in her car makes me want to say no but I don't know. Keep in mind that I have been told often that I'm a prude. I don't know if I'd go that far, but I will say that I'm relationship conservative which I'm realizing is quickly going out of style. Things often are not cut and dry. I guess the question is as simple as it was for Sheryl Crow in her old hit song: If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. 

Optimism

I turned 37 at the end of 2021 and I have one thing to say: I think that I am fresh out of optimism. I gotta be honest, my cup didn't runneth over with it to begin with. Never really been a cup half full type of gal. But I find that as a depressed, overweight, single, Black woman I had to at least pretend to be optimistic for the greater good. You see, me and all my single homegirls are all participating involuntarily in a game of Jenga, and if one of us so much as looks like we are not keeping hope alive, we're all going to fall. Better yet, we are in the Squid Games. If one of us so much as exerts an inkling of negative energy by saying something as mild as, "Maybe I will just be that single, rich aunty," that big plastic girl thing will turn around and shoot us all in the face. And I don't want to get shot. So I continue to fight the good fight, encouraging my homies when needed, and to do so, I have to ignore some hard truths. We are sliding on the banana peel towards 40. Maybe we will be single forever. Maybe those who want kids won't have them. Perhaps we will never be rich or even as financially secure as we want to be. I hate to say it but perhaps we are doing ourselves a disservice by remaining as optimistic for these goals as we are. Perhaps it is time to sit down all adult-like and begin to polish up our plan Bs. And we have to have one right? Because talking to some of my friends I find that they are so committed to some of these life goals that I am scared that if they don't come to fruition they will just stand up and explode into a million little pieces. And maybe (Big plastic girl things shoots me at my computer, blood splattering on the screen). 

The Lonelies

I'm lonely.
This is something that I already knew, but now my loneliness is starting to manifest in my behaviors. For example, I have recently picked up the weird pastime of sitting in my room in the dark and watching Facebook videos of people getting zits and blackheads popped on their faces. If that doesn't scream lonely...and weird, I don't what does!
Then, of course, there was my unfortunate slip into a one-way Instagram obsession with a male dancer two months ago. The less said about that the better.
I have been told that the best way to beat loneliness is to get out and be active. I would, but it's cold outside. I have also been told that exercise is a good remedy for beating the blues, and I would totally exercise, but I am fat and lazy.
The only thing that I really have the energy to do is write in my journal and crawl up on my floor with the lights off. I find it peaceful, the combination of darkness and listening to myself breath.
In these moments of silence, I can not help but reflect on how I have deluded myself into believing that the loneliness would just zap away if I had a dude to cuddle with during these bone chilling Atlanta nights. Knowing deep down inside that this would only make matters worse, I have gone on Amazon to price an oversized bear that I can hug on while I sleep.
Have any tips on how to beat winter lonelies? Let me know. I'm open to anything that doesn't involve a lot of work. But for now, I must go. Time for my favorite lonely pastime ever: watching The Office on Netflix until I doze off.