Ok, so I owe you an update on Carlos. I was reluctant to delve deeper into the Carlos situation until a very dear friend threatened to end our friendship because I had left y’all hanging. So, here goes.
I wish I could report back with something like this:
It’s Saturday morning around 11 am and I get a call from Carlos.
“Hey it’s Carlos,” he says. “Are you still free today? I thought maybe we could get together a litter later if you could fit me in.”
I, trying extra hard to sound unaffected, would say, “Sure, I have a little time this afternoon. Say, around 3pm?”
“Cool.”
Then, I would hang up and rush to pick out an outfit, fix my hair, and put on a little mascara and lip gloss. Finally, I would meet up with Carlos a little after 3pm (being fashionably late on a first date is a must) looking fabulous, and enjoy a fun-filled afternoon with the dude I’d been crushing on since middle school. We would laugh, talk, giggle, flirt, and then live happily ever after.
Ha!
Notice how I said “I wish I could say” that all that happened? That wasn’t a mistake. I really do WISH that I could say that. But, I can’t.
Here’s what really happened:
Saturday arrives and I sleep in late (until 9:30am) because I partied myself out at Abdul’s party the night before. I wake up and fill my morning with my usual Saturday routine, which includes a cup of coffee while reading the paper, an extra long shower, and a mani/pedi at the nail salon in my neighborhood. I spend Saturday afternoon sleeping and finally forced myself to get up and get dressed for the two birthday parties I was hitting up Saturday night. I got home from the second Saturday party around 3am on Sunday morning, and Carlos still had not called.
Now, ordinarily, I wouldn’t panic if a guy decides not to call for a couple days after we exchange numbers. I would chalk the delay up to him attempting to be nonchalant. But, when a dude that (1) I already know and (2) made it clear that he wanted to hang out the very next day, decides not to call when he says he will call, that is a problem. My biggest pet peeve is lack of follow-through. If you say you will call, then you should.
I still didn’t trip about not hearing from Carlos, though. Something deep down had me prepared subconsciously for his inevitable fuck up. I knew that something would go wrong. Either way, he faked on me and that is one thing I cannot stand. So, he was no longer the Golden Boy in my eyes. After Saturday, Carlos lost some of his shine.
Anyway, on Sunday, I went to church (GREAT service) and then to brunch. I came home and took yet another nap. (I am discovering that I can’t party two nights in a row. I’m getting too old for this shit.) I didn’t wake up until late afternoon on Sunday. I had only been awake a few minutes when I receive this text message:
Hey, my bad about yesterday. Work/sleep. Sorry bout that.
That’s it. That’s all he wrote (no pun intended). I didn’t even warrant a phone call.
Just because I was curious about what would happen next, I responded:
No problem. I was wondering what happened to you…
In retrospect, I get that I probably shouldn’t have even responded to that bullshit text that he sent. And that realization is supported by the fact that he never responded to my reply. So, since Friday, the only interaction that we’ve had is the one text he sent and the one I sent back.
Ok, so, let me explain something. I am a BIG texter. I send and receive over 600 text messages a month – Tmobile LOVES to remind me of this – and I know it’s a bit pathetic, but as I’ve grown older I’ve become less of a telephone person. My attention span has become so short, it’s really hard for me to even attempt to sit on the phone with someone for a substantial period of time. But, I was really pissed off at Carlos’s text because it let me know just how insignificant I really am to him. I know this because, as hard as it is for me to focus on a telephone conversation, I am able to snap right to attention and be pretty charming and witty for extended amounts of time WHEN I AM TALKING TO SOMEONE WHO MATTERS. In other words, if I like you, I’d rather converse with you than text you.
Anyway, I don’t even know why I expected Carlos to follow through. It was really obvious that we were both tipsy when we had our exchange outside of Abdul’s party on Friday night. Maybe when he sobered up and realized what he said and decided that he didn’t want to take it to that level with me. Maybe he woke up Saturday and discovered that he wasn’t really attracted to me after all. Who knows? But, really, who wants to be involved with a guy who’s only interested when he’s drunk?
I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed. I’m sure (now that you know all the backstory) you could probably guess that I was thrilled to finally be able to go on a date with the guy I’d been feeling since puberty. But, when I really think about it, even if he were to call now, I wouldn’t be excited to hear from him. The way he handled the situation was a let down and reminded me of just how much it can suck when you run into a dude who is a true asshole. And I promised myself, after Mr. Ex, that I would never again date another guy who made me feel bad about myself.
So much for God opening a window…
I think the incident with Carlos served its purpose, though. I was feeling shitty after finding out that Abdul had finally moved on and God allowed me to walk away from that party with dignity by making Carlos stand up and take notice that I had, indeed, come a long was since middle school.
