Ne me quitte pas

I rose early today. It’s the first morning of solitude that I’ve had in seven week after turning my apartment into a hostel it seems. My friend and former ex was my lodge mate for almost two months. I can’t really say that it was a bad experience. We have often that we would bite the bullet and get married if we both were still single at 30. Having share this time in my too small overpriced New York apartment, I don’t think it would be all that bad. We would stay up late nights and talk about everything from Jenifer Hudson (neither of us are fans) to politics to the cute boy behind the deli case at Whole Foods often times over strawberries dipped in sour cream and brown sugar or a bubbling bowl of cheese queso and chips. It was cool. As I looked out into the streets, the overcast sky with the infinite possibility of rain, Nina softly purring Ne me quitte pas and bustle of people scurrying to the train and into taxis the thought of companionship rest heavy on my soul.

Things had been strange. My friend departed and my homie-lover-friend returned from his trip to visit his boyfriend. While he was away, our conversations had been brief but really intense. He told me how much he missed me. I missed him too. There would be moments in the middle of the night where I would want to call. There would be moments where I would run into someone that smelled like him, shared his funny blue/grey eyes or someone that had the same stride of swagger and confidence that accompanies each of his steps. Damn. Pride. Respect. Fear. All held me hostage unable to dial those ten digits.

I went of a little date of sorts on Saturday – cocktails. I followed in up with an invitation to a dinner party on Sunday. I wanted let him know that he fucked me up. That I can’t even begin to imagine my life with someone that doesn’t embodied the qualities that he possesses despite a cute face, fat ass, personality and 401k.

When he got in last night I headed over. Sweats, a t-shirt, a fitted – I was posturing. I wanted him to think that I didn’t care. I should never play poker, because as soon as I saw him the façade melted away. We talked. I didn’t want to ask too many questions. Did you break up with him? I wanted to know, but I was afraid of the answer. He asked me about our relationship and how I defined us to other people. I took the safe route and said friends with possibilities, when in my heart you are my lover, my confidant, advisor, teacher, friend and homeboy. I wanted to lay with him all night. He was nervous. I guess that meant no break-up. I wondered home around 1 – a homeless lover in search of a fix. I wasn’t sure what to feel. I texted the guy from Saturday. He responded with “what you trying to do this late.” My reply was “trying to see you.” It wasn’t truth but I need to purge my pain. What better way than slick skin pressed against each other, warm breath against necks and being inside a place that warm and safe if only for one night. Somewhere between texting and caressing my pillow, I fell asleep. The universe knows what’s right. I checked my phone and his last text asked if I was coming by or not. I responded with an apology this morning – I didn’t want to complicate his life with my shit.

The homie-lover-friend phone this morning to see if I was ok. I told him I needed companionship. He thought he was providing it for me. He is. But at the end of the day I go home alone. I don’t want that. Nor do I want to be a wet memory in between the sheets. I’m going to leave the office early today. We’re going to catch a movie. Maybe I’ll make dinner. Is this situation better than being with someone like the guy on Saturday? Who know anymore?

It’s starting to rain. I want to go out into it and let it wash me like a baptismal spray - washing away the insecurities and the unsure-ness that surround all of this. I don’t want him to leave, but I want all of him.

Damn that Nina Simone.

Studio Museum of Harlem, Dior, Love and Anthony David

Last night I had the opportunity to attend the opening of Kehinde Wiley's The World Stage: Africa, Lagos ~ Dakar, his first solo exhibition at The Studio Museum in Harlem which features ten new paintings from his multinational “The World Stage” series. It's amazing. I'm a huge fan of both Wiley and The Studio Museum of Harlem; the openings for new exhibitions are always something I look forward to. The openings usually draw an eclectic mix of folks - smart, hip, fashionable and trendsetters in their own regard and last night was no exception. The coupling of all this artistic energy and a few cocktails had me in bliss.

I have to talk about my purchase of the month for a second. I found a vintage Christian Dior track jacket this weekend. It's in great condition and a bought it for a steal. It doesn't get much better than that.

