Month: December 2016

No Better Cure

Posted on by theotherblackwoman

Sitting at LAX airport, a city where I onced lived for seven years, I feel disconnected. It’s as if I never lived here. I never lived that crazy lesbian life so long ago.The bars, dancing, L word parties, bbqs all erased from my memory. The butch, the bootie call, the dirty talker. These are the women I dated.ah the thirties…good times. The butch one only lasted for four months. Been there, done that. 

Numb. Nothing. 

I feel more of a connection to London, Bangkok, Laos or even Seattle. 

However, my new place is Melbourne, Australia. The main reason being my bestie lives there. Don’t get me wrong, I have about four besties but this one is special.I have never had just one best friend. I usually don’t have any close friends, who live in the city I am in. 

She’s like the other half of me. We like the same music, movies, food and clothes but due to her amazingly slim body, I can’t wear half the stuff she wears. The way she dresses looks effortless. I hate the word magical but it appears magical. Just flawless.

She’s way more sophisticated than me. Smart, witty, up and strong. I thought I almost lost her last year when she got cancer. I worried everyday. Messaged her. She lives on the otherside of the globe…people. I told her if things got bad, I would be there. And I would. When I have friends in which I’ve met in a unique way and we had a connection, I am loyal.
Just for the record, I loathe that word connection. My ex used it too freely then we lost ours. 

I digress. 

So.. To meet a girl in Asia at a jazz club, drink Chang to avoid the heat during a country wide curfew and still laugh at the chaos around us, is my kind of best friend. The kind I’d call if I was trapped in a prison. Stranded in country. In love with a country. 

There is no better cure. 

For two weeks I laughed, smiled, hugged her close and felt complete. She’s my rock. My gal. My strength. My mate. My warrior.

 As long as she keeps fighting I will always have her back and when she grows tired… I will build her up. 

No better.

Cure.

 

Holiday what?

Posted on by theotherblackwoman

I tried to buy a homeless man breakfast this morning but he pretended to sleep. It made me think about being alone over the holidays. 

You see, we used to have these big lavish ones. My mom would have me bring up over 18 small xmas trees from the basement. I would decorate them while bitching and moaning. My niece would do the main tree in the library. My mum would sit there and tell her where to put all the ornaments while drinking egg nog. Sometimes…they would argue…but we all loved it. 

Then the condo happened. Now she’s in sunny California. 

Me here.

It reminded me of never having any traditions with my ex. He had them with others but not me. A yearly camping trip, music festivals with his sons. 

Me nothing. 

For almost nine years I have never had the holidays with him. Two years ago,  he quit giving me gifts. It’s odd because I am a simple gal.

 I like useful things. 

Think a coffee gift card.

Target card.

Converse tennis shoes. 

A pet gift card. You get the picture. 

A few weeks ago I asked him for a back pack from REI. He said yes. I sent him photos….never got it or a response

For nine xmases. He has never sat with me in front of a tree drinking toddys. Put up lights. Had a xmas dinner. Went xmas shopping with me. Walked with me around the U Village. 

She got all of these things. I know I would’ve appreciated him more. 

It’s obvious.I never cared to yell at him. That’s not my style.

Gone to a dog park with me. Spent time with my pup. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love buying him things. Always have. But I don’t think they mean anything to him. I still have a Japanese woodblock calender from 2016 that he never took home. He’s been in my apartment once since April. 

He’s different. I may be reminiscing because the holidays slay me.

I am SLAYED.

I always see travel books, hipster t-shirts, unique beer, music shows and odd things that remind me of him. It’s hard.

He’s privileged but so is she. She stays at home and is taken care off. I bust my ass and have never been taken care of. I struggle.

 Hustle. 

I resent. I deserved what she got and gets and will continue to get, love or no love. Until she dies. 

Don’t get weird. I mean old age..folks..

So the other day. It clicked. I had mentioned that his texts in the morning made me happy. He stopped sending them. I don’t know if it was intentional but they stopped. I would look down and smile at a text from, “on a break” at 7:45am

I know great contact name…and no you can’t use it. 

I thought a few days after that I am not worthy. So if he thinks so. I should go. For one year. I’ve been saddened by my loss of him. Thinking one day he will want me again. But he doesn’t. I know that now…right before 2017.

Go me!

For nine years he’s known that I am alone for Xmas and New Years. No mindfulness. No interest. In me.

I am ready. To move on. I’ve tried.

So for anyone new reading this. Love the one you’re with. If you don’t love them anymore. 

Than leave. Life is too short. 

But by hurting those who love you. You’re losing. ie..me..not her.

And this gal never wanted diamonds. 

Just love…..