Also, it’s high time that I stop taking things so seriously. A few weeks ago, Jenna, my homegirl from way back, accused me of being a “serial monogamist”. She said that after three dates, me and my dudes are meeting each other’s parents and by the fourth date we’ve moved in together. As much as I wanted to challenge her on her characterization of me, I think she might have a friggin point! Looking back, I see the pattern that sets me on a path to “relationship” on the first date. From date #1, I am contemplating bridesmaid dresses, sit-down or buffet dinner at the reception, and possibilities for china patterns (do people still register for china these days?).
I’ve got to remember that a date is exactly that… a date! Nothing more, nothing less. Even if Carlos and I had actually made it on our little outing, all it would’ve meant is that we spent a few hours together. It doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship or even on the road to one. Even as I’m typing this, I am laughing out loud at myself because I realize how ridiculous my thought-process can be.
Whew! I’ve got some work to do… (on myself!)
Bottom line is, despite all the excitement that surrounded the prospect of Carlos and I finally linking up, he didn’t turn out to be the prince that I’ve been waiting for. But, I guess I’ll have to just keep on kissing frogs until I finally get it right…
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Something else...
More about Friday night… now, you didn’t think I misspoke when I said “Friday night was FULL or surprises” in my last post, did you? Well, the first surprise was Abdul and his new girlfriend, my namesake. The other surprise was… something else.
Back in the sixth grade, my parents decided that they were uncomfortable with the public school system and enrolled me in Catholic school. It turns out that the Catholic school they chose was worse than any public school in the area. So, one day, my dad got fed up with the nonsense, takes me to my Catholic school, withdraws me, and drives me to my neighborhood school where I matriculated the next day. I was happier than a pig in slop that first day at my new school. First, because I was reunited with all my friends from middle school, second because I was now introduced to a new crop of seventh and eighth grade boys that would be the foundation for many of my crushes over the years.
During my first semester of middle school, there was a pep rally held for our basketball team in the school’s gym. I was still getting to know the school building and hadn’t yet encountered even a fraction of the students who attended the school. I was sitting with my friends, cheering along with the cheerleaders when the coach decided to make an announcement about the eighth grade students who would be playing their last season for the school. The coach called for some boy named Carlos and I was expecting a Latin boy to come bounding out of the crowd, but instead, the cutest black boy I had ever seen in my young life, joins the coach on the court. I am dumbfounded, flabbergasted. My heart started beating faster and I felt butterflies in my tummy. It was official. I was in puppy love!
From that day on, I just knew that Carlos was the love of my life. We were meant to be together. The small obstacle challenging our love was that he didn’t know I existed. Plus, word on the street was that he was dating one of the eighth grade cheerleaders. What could be more perfect and sickening but the star of the basketball team dating a cute little cheerleader? But, the news broke my heart and I just relegated myself to the fact that Carlos would never be mine.
The next year, Carlos moved on to our neighborhood high school. But, lo and behold, his younger brother entered the sixth grade, a year behind me. Carlos’s brother, Jeff, and I became very good friends. He was a cutie, too, but nowhere near as cute as Carlos. I kept up with Carlos’s whereabouts through Jeff and learned that he was seriously dating someone in high school (naturally). Even though I had many more crushes, I always held a soft spot in my heart for Carlos.
Fast forward about six or seven years. I was a few years into college at the state university and decided that I wanted to get a part-time job so I could pay for an apartment off-campus. I wanted to work at the mall, but my mother suggested that I try getting a campus job. I finally decided to work as a cashier at the campus bookstore. The busiest time for the bookstore was right before classes began, so the management wanted all new employees to come in for a few weeks during the summer for training. My first day of training, I was running late and slipped into the back of the conference room. The store manager was standing at the front of the room discussing store policy.
Then, she says, “You each will be paired with a senior cashier to help you with your training. I’m going to call a few up to the front to give you a brief explanation of what your duties will include.” She gives a signal to someone in the crowd and a guy walks up and stands in front of the crowd.
I literally gasp out loud. The person standing at the front of the room is none other than Carlos. In the flesh! I couldn’t believe it. And, even after all these years, when I looked at him, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t hear a word he said. I just had a flashback to middle school, watching him walk through the school looking cool, getting respect from all the guys and hugs from all the girls. He looked the same - still cute, still confident, still… short. Lol! (But who am I to judge?!)
When we finally made it into the store and were given our cash drawers for the first time, Carlos walks over to me and says, “Don’t I know you?”