Moving on, I must admit that things are going really well with the homie-lover-friend. He's really an amazing man. I have never met anyone else like him. I've always said that my barometer for determining whether a relationship is worth it is "does he make me want to be a better man?" In this case - hell emphatically yes! We've been spending a lot of really good quality time together and merging our business interest as well. It seems to just flow. It may sound really strange, but he's taught me (still a work in progress because I have my moments) how to really love from an unconditional vantage point that's void of insecurity and ego. This means that I'm not seeking anything back in return. In this, his having a boyfriend has less of an affect on how I am able to be in this relationship because I love without the condition that he has to break up with his boyfriend. I know some folk may not be able to feel that, but that's where I am right now. I am also not going to block myself from anything else that may come along at this point. We will have to see how it all falls into place, though the homie-lover-friend has been doing a lot of talk about us settling in Atlanta.

I have officially decided that will not be returning to law school in the fall. I need to really figure out how this works into my life and things that I would like to do. I should probably be in film school or something that really feeds my creative energy. Whatever the case may be, I am in anticipation for greatness.

Lastly, I have had the Anthony David song "Words" on repeat for the last week. Check it out the lyrics really ring true.

Just Because...

1. As an adult, whenever I am visiting friends in another city, I always make a hotel reservation. This allows for my personal independence and space, but it also prevents my friends from having to adjust their lives too much. That said, a couple of friends came into town the other weekend, I informed them that I already had a house guest, but they insisted on crashing at my place. They let me know that it was fine if they "slept on the floor." I was not ok with this, so I insisted they make some sort of reservation elsewhere. It created a tense tone for the weekend. Yet, isn't my personal level of comfort important. This isn't undergrad spring break in Cancun where eight of us crammed into one room. Was I too harsh?

2. I don't really feel that I had any barbeque on the 4th, as I spent the entire time on the grill.

3. I planned a breakfast date for Thursday morning with the homie lover friend.

4. So two weekends ago I engaged in the New York Pride festivities. Actually, I went to parties all weekend - no parade and all of that. On Saturday, at the Atlanta invades New York party, a young man from the adult film industry approached me (he's one of my favorites) to compliment me on my look and to ask for my number. I obliged and took his as well. I have no intention of using it, though I will say that it did do something for my ego to have him approach me. Could I date a porn star?

5. My friends flaked on Martha's Vineyard for the 4th of July holiday.

6. Didn't the whole R. Kelly thing blow over rather quickly and calmly?

7. Fantasia and Lena Horne share the same birthday. For some reason, there is something really odd about that to me.

8. I feel like Ebony missed some key men in there top 25 "cool edition." Who would you put on the list?

9. I am glad to see the William sister back at it. Between clothing lines and dating Common, I forgot that they even played tennis.

10. So to get my mind off of the homie lover friend, my friends introduced me to some nice and rather interesting guys this past weekend. Perhaps I will go on a date with one of them and see what happens.

11. I went to a house party on Saturday and this great brownstone in Harlem. It always makes me feel warm inside to meet black gay couples being progressive.

Love Him?

"Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? “This is by far one of my favorite quotes from James Baldwin. It's been the through-line of my week thus far, that along with "Stay Down" the Mary J. Blige joint. This week, starting last Friday, has proved to be so many things. It seems like me and homie lover friend get closer and closer day by day. The average on looker would have no question that the two of us are partnered. However I have these huge moments of where uncertainty creeps in. I am very intimately involved in all aspects of his life. At this point I am working on a business project with along with him. This has meant for me, meetings with investors, researching real estate and working with consultants on the project. He wants me to take an active role in all aspects and maybe leave my current position at some point. This would ideally be great. This is what you want to do with your partner, but because he is not, I am really nervous and scared. He's currently working on his PHD, I understand his stress level and would love to work full time while he focuses on school, but I feel like I have to have a boundary.

The problem is that my love for him has no bounds, yet the manifestation of it can't fully be actualized as the situation currently exists. How foolish would I feel having done all of these things together and he ends up sharing those things with someone else? I have to safeguard myself, right? The other night we got into a bit of an argument and he said that maybe we shouldn't do this. That maybe we should not be in each other's life at all. I cried (an ugly Oprah cry). He cried. We ended up back at the same place, but even more emotionally open having taken this moment of raw emotion as a conduit for love making. I walked home with the taste of him on my lips more confused that ever. I asked myself if one could really fight for something when there's really not any opposition, only their shadow. I am not doing anything wrong so why am I fighting and who am I fighting.

I am giving myself through the weekend to really access what it is I want and need. I know that it's going to hurt to walk away, but I may have to. I don't want to pretend. I want everyone to know that he's it. I hit the jackpot. That he's all mine. You can have it all.