Emotive Food Poisoning – A stream of conscious

These are weird weird feeling. Somewhere between wanting to cry and throw up. But the feeling is so low in the pit of your stomach that is hasn’t come to the surface for either reaction to come to fruition. To manifest. This is what regret feels like. Don’t normally feel this. Even when I make mistake I always get some lesson out of it. Then I know it all happened for a reason. This is weird. I lowered my standards for someone who says they don’t have a girlfriend, doesn’t want a girlfriend and then next day I will see him with “twenty others.” His words not mine. Weird. I have been trying to figure out how to handle this weirdness. I don’t want to be that jealous chick. Looking broads up and down. That’s not me and it’s never cute. I don’t want to be the mad chick. Also not me, it’s out place, and still not cute. On one hand I want to tell him how I feel because, I just want him to know. On the other I’m not sure he cares to know. Knowing me, I’m probably going to tell him anyway. Or at least send him this post. We’ll see what happens. So there is this guy. Let’s call him, Monk. I’ve noticed him about five years ago, 2004. (Wow have I been in Columbus that long).He seemed cool. The first girl I met when I came to grad school liked him. I never approached him. Not really my style. Figured if I was supposed to meet him I would. No big deal. He always seemed to always have a party going on. He was somewhat ubiquitous. Was bound to run into him. I met guys, dated, had a son, etc etc etc. Fast-forward to fall 2008. I needed his expertise to coordinate something. I got Monk’s number and I called him. He helped us out. We had sporadic conversations. Then we had one really long conversation. Lasted about 6 hours. About 80% of it had to do with sex or something about sex. That should have been my clue. But I called myself having a crush on him so I guess I ignored it. Wrote it off as fun flirtatious banter. He said he found me attractive. Said I was unicorn. Something about my beauty, stature, shape, etc being unique. Different. In a good way I suppose. Still don’t know how to feel about that. On one hand it’s a compliment; on the other it was the external part of me that made him want to pursue a sexual interaction with me. Purely sexual as oppose to initially finding someone attractive, approaching, then becoming interested in who they are. He said he wasn’t like other dudes and I needed to stop putting him in a box. But the stereotypical dude wants sex without commitment. Something most women do not want. That’s the box I wanted to put him in. That’s the box he needed to be in, but at his request I hesitated. Thinking I might be wrong. Why did I do that.

He came over my house a few times. Talked about random stuff mostly. He talked about his some personal concerns. I wasn’t sure if that meant anything. The sharing. It could have meant that I felt like a safe place for him. It could be something he tells most people. It could have been some weird “game” (I’ve seen it before). I told him I don’t have casual sex. Even if I am intimate with someone that I’m not in a relationship with, there are mutual feelings and respect for one another and we care about each other. That is not what was going on here. I was genuinely interested in who he was as a person and I think he was mildly interested in what I do and want to do with my life. Somehow, I didn’t want to believe that. Or I just ignored that. He was very clear that he didn’t want a relationship. Said he was still dealing with a failed relationship. I don’t believe that. Meaning I don’t think that would prevent him from entering into a relationship if he met the person he wanted to be with. Either way it didn’t matter to me. It was a cute crush. Like high school or something. One day he was going to come over. It was late. We talked for a while. Kissed. And I led him to the bedroom. (Why did I do that.)We ended up having sex. Sigh. Not sure why. Did I want him to like me more? That’s dysfunctional. I have to think about that some more. If that’s the case that is pathetic. Why would I do that? More thought…I know that I often make poor judgments when I am under stress and this year has been particularly stressful. Finishing the MA, applying for PhD programs, taking the GRE, serving on various e-boards, coordinating programs, grant writing, preparing to travel across the world alone, getting the money to do so, completely the fundraising project for the orphanage, working on my oil painting show, missing Langston, paying $300 in daycare, child support no longer coming, getting second job, finding funding for next year, finding a job for the summer, finding a headstart program for Langston, finding a new place, preparing for and going to conferences, writing a thesis… it think I’ll stop there.

He flat out told me he wanted to have sex with me and somehow that didn’t turn me completely off like it has with other people. I was in escapist mode. Wanting something/someone to help me forget about the things that I need to think about. We had sex. He said he had to leave. I felt like meat. It was bad. No passion. Just sex. It took my mind off the things I didn’t feel like thinking about it but it gave me something else to think about. I chose not to think about it. We continued to talk on and off. I asked him one day if he was sleeping with other people. He asked why but never answered. I took that as a yes. But chose not to think about it. Got to push forward. Too many things to think about already. Then one day a friend and I went to an after work event. He was outside talking to a female. I remember because she had one some cute shoes which I complimented her on. Didn’t think too much of it. He talks to a lot of people. My friend and I went up stairs, he sat and talked with us for awhile. It ended. He invited us to a spot to eat. We went by, left and went home. Another day some friends and I went to a club. I saw the girl again. She seemed to be by herself. He danced with her. Again not too big of a deal. Then there was a concert, she was there again. Again she didn’t look as if she came with friends. She stood off to the side with him. It was then that the weirdness started. Slightly. I made an excuse to go over to where they were. I kinda owed him $5 for something he gave me. But not really. Not sure why I wanted to say something to him. It was like I wanted to emotionally barf on him. But not at the same time. I made my way over there. He wondered why I was giving him the money. He said he didn’t ask for it and I was making the situation a bigger deal than it was. I said half-joking “maybe I’m a little salty because you are over here with your girlfriend.” And he said, “I don’t have a girlfriend and the next time you see me I’ll be with twenty others.” He started to say something else and then I interrupted and said bye. Twenty others. Wow. There was heaviness in the pit of my stomach. Something between wanting to cry, scream, and vomit but its was too low in my gut for any reaction to manifest. Like having an emotional stomachache…emotive food poisoning.