I am startled and more than a little flustered, but I manage to tell him that we went to middle school together and that I know his brother, Jeff. From that moment on, we develop a very obvious little flirtation. A little while later, Carlos forgets about me and instead develops an intense crush on an Asian girl who worked at the cash register next to me. They flirt and date openly and my feelings are destroyed. I try not to let it get to me, but it was a little devastating. I thought that, finally, after all these years, I might have a chance with the infamous Carlos. But, instead, he gravitated toward someone who looked NOTHING like me. I figured that had to mean that he wasn’t attracted to me at all. After all, how could he be attracted to her and me at the same time? We’re so different! Where she is bones, I am flesh, where she is light, I am dark. But, soon after, I would no longer have to deal with that. He quit the store for personal reasons, so I didn’t see him much after that (although his girl would make it a point to talk about him on a pretty much daily basis).
So, Friday night, during Abdul’s party, Carlos is spotted walking through the crowd (small town, remember?). I see him, but I’m not sure how I should react toward him. I had pretty much decided that he was out of my league. I wasn’t the type of girl that he was interested in anyway, so why continue to pine after someone who was so obviously not into me? Anyway, I am standing with T and my bestie and Carlos comes over and hugs each of them. (I told you that in DC, EVERYBODY knows everybody ELSE.) When he gets to me, he takes a step back and looks me up and down. He seems impressed, but I cannot be sure.
He leans in for a hug and whispers, “Long time, no see. You look good.”
I am a bit taken aback, but I say, “Thanks, you do too.”
He walks away and I am thinking, damn, he still looks great! I keep it moving, though, and continue to have a good time with my friends at the party. Later, I bump into Carlos by the bar. He leans down and asks me what’s been up with me. And then he asks me those dreaded questions, “Are you married yet? Do you have any kids?” I tell him that I am chilling, not married, no kids. He says he has neither a wife nor children. This is promising, I think. But, then I see him turn his back and chat it up with some other girl, so I, again, chalk it up to his just being curious about what I’ve been up to, and keep it moving.
After Abdul broke the news about his new relationship with my namesake, I was ready to leave. My bestie and I hit up coat check to gather our belongings and then we head out the door. At this point, my feet are killing me after dancing in three-inch stilettos for four hours. I wobble out the door in a daze and run right into Carlos’s chest. Before I can move, he wraps his arms around me, making this our third embrace of the night. Funny, I don’t remember him ever hugging me this much in all the years we have known each other. I am a bit tipsy and I suspect he is, too.
He whispers in my right ear, “Weren’t we supposed to go out a long time ago?”
Not that I can remember, I am thinking to myself. I would’ve definitely remembered that!
But to him I say, “Uh, yeah. I think we were.”
“You said you’re not married, right?” he says, still holding me close.
“Right. Not married. VERY single,” I say. There go those damn butterflies.
“Well, we need to go out.”
“That’s cool, you tell me when you’re free.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks immediately, finally letting me go.
I tell him that I have no definite plans during the day, but my night is booked up. He asks for my number and he gives me his. We make plans to see each other Saturday during the day. He kisses my cheek and goes back inside the club. My bestie and I wobble to our cars and say goodnight.
“What was Carlos saying to you?” she asks.
“He asked me on a date!” I say. We giggle because she knows how many years I had been waiting for that invitation.
Isn’t this just like God? When one door closes [Abdul], he opens a window [Carlos].
To be continued…
Back in the sixth grade, my parents decided that they were uncomfortable with the public school system and enrolled me in Catholic school. It turns out that the Catholic school they chose was worse than any public school in the area. So, one day, my dad got fed up with the nonsense, takes me to my Catholic school, withdraws me, and drives me to my neighborhood school where I matriculated the next day. I was happier than a pig in slop that first day at my new school. First, because I was reunited with all my friends from middle school, second because I was now introduced to a new crop of seventh and eighth grade boys that would be the foundation for many of my crushes over the years.
During my first semester of middle school, there was a pep rally held for our basketball team in the school’s gym. I was still getting to know the school building and hadn’t yet encountered even a fraction of the students who attended the school. I was sitting with my friends, cheering along with the cheerleaders when the coach decided to make an announcement about the eighth grade students who would be playing their last season for the school. The coach called for some boy named Carlos and I was expecting a Latin boy to come bounding out of the crowd, but instead, the cutest black boy I had ever seen in my young life, joins the coach on the court. I am dumbfounded, flabbergasted. My heart started beating faster and I felt butterflies in my tummy. It was official. I was in puppy love!
From that day on, I just knew that Carlos was the love of my life. We were meant to be together. The small obstacle challenging our love was that he didn’t know I existed. Plus, word on the street was that he was dating one of the eighth grade cheerleaders. What could be more perfect and sickening but the star of the basketball team dating a cute little cheerleader? But, the news broke my heart and I just relegated myself to the fact that Carlos would never be mine.
