I awaited the phone's ring. It always rings.
I am an addict. That is how I choose to characterize myself. Even if I did not completely believe it.
I glance upward towards the sky, inhaling the city air. The night agrees with me. I exhale, surrendering the guilt in an effort not to feel. I always have a problem admitting when I am wrong.
I surrender to the silence and the voices grow louder. I pretend not to listen.
I casually walk the sidewalk barely missing the E train. I attach my headphones to my ear and tilt my head back. The moon says it's after midnight.
The wind carries her last words. I shiver at the sound.
I loved you.
I know better. I keep reminding myself. Pretending that I don't notice the difference in her change in tense. I ponder as the night remains.
The E train stutters to a halt. I board keeping my eyes low. The scrutinizing silence is always too familiar.
I sit in the back. I look to the left at a couple's playful banter. To the right to another locked in an affectionate embrace. I cut my eyes, pull my jacket tighter.
The city passes in a blur. Unmoving. Still. The night remains; hesitating, stubborn. It's teaching a lesson I don't want to learn. It refuses to leave quietly, instead it prefers to burn. As if it knew what tomorrow would bring. Like a child sent to his room to await his punishment, it too, did not want to surrender.
I pictured her face. The look she gave. The questions her eyes asked, but did not give voice. Questions that she deserved an answer to. Questions that she knew the answer to.
Who are you?
She wanted to know. I sometimes wonder how I can tell you if I do not know myself. Or maybe I do. Maybe the difficult part is the acknowledgment. But not to others. I wonder if they can see my colors and it is I who remain blind. Blind to my own lies.
Or is it shame? You know, there's always a shame to resigning. Is what I am what I really am?
i sigh. It's the scarlet to my letter.
Or maybe an inhibition of freedom.
I have needs. She has to understand. Isn't it just apart -- of what it means to be a man?
Yet there is something within me that makes me okay with the hurt I dispense. I'm still thinking of her and her love. For me? Exactly why had it made its descent. Tonight. Again.
In her mind.
My room is dark. It is always dark. I stare at the cat in the window across the street. It is a game we always play. He disappears at first light. I want him to stay and play. I open the window. I am greeted by a quiet street. The solace is too loud.
I take off my clothes. I lay in my bed. The colors in the room are painted a comforting shade of mohogany black. I close my eyes. The silence still hurts.
I won't be tied down.
She'd heard it before. Not exactly what she wanted to hear as I share her pillow once more. Her silence is always the same. I pretend I don't notice as she grabs what can never be hers. Or mine. She kills herself each time. I turn a blind eye.
How could someone let themselves fall for me? I often ask myself. I am not projecting. I am not one of a kind. I am just attentive. I am caring. I listen. I put in the time.
But. I do have a problem admitting when I may be wrong.
It is not me. It is her.
I lay awake.
I never said I loved you.
I mull my last words to her. Sleep decides not to visit me tonight. So, I await the phone's ring.
It always rings.
***I wrote this while in NYC in October 2008
Another lonely night.
Another crowded city.
It's raining tonight.
My vision is even more blurry.
Park Ave.
A station I've never been.
Not ready to go home, I dive right in.
I await the subway car
Aiming to take me to God knows where.
I've been there before
But tonight, I don't seem to care
You see me first.
I'm taken aback.
Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing
My maturity says I should be beyond all that.
your hands in your pocket
but your gaze is clear
while your 'fit is aesthetically pleasing
it's your smile that seals the deal
You sense my need.
My intuition, he's telling me no
But your swagger is pullin me in
I'm smiling, I'm open...
Where do you wanna go....?
I had the strangest dream last night. Okay. Maybe it wasn't so strange after all. It was about someone who I have a love/hate relationship with. I think we'll call this person Chameleon. I think I spend the majority of my time being angry or frustrated with him, which I'm trying to stop. But it's difficult to just stop caring about someone who've you've invested so much in. Even when your mind is telling you that you should.
You know when I realistically try to imagine Chameleon and I together...like that, I do find myself becoming really disgusted. Chameleon is very promiscuous. With women. My intuition makes me think that this involves some men as well. But I digress. It is such a turnoff to me to know that your partner or potential partner has given themselves away to so many people. Especially when you know this person doesn't seem to always use protection. I know, gross, right?
Anyway, hopefully, my heart understands that it needs to catch up with the rest of me in purging this person from my psyche. I get the feeling it's getting the message...
I don't exactly remember how I met TJ. All I know is our relationship, more correctly, our arrangement lasted two years. I don't remember our first encounter, but i do remember immediately being attracted to him. What started out as a simple one night stand, gave way to something that I wasn't prepared for. I was a 19 y/o college sophomore. He a 27 y/o graduate of FAMU. I usually was only into dark skinned guys, like my ex Kris, but TJ was red and obviously the exception.
One thing I can say for TJ is that he is consistent. He always wanted the same things performed on him. I think my need for affection and consistency is what allowed me to get comfortable with our arrangement. He always called after 11pm; from an unknown number. After a few months of us hooking up, I stopped answering his calls until he unblocked his number and allowed me to have his digits as well. There ended up being plenty of times I would call him up and he'd make time for me. And when he did call, I always knew what was up. And I very rarely said no. During my Senior year of high school and my freshman year of college, I was the king of one-night-stands. So, having a consistent somebody was a welcome change.
The routine was always the same. I'd pull into his apartment complex and park my car in the same spot, every time. I'd knock on his door and wait. I knew from our conversations that his roommate worked nights. Sometimes, he got a little ahead of himself and invited me over before his roommate left. It was funny to watch him usher me in his room and make me keep silent until his roommate left. Each time it was the same routine. He'd let me in the front door and no sooner than we turned the corner to his room, his boxers were already off and he'd assumed the position(s). I must say his way of getting right to it, was a huge fucking turn-on. And it was always good.
We only had actual sex twice. Well, one and a half. The first time, I couldn't take it, so we stopped. I would always ask him why he never wanted to go further beyond our oral excursions, and he would say because he was scared of making a mistake. After a year or so of us hooking up, I started thinking that maybe the reason he never wanted to go all the way is because he actually had something. I think my excitement over being with him won out over my better judgement, even though we were always safe.
One thing I loved about TJ is that he loved whatever I did with him. It was addictive. He was a tall guy with a thick muscular build and I loved his body. And I always aimed to please.
But, soon pleasing him grew old. And I started wanting something more. So, threw myself into my Junior year of college and my filmmaking and began to stop answering his late night calls...