A couple of friends and I went to an after-work spot to celebrate them successfully passing their defenses. We were having fun. I saw him. Said hi, hugged. Then I saw her again. The weirdness came again. Went to a party. A friend and I were standing in line. I saw him. I looked at him but didn’t think he saw me. My friends said to call him and ask to skip the line. I said I didn’t want to ask him for anything. We got to the door. Said hi, hugged. He said I should have called him so that we wouldn’t have had to wait. I told him something. I don’t know what though. Anyway, we went in my people and I were chillin’. We go to get some air in the hallway and who do I see. Her again. Standing with him. She seemed to be standing there the whole night. Weirdness again. For somebody who doesn’t have a girlfriend, he definitely has ONE girl directly attached to his hip. Weirdness. As we left he said

“Next time be sure to tell me you’re coming so you won’t have to wait. Stopping acting funny.”

I told him “its hard to not act funny.” As a glance at the girl who had her back to me.

“Why, are you feeling me?”

“I was.”

“Don’t act like that we family.”

We family? What does that mean? Family? I threw up a little bit… in my mouth. Feel a little emotional residue on my palate. What was I thinking? Why lower my standards?

My facebook status for a few days was Melissa “is feeling a little Nola Darling/Lovely-ish.” Both Spike Lee movie references. Nola Darling is the star of “She’s Gotta Have It.” A film many feminist film critics say was a misguided attempt at displaying black women’s sexual liberation. Nola has three men in her life. Each very different. And neither one she wants to commit to. I also have men in my life who I won’t commit to for a variety of reasons. In a nut shell it comes down to religion and culture. Great men. We have great fun together. Great conversations. I would like them to be in my life in some capacity for as along as they are supposed to. I know they will do anything for me and they know I have their back. But there are some road blocks. Lovely is the “stage name” of Judy in Spike Lee’s “Girl 6.” Judy is a wanna be actress who finds herself employed as a phone sex operator. She gets this one caller. I forget his name. I think its Joe or something. Anyway, he is her regular. The other women tell her not to get evolved with the callers. She is just there to fulfill their fantasy. Which they are each explicitly told is a white woman. Of course Judy and many of the other women are black or of color. She sets up a date with Joe for Coney Island. She waits. And waits. And waits in the foggy empty park on a bench., until a white gentlemen in a business suit walks by. She calls out to him. Again and again. He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge her. We, the audience, don’t know for sure of its Joe because throughout the film his face hasn’t been completely clear. But we assume it is him because anyone else would have at least turned around even if she called the wrong name. She wasn’t his fantasy or she became too real. Lovely gets wrapped up in the fantasy world and never escapes. She leaves for LA or New York to pursue acting but we don’t get a sense that she has learned her lesson. My Lovely-ishness is that I wanted Monk to be someone that he wasn’t. He is the stereotypical dude, at least when it came to me. I wanted him (whether I thought this consciously or subconsciously) to assist me in my escapism. I wanted intimacy that made me feel safe. Intimacy that said, “everything is going to be fine Melissa. You are doing a great job. Just relax.” But I didn’t relax. I got more tense. More things to think about.

I had a long talk with my ex-boyfriend about intimacy. I told him that he was the first person that made me feel like intimacy was not a bad thing. Not an uncomfortable thing. It can be safe. Nice. Comfortable. Safe. Sex was not initially presented to me in that way. So sex as something that is not negative/completely comfortable was relatively new to me. I feel like I expected that new found feeling to translate over to Monk and our intimacy would help me cope with reality. In reality, Nola was compensating for a liberation denied to her and those before her. In reality, Lovely was an out-of-work actress who dressed as Coffey Brown and Dorothy Dandridge and got too close to those who were only there to be the receivers of her fantastical persona. So close that after Joe, her closeness with another caller almost cost her, her life. Monk saw me as some sort of fantasy. A unicorn. Some fantastical creature. He wasn’t really interested in me. Just as Joe wasn’t really interested in Judy. He wanted Lovely. The persona. No commitment. Monk wanted a little bit of unicorn. No strings attached.

So what is the lesson learned? If I know that, then I think the regret will go away. 1) The feeling that I had with my ex-boyfriend was special and can only happen with him or other people how invest their energy in me and I in them. Just because I no longer see sex as necessarily needing to be a bad thing, doesn’t mean is translates into being a good thing with everyone. Its bad with the wrong person. 2) Escapism is dangerous and I need to be more cautious and aware of my thoughts and feelings when I in it. 3) Its nice to be admired and found attractive, but if my guts says this person is bad news (for me emotionally) I need to seriously follow that and disregard whatever it is they are saying. Ultimately they aren’t concerned about how I feel at the end of the day. They are most concerned about fulfilling their fantasy. 4) I know that I have much more than my body to offer. I’m worth more than being someone’s unicorn. I’m a good woman. Any man I’ve dated will tell you that. They continue to tell me that. And I feel that. I know that. Granted, being someone’s unicorn does not take away from who I am and how I define myself. Again, its nice to be admired. Its flattering. But it must stay there. Stay as something simply flattering, if their intentions are not in my best interest. All of this sounds nice. I just need to make sure I remain conscious and aware of my thoughts, feelings, and stress level. And then I will be continue to be fine. God willing. Writing has loosened the weirdness. It also weakened the already decrepit attraction I had for Monk. He is still interesting. If I have a question about music I’ll probably send him an email. If I plan to attend his party I might send him a text. But that will probably take a while. Not sure. The weirdness hasn’t gone away completely yet. But it will.