The next year, Carlos moved on to our neighborhood high school. But, lo and behold, his younger brother entered the sixth grade, a year behind me. Carlos’s brother, Jeff, and I became very good friends. He was a cutie, too, but nowhere near as cute as Carlos. I kept up with Carlos’s whereabouts through Jeff and learned that he was seriously dating someone in high school (naturally). Even though I had many more crushes, I always held a soft spot in my heart for Carlos.
Fast forward about six or seven years. I was a few years into college at the state university and decided that I wanted to get a part-time job so I could pay for an apartment off-campus. I wanted to work at the mall, but my mother suggested that I try getting a campus job. I finally decided to work as a cashier at the campus bookstore. The busiest time for the bookstore was right before classes began, so the management wanted all new employees to come in for a few weeks during the summer for training. My first day of training, I was running late and slipped into the back of the conference room. The store manager was standing at the front of the room discussing store policy.
Then, she says, “You each will be paired with a senior cashier to help you with your training. I’m going to call a few up to the front to give you a brief explanation of what your duties will include.” She gives a signal to someone in the crowd and a guy walks up and stands in front of the crowd.
I literally gasp out loud. The person standing at the front of the room is none other than Carlos. In the flesh! I couldn’t believe it. And, even after all these years, when I looked at him, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t hear a word he said. I just had a flashback to middle school, watching him walk through the school looking cool, getting respect from all the guys and hugs from all the girls. He looked the same - still cute, still confident, still… short. Lol! (But who am I to judge?!)
When we finally made it into the store and were given our cash drawers for the first time, Carlos walks over to me and says, “Don’t I know you?”
I am startled and more than a little flustered, but I manage to tell him that we went to middle school together and that I know his brother, Jeff. From that moment on, we develop a very obvious little flirtation. A little while later, Carlos forgets about me and instead develops an intense crush on an Asian girl who worked at the cash register next to me. They flirt and date openly and my feelings are destroyed. I try not to let it get to me, but it was a little devastating. I thought that, finally, after all these years, I might have a chance with the infamous Carlos. But, instead, he gravitated toward someone who looked NOTHING like me. I figured that had to mean that he wasn’t attracted to me at all. After all, how could he be attracted to her and me at the same time? We’re so different! Where she is bones, I am flesh, where she is light, I am dark. But, soon after, I would no longer have to deal with that. He quit the store for personal reasons, so I didn’t see him much after that (although his girl would make it a point to talk about him on a pretty much daily basis).
So, Friday night, during Abdul’s party, Carlos is spotted walking through the crowd (small town, remember?). I see him, but I’m not sure how I should react toward him. I had pretty much decided that he was out of my league. I wasn’t the type of girl that he was interested in anyway, so why continue to pine after someone who was so obviously not into me? Anyway, I am standing with T and my bestie and Carlos comes over and hugs each of them. (I told you that in DC, EVERYBODY knows everybody ELSE.) When he gets to me, he takes a step back and looks me up and down. He seems impressed, but I cannot be sure.
He leans in for a hug and whispers, “Long time, no see. You look good.”
I am a bit taken aback, but I say, “Thanks, you do too.”
He walks away and I am thinking, damn, he still looks great! I keep it moving, though, and continue to have a good time with my friends at the party. Later, I bump into Carlos by the bar. He leans down and asks me what’s been up with me. And then he asks me those dreaded questions, “Are you married yet? Do you have any kids?” I tell him that I am chilling, not married, no kids. He says he has neither a wife nor children. This is promising, I think. But, then I see him turn his back and chat it up with some other girl, so I, again, chalk it up to his just being curious about what I’ve been up to, and keep it moving.
After Abdul broke the news about his new relationship with my namesake, I was ready to leave. My bestie and I hit up coat check to gather our belongings and then we head out the door. At this point, my feet are killing me after dancing in three-inch stilettos for four hours. I wobble out the door in a daze and run right into Carlos’s chest. Before I can move, he wraps his arms around me, making this our third embrace of the night. Funny, I don’t remember him ever hugging me this much in all the years we have known each other. I am a bit tipsy and I suspect he is, too.
He whispers in my right ear, “Weren’t we supposed to go out a long time ago?”
Not that I can remember, I am thinking to myself. I would’ve definitely remembered that!
But to him I say, “Uh, yeah. I think we were.”
“You said you’re not married, right?” he says, still holding me close.
“Right. Not married. VERY single,” I say. There go those damn butterflies.
“Well, we need to go out.”
“That’s cool, you tell me when you’re free.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks immediately, finally letting me go.
I tell him that I have no definite plans during the day, but my night is booked up. He asks for my number and he gives me his. We make plans to see each other Saturday during the day. He kisses my cheek and goes back inside the club. My bestie and I wobble to our cars and say goodnight.
“What was Carlos saying to you?” she asks.
“He asked me on a date!” I say. We giggle because she knows how many years I had been waiting for that invitation.
