4 Page Letter *Story-time

Hi!

How are you? We’ve not talked in a while. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately & I have random thoughts. I am sharing them with you.

Are aware of how the women fall over themselves when you’re in the room?

My goodness. It’s an entertaining experience.

I enjoy watching the lot of women smiling in your face. Trying to get close to you one way or another. How you choose to acknowledge them, or not, is irrelevant. Your obliviousness to the activity around you tickles me. I understand being wanted by someone who you have absolutely no interest in. Matter of factly, “please hurry up and finish what you have to say and move on so I can enjoy my own company.  The BEST company.”

I struggle with space and communication. I enjoy my own space and have come to recognize how that enjoyment is a contributing factor to my trash attempts at communication. It mostly affects the initiating part. I am easily frustrated and discouraged at today’s norm for the rules of engagement. Maybe we’re all alike and none of us really want to talk because we’re all enjoying our solitude. So we choose not to respond immediately, never return calls, and allow the notification numbers to reach astronