Relationship Advice

Through a referral from my own “top 16 signs he really loves you” I came across a site of relationship advice. A few weeks ago I was in Barnes and Noble before heading to a concert. It was a Friday night and I was in the Human Sexuality department, researching my current interest in Taoism and sex. Next to me was the “Relationships” section, which is the premiere hook-up spot for black dudes. Not one, not two… but three of these guys came up to me with a sob story, one surely had a Visine tear in his eye, as they asked for recommendations to overcome their heartache and any books I could suggest. Each time I’d flash the title of the book I was reading, from “Urban Tantra” to the “Multiorgasmic Man” and declare, “I don’t read that relationship crap. I’m interested in sex.” One by one they shied away. The last guy declared behind a smirk, “I tried that and it hurts!”

While the pick-up attempts were admirable but unsuccessful, my consumption of relationship material is apparently a lie. Somehow my blog piece was tied to a search that offered relationship advice and I read a few articles to keep up with the competition. I think they were more heartfelt and kind, but the following paragraph sent me into guffaws. Maybe because the example seemed quite hyperbolic and unrealistic yet I somehow fit into it:

The first relationship compatibility element is: How much uncertainty
can you each live with?  That may sound like a strange question, but it
is fundamental to issues such as handling of money and budgets, and how
you bring up the children if you have any. If one of you favours a
steady job with a reliable pension scheme, and it’s got to be fish on
Fridays, you aren’t going to get on too well with a freelancing, bungee
jumping aspiring pop star, are you?

 Just when I was about to schedule a bungee jumping escapade.

To all you homeboys that want some advice (and to not pick up on the seemingly vulnerable white chick in the relationships aisle), I recommend the following links-—How-to-Be-Sure-Youve-Got-It&id=1327764

An Early Start

Overheard on Broadway and 87th St at 8:40 AM (note, this is an hour and a half before my general wake up time). A middle-aged dad and his five-year-old daughter with a mop of blonde curls are walking six feet behind me.

Little Girl: Daddy I need to know.

Dad: You gotta speak up angel. Look at me because I can’t hear what you’re saying with all the traffic.

Little Girl: Who do you love better? Mommy or me?

Dad: Well I love both of you the same but in different ways.

Little Girl: Yeah but who do you love the best?

Dad: I love you both the best.

Little Girl: But you can’t! Who do you love the bestest?

Dad: Right now, I love you the best. But don’t tell mommy.

It starts early… I’d imagine he’s a decent dad and husband, telling the women in his life what they want to hear.

A Bitchfest

In efforts to be calm, to shut up my ego, and live the soulful life, I’ve eschewed any venting on my blog. I’ve gone to a higher place, a path of less resistance, a home for solace. The raging side of me is not in the mood for peace and declares this is my blog and I’ll bitch as I choose. I don’t feel at ease though, and it an unrest partially driven by self-loathing and another part by people getting under my skin. This evening I met up with a good friend of mine, who’s known me since I was a teen and still living with the folks. She’s seen the full evolution in my dating years while she’s spent the majority of the past seven in a relationship with her girlfriend. They’re like an old married couple. What worries me is the efforts may have very convinced me to date women from here on out.

I fall in love with lunatics. Emotionally unavailable, childlike, cowardly, self-involved jack asses. Some of them will stick around for years, still tempted by the lure of crazy sex. Some will try and beg me to “walk on the wild side” when they were completely unable to function sexually with me when we were together. But there is one common equation in all of this drama. And that is me. For some reason, I am the one attracted to these situations, enjoying the novelty of “life is an adventure” but that adventure does not lead to something stable and comforting. It leads to neurosis.

I’m career-oriented, independent, and focused. These are qualities that I will never leave, but they are blanketed excuses I’m given by friends and family when I ask “Why the fuck can’t I just have a healthy, balanced relationship?” I’ll hear, “Honey, it’s not the time… you’re so focused on your career. You’re such a free spirit.”

 Let me tell you something about career-driven people. We use our motives as excuses to keep that distance from close relationships. It’s this high-prized fight that somehow affords the “freedom” and “luxury” to say that love doesn’t matter. I played that card for a very long time and see myself often drawn to men with the same lame excuse. The real reason is fear. Fear of getting hurt, fear of losing focus, and fear of losing ourselves.

I’m past the fear, but what I’m not past is attracting people who thrive on these emotions and circuitous ways. I’m just a suitcase short of packing my bags, moving to an isolated island to be one with nature and say the hell with everything else. And by everything else, I mean men. I mean men who twist their little self-indulgent fingers around people’s hearts, clueless of what this may spawn, and go on living their lonely lives. But at the end of the day, I’m most angry that I’m still a magnet for loneliness.