Isn’t this just like God? When one door closes [Abdul], he opens a window [Carlos].
To be continued…
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Green-eyed Monster
I had an action-packed weekend, and all the "action" was much-needed. As I have mentioned repeatedly in past posts, I had pretty much been spending every weekend at home on my couch. I hate cold weather and just can't seem to motivate myself to leave the house when the temperature is below 50 degrees. But, this weekend, I had places to go and people to see! I was invited to 3 birthday parties this weekend (one Friday, two Saturday). Interesting things happened at each of them, but I will just stick to one for right now. I had no idea that I knew so many people born in February! Happy birthday to my Pisces friends!
Friday night was full of surprises.
I had been excited about this party for weeks! My good friend Abdul was turning 28 and his parties are famous, so I knew I would have a good time. DC can definitely be a small-town at times. I love walking into a place and knowing more than half the people in the room. Friday night was like that. This actually happens a lot because people who are from DC find it hard to leave DC. Every now and again one of us escapes to another city or country, but for the most part we stick around our hometown for years past our expiration date. As a result, I have the distinct pleasure and honor of having known most of my friends for most of my life. The people at Abdul's party were people I had known since at least middle school. We are now in our late 20s, so you do the math. In other words, these people are like family... and what's better than partying in a room full of fam?
Here is some backstory on me and Abdul. We run in the same circles and had been kicking it with the same people for years, but we had never made each other's acquaintance. It took a trip to Atlanta to bring us together. In 2003, my girls and I took a trip to ATL for the NBA All-Star Game. When we touched down, we started calling around to see who from home had made it down South for the game. My bestie had gone to high school with Abdul and his cousin. Abdul’s cousin O was one DC-er who managed to escape to another town and was now calling Atlanta home. Abdul was staying at O's house for the weekend. On our second night in Atlanta, Abdul, O and a couple of their other friends met us at our hotel and the bunch of us spent a very entertaining (and platonic) night together, exploring the city and enjoying the sights and sounds of All-Star Weekend.
Well, suffice it to say, Abdul and I immediately connected. We laughed, joked, and flirted all night and made arrangements to link up when we returned home. I’m not sure what attracted us to one another. We had totally different backgrounds (he is African and Muslim, I am Black American and Christian), totally different personalities (he was quiet and shy, I was outgoing and boisterous), and really not much at all in common otherwise. But something about him was just magnetic. Part of the attraction had to do with the fact that he is possibly the cutest thing on two feet. He’s got a slender build, smooth jet black skin, and the most beautiful set of straight, white teeth that I’ve ever seen, made more pronounced by the contrast between his skin and his smile. It didn’t hurt that he could dress his butt off and was probably the sweetest guy I had met in years. All-in-all, he was a pretty good package.
When we got back to DC, Abdul called me, and a few days later we spent several hours together, just talking and getting to know each other. For months after that, he was my “going out buddy”. We went to dinner, to the movies, to the park. Anything we could think of, we did together. We just genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. We never slept together but many of our outings were peppered with hot and heavy makeout sessions. He would’ve been just about perfect – if not for what I perceived to be our very obvious differences. We would argue all the time about the stereotypes he thought were true about Black Americans and Lord knows I believed some of the stereotypes about Africans. And when he began to criticize my faith, that just about did us in. Eventually, our “dates” became and less and less frequent until we got to the point where we pretty much saw each other every once in awhile. We went on like this for years. Hot and heavy one moment, cool and cold toward each other the next. Luckily, I didn’t have much invested in the relationship so it wasn’t really the emotional rollercoaster that it appeared to be from the outside looking in.
One day, Abdul and I had a discussion and we decided that we should just be friends. Take away all the physical and friendship was what was left. And I truly enjoyed his companionship. When I didn’t have a date, I knew I could call him and he would eagerly join me for a bite to eat or a movie. If I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, I knew I could count on him to provide the male company that I needed. Then, I met Mr. Ex and became so wrapped up in him that Abdul fell to the wayside. He didn’t complain, but after Mr. Ex and I were through, I went back to Abdul seeking his friendship and he was reluctant. Who could blame him, really? We still hung out every now and again, but things weren’t like they used to be. I now know that I took him and his friendship for granted for all those years. And as soon as I found what I thought was “better” (turns out it was really oh so much WORSE, but I digress), I kicked him to the curb.
A couple of weeks ago, Abdul and I went to the movies. It took me days to track him down, but I finally caught up with him and he agreed to go with me. I know that sounds formal to say that he “agreed” to go with me, but that’s exactly how it played out. I told him that it had been nearly impossible to catch him. He explained that he had just been busy with work. And to me, that was weird. Work had never been an issue before, but he did have a fairly new job, so maybe this position was just more demanding. I told him I wanted to go to the movies and he agreed, although he seemed a tiny bit reluctant. We saw the movie, he paid (as always) and he hated it. I felt bad and offered to take him out in a couple weeks to make up for it. Then, I didn’t hear from him again... until he called to invite me to his birthday party.
