I’m striaight pMSing. I’m gassy, bloated, cramping, nauseaous and spotting. Its either immaculate conception or my period is on its way. The truth I’ve been very busy trying to live my life and that is difficult. The soundtrack to my life right now is Zaki Ibrahim (wicked mellow sound, lil wayne Carter III and Lagbaja Konko Below and of course Rosemary Chukwu – Chineke Kpuchiem) I have huge difficulty living with myself staying with my thoughts, the constant realization..i find escape only in books I’ve been reading when I do pick one up: one a day, the famished road by okri, the fledgling by Octavia butler (a book I thought could easily be applied to the continental and diasporic African question BUT I think that would be dangerous and the questions get taken away by fantasy), james balwin the fire next time (great book- this man says it unmistably and clearly that African americans and other diasporics are not African, I read his words and wept), best of womens erotica my head spins with the word I am happy. I am completely absorbed, I allow myself to travel with the characters when she got shot in dangerous love I felt it in my gut and wept for African women who may not find freedom and fulfillment even in a fantasy novel. I have a bone to pick with Okri. I’ve been slightly miserable. I come home to my cute single girl apartment. I’ve got no roommates, no friends that can come over at the drop of a hat. My food goes bad in my fridge and sometimes the meat i take out to defrost goes bad cos i dont get to it. I’m losing weight cos i will often skill diner in favor of a cigarette, a cold beer and a good book. My apartment is a mess, no one to clean for except myself,no one to be anything for except myself. I am Sitting with my loneliness. I realize that most of the stuff i do my habits are for the presence, attitudes, cares, whims, and fancy of others. This time i got no else but me to impress. Its all about me. I am a massive caregiver, was raised to constantly care, look out for, look after and fuss or run after others. In the past i’ve gotten upset that they haven’t returned that care in good faith but now i have all this time and its true that my hair is always did, pussy shaved just right, legs shaved, toe nails did, i have time to play with difrent things. In a way i’m learning about myself, my personality, what i like to eat even cos i’m not thinking about a household or whether my friend/roommate will like it. But its hard. Trying to protect myself I know the emotional predators can smell loneliness from afar, know they love it, will seek it out and are pulled to it. I am so conscious that generally I hold myself at bay, keeping in mind that I presently exude misery, loneliness pheremones. I am leaking blood in shark infested waters J
I’ve been fucking my ex husband, I’m not ashamed of it even though I feel I should be. I crave the campassionship, the emotion, the full presence that he offered me whether it was good or bad or burnt me and downright left me charred and noxious. I hate the blandness, the distance of fuck buddies, or sexual partners that the sex is not that good cos you don’t know each others bodies yet. The familiarity of knowing what to touch, lick and when to increase the tempo or just hold still. Gawd I miss a good fuck. He was/is a good fuck. Oddly enough I think that now the sex is better I feel less constricted, like like I must perform fully perverse, dominating when I feel like it, allowing myself to be submissive at times. I am there, He is there.
Once I get up from the bed, once I think, I come crashing down and I often break out into quiet tears lately I’ve felt like howling. As we fuck I think its shifting something in my brain, I realize that we truly can never be a fantasy, that my real relationship with him is nothing like the fantasy that I have constructed in my head. He is not the caring, compassionate, will do anything I want lover/partner. He really does not understand me, nor does he like me, my personality, my quirks. I am not the adoring girlfriend/partner. I dislike his habits, intensely dislike his personality although I think I understand it fully. He is still the controlling mutherfucker that he always was pushing me at the slightest opportunity to get me to move, compromise my boundaries, shift my convictions for his sake and totally on his account and now I KNOW, I KNOW that those little incidents, build up, that they lead somewhere, once you move, you keep moving and if we’re taking about the precarious balance of power in my relationship then shit I aint letting mutherfucking go cos that’s the only way I can go on fucking, that’s the only way I can get mine in the end.
Nonetheless, I am cured, cured from having dead end exits, non existent relationships. I am working on it starting here, within reason. I need them to close, end an even ending.
Today I’m struggling with questions about my NSA fuck buddy, who has been respectful, tender, good to talk to on the phone turns out to be queer and at ease with himself sexually and otherwise but I’m starting to feel like a g-friend, don’t want to miss out on the possibility of companionship which despite my coy attempts at intentionally feminized interactions he seems only to be interested in we are fucking monogamous. I am coming clean though I’m going to confess my emotional unavailability so that we are clear and request presence and some kind of negotiation while attempting to remain fucking non – monogamous I hope it goes well. My guiding principle right now is I might as well or I might not get it. Period. I gotta ask. I gotta try.
I hate being this fucking lonely and feeling so fucking desperate. I feel like it leaves me fucking vulnerable. Vulnerability is to be detested? It should be ok to be vulnerable