“Abdul, you know I wouldn’t miss the party, but you were supposed to call me so that I could take you out.”
“Oh, I know. I just been busy. But let’s get together soon. I’ll call you.”
I hang up and know that something is not right. Any other time, Abdul would’ve jumped at the chance to hang out with me, but, I couldn’t put my finger on what caused him to act differently toward me.
Later, I tell my bestie, “I think I lost my going out buddy.”
She laughs because she knows that Abdul and I tight. “He’ll come around," she says. "He’s probably just busy.”
“That’s what he said,” I sigh. “But he’s never been ‘too busy’ before. Ever!”
So, I call him on Friday afternoon just to confirm the time and the location of the party. It will be at a lounge in Bethesda, a suburb of DC. I tell him I’ll be there.
“Alright baby girl,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling into the phone. “Thanks so much for calling.”
Aww, that melted my heart. This was sounding more like the Abdul that I know and love. Love? Well, yeah. I guess I do love him. And my heart was bursting at the thought of seeing him later that night (it had been weeks) and wishing him a happy birthday.
I did my hair, put on the new shirt and jeans I had purchased for the occasion and headed to Bethesda to meet my bestie and our girl T. I walked into the lounge and immediately found Abdul in the crowd. He came over with hugs and cheek-kisses for everyone. He squeezes my arm and tells me I look good. And he looks great. His white button down seems iridescent against his midnight skin. He has a fresh shape-up and his smile is brighter than ever.
I don’t crowd him during the night, I let him do his own thing, only speaking to him when he comes over to check on me and my girls. Literally, half the people in the spot are there for him. He’s a well-known and well-liked dude and it shows every time he has a party.
Toward the end of the night, I see him standing by himself, which is rare, since all night he has been surrounded by other people. Standing nearby is a girl who is my namesake. We have the same first name and even spell it the same, which is unique. She is also standing alone. Needless to say, we grew up with her, too.
My bestie says, “Hey! Look who it is. Let’s go say hi.” I am not really interested, but I walk over with her. I exchange pleasantries with my namesake and she and my bestie strike up a conversation. Meanwhile, I grab Abdul and start dancing with him. He holds me close and I breathe in his cologne.
Then, he leans down, kisses me on my cheek and over the thumping bass he whispers in my ear, “Let me introduce you to my girlfriend.”
My heart drops. “Girlfriend.” The word sounds foreign coming from him. It’s almost like he said it in his native language because I do not understand it.
“Girlfriend?” I repeat. He quickly turns his back and grabs my namesake’s hand and pulls her over. He introduces us.
“I know her,” I said and then walked away. I know it was rude, but I just needed a moment! My head is swimming and the music and noise from the crowd has been put on mute. I am lost in my own thoughts. Why am I devastated by the news that Abdul has a girlfriend? Is it because he didn’t tell me before tonight? Is it because he chose my namesake to be his woman? I mean, I have no real problems with my namesake. She is actually a very sweet and very kind girl and I know that she will only be good for him. She is not the issue.
I wandered around the club aimlessly until I made it back to Abdul and the namesake who were now dancing with each other. Her back was facing me and he was facing the crowd. Abdul’s eyes meet mine and he looks at me tentatively. We stared at each other for awhile until he mouths “I’m sorry.” And in that moment I realize that the reason why I am so devastated is because I am just now recognizing that Abdul is a catch. He has been all along. I just didn’t realize it… maybe I even realized it, but just didn’t acknowledge it. How does the song go? “On and on it seems to go, but you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.”
So as you can deduct, I am a bit schizophrenic when it comes to relationships. One second I’m lauding the benefits of the single life. And then I'm cursing being lonely the next. I guess what it comes down to is sometimes my relationship status is “single and loving it!” and other times I am “desperately seeking someone... anyone, in fact”. But the truth is that I do want to eventually find that person who is right for me. The yin to my yang. The peanut butter to my jelly. The lighter to my cigarette (thank Ashanti for that). I know he’s out there, but some days I am doubtful. And I feel like I just lost a good prospect for a partner in crime. Abdul and I get along famously aside from our friendly competition of Africans v. Black Americans. But now, he was left to argue his points in favor of African folk with someone else.
I know I am being unfair. My bestie pointed out later in the night that I could’ve had Abdul at any time over these years. All I had to do was say the word and I would’ve been the person he was holding hands with on Friday night. But I didn’t want to be that girl until someone else landed that role. Me being maddened and upset by the news of his new relationship was immature and childish and I know that instead of being envious, I should be happy that my good friend found happiness with my namesake. This lightbulb moment didn’t make my heart hurt any less, but it did at least make me have some “act-right” until the party was over...
I put on a happy face and pretended to enjoy myself for the remainder of the night. Hoping that my night would somehow get better... and believe it or not, it did...
Friday night was full of surprises.
I had been excited about this party for weeks! My good friend Abdul was turning 28 and his parties are famous, so I knew I would have a good time. DC can definitely be a small-town at times. I love walking into a place and knowing more than half the people in the room. Friday night was like that. This actually happens a lot because people who are from DC find it hard to leave DC. Every now and again one of us escapes to another city or country, but for the most part we stick around our hometown for years past our expiration date. As a result, I have the distinct pleasure and honor of having known most of my friends for most of my life. The people at Abdul's party were people I had known since at least middle school. We are now in our late 20s, so you do the math. In other words, these people are like family... and what's better than partying in a room full of fam?
Here is some backstory on me and Abdul. We run in the same circles and had been kicking it with the same people for years, but we had never made each other's acquaintance. It took a trip to Atlanta to bring us together. In 2003, my girls and I took a trip to ATL for the NBA All-Star Game. When we touched down, we started calling around to see who from home had made it down South for the game. My bestie had gone to high school with Abdul and his cousin. Abdul’s cousin O was one DC-er who managed to escape to another town and was now calling Atlanta home. Abdul was staying at O's house for the weekend. On our second night in Atlanta, Abdul, O and a couple of their other friends met us at our hotel and the bunch of us spent a very entertaining (and platonic) night together, exploring the city and enjoying the sights and sounds of All-Star Weekend.
Well, suffice it to say, Abdul and I immediately connected. We laughed, joked, and flirted all night and made arrangements to link up when we returned home. I’m not sure what attracted us to one another. We had totally different backgrounds (he is African and Muslim, I am Black American and Christian), totally different personalities (he was quiet and shy, I was outgoing and boisterous), and really not much at all in common otherwise. But something about him was just magnetic. Part of the attraction had to do with the fact that he is possibly the cutest thing on two feet. He’s got a slender build, smooth jet black skin, and the most beautiful set of straight, white teeth that I’ve ever seen, made more pronounced by the contrast between his skin and his smile. It didn’t hurt that he could dress his butt off and was probably the sweetest guy I had met in years. All-in-all, he was a pretty good package.
When we got back to DC, Abdul called me, and a few days later we spent several hours together, just talking and getting to know each other. For months after that, he was my “going out buddy”. We went to dinner, to the movies, to the park. Anything we could think of, we did together. We just genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. We never slept together but many of our outings were peppered with hot and heavy makeout sessions. He would’ve been just about perfect – if not for what I perceived to be our very obvious differences. We would argue all the time about the stereotypes he thought were true about Black Americans and Lord knows I believed some of the stereotypes about Africans. And when he began to criticize my faith, that just about did us in. Eventually, our “dates” became and less and less frequent until we got to the point where we pretty much saw each other every once in awhile. We went on like this for years. Hot and heavy one moment, cool and cold toward each other the next. Luckily, I didn’t have much invested in the relationship so it wasn’t really the emotional rollercoaster that it appeared to be from the outside looking in.
One day, Abdul and I had a discussion and we decided that we should just be friends. Take away all the physical and friendship was what was left. And I truly enjoyed his companionship. When I didn’t have a date, I knew I could call him and he would eagerly join me for a bite to eat or a movie. If I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, I knew I could count on him to provide the male company that I needed. Then, I met Mr. Ex and became so wrapped up in him that Abdul fell to the wayside. He didn’t complain, but after Mr. Ex and I were through, I went back to Abdul seeking his friendship and he was reluctant. Who could blame him, really? We still hung out every now and again, but things weren’t like they used to be. I now know that I took him and his friendship for granted for all those years. And as soon as I found what I thought was “better” (turns out it was really oh so much WORSE, but I digress), I kicked him to the curb.
A couple of weeks ago, Abdul and I went to the movies. It took me days to track him down, but I finally caught up with him and he agreed to go with me. I know that sounds formal to say that he “agreed” to go with me, but that’s exactly how it played out. I told him that it had been nearly impossible to catch him. He explained that he had just been busy with work. And to me, that was weird. Work had never been an issue before, but he did have a fairly new job, so maybe this position was just more demanding. I told him I wanted to go to the movies and he agreed, although he seemed a tiny bit reluctant. We saw the movie, he paid (as always) and he hated it. I felt bad and offered to take him out in a couple weeks to make up for it. Then, I didn’t hear from him again... until he called to invite me to his birthday party.
“Abdul, you know I wouldn’t miss the party, but you were supposed to call me so that I could take you out.”
“Oh, I know. I just been busy. But let’s get together soon. I’ll call you.”
I hang up and know that something is not right. Any other time, Abdul would’ve jumped at the chance to hang out with me, but, I couldn’t put my finger on what caused him to act differently toward me.
Later, I tell my bestie, “I think I lost my going out buddy.”
She laughs because she knows that Abdul and I tight. “He’ll come around," she says. "He’s probably just busy.”
“That’s what he said,” I sigh. “But he’s never been ‘too busy’ before. Ever!”
So, I call him on Friday afternoon just to confirm the time and the location of the party. It will be at a lounge in Bethesda, a suburb of DC. I tell him I’ll be there.
“Alright baby girl,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling into the phone. “Thanks so much for calling.”
Aww, that melted my heart. This was sounding more like the Abdul that I know and love. Love? Well, yeah. I guess I do love him. And my heart was bursting at the thought of seeing him later that night (it had been weeks) and wishing him a happy birthday.
I did my hair, put on the new shirt and jeans I had purchased for the occasion and headed to Bethesda to meet my bestie and our girl T. I walked into the lounge and immediately found Abdul in the crowd. He came over with hugs and cheek-kisses for everyone. He squeezes my arm and tells me I look good. And he looks great. His white button down seems iridescent against his midnight skin. He has a fresh shape-up and his smile is brighter than ever.
I don’t crowd him during the night, I let him do his own thing, only speaking to him when he comes over to check on me and my girls. Literally, half the people in the spot are there for him. He’s a well-known and well-liked dude and it shows every time he has a party.
Toward the end of the night, I see him standing by himself, which is rare, since all night he has been surrounded by other people. Standing nearby is a girl who is my namesake. We have the same first name and even spell it the same, which is unique. She is also standing alone. Needless to say, we grew up with her, too.
My bestie says, “Hey! Look who it is. Let’s go say hi.” I am not really interested, but I walk over with her. I exchange pleasantries with my namesake and she and my bestie strike up a conversation. Meanwhile, I grab Abdul and start dancing with him. He holds me close and I breathe in his cologne.
Then, he leans down, kisses me on my cheek and over the thumping bass he whispers in my ear, “Let me introduce you to my girlfriend.”
My heart drops. “Girlfriend.” The word sounds foreign coming from him. It’s almost like he said it in his native language because I do not understand it.
“Girlfriend?” I repeat. He quickly turns his back and grabs my namesake’s hand and pulls her over. He introduces us.
“I know her,” I said and then walked away. I know it was rude, but I just needed a moment! My head is swimming and the music and noise from the crowd has been put on mute. I am lost in my own thoughts. Why am I devastated by the news that Abdul has a girlfriend? Is it because he didn’t tell me before tonight? Is it because he chose my namesake to be his woman? I mean, I have no real problems with my namesake. She is actually a very sweet and very kind girl and I know that she will only be good for him. She is not the issue.
I wandered around the club aimlessly until I made it back to Abdul and the namesake who were now dancing with each other. Her back was facing me and he was facing the crowd. Abdul’s eyes meet mine and he looks at me tentatively. We stared at each other for awhile until he mouths “I’m sorry.” And in that moment I realize that the reason why I am so devastated is because I am just now recognizing that Abdul is a catch. He has been all along. I just didn’t realize it… maybe I even realized it, but just didn’t acknowledge it. How does the song go? “On and on it seems to go, but you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone.”
So as you can deduct, I am a bit schizophrenic when it comes to relationships. One second I’m lauding the benefits of the single life. And then I'm cursing being lonely the next. I guess what it comes down to is sometimes my relationship status is “single and loving it!” and other times I am “desperately seeking someone... anyone, in fact”. But the truth is that I do want to eventually find that person who is right for me. The yin to my yang. The peanut butter to my jelly. The lighter to my cigarette (thank Ashanti for that). I know he’s out there, but some days I am doubtful. And I feel like I just lost a good prospect for a partner in crime. Abdul and I get along famously aside from our friendly competition of Africans v. Black Americans. But now, he was left to argue his points in favor of African folk with someone else.
I know I am being unfair. My bestie pointed out later in the night that I could’ve had Abdul at any time over these years. All I had to do was say the word and I would’ve been the person he was holding hands with on Friday night. But I didn’t want to be that girl until someone else landed that role. Me being maddened and upset by the news of his new relationship was immature and childish and I know that instead of being envious, I should be happy that my good friend found happiness with my namesake. This lightbulb moment didn’t make my heart hurt any less, but it did at least make me have some “act-right” until the party was over...
I put on a happy face and pretended to enjoy myself for the remainder of the night. Hoping that my night would somehow get better... and believe it or not, it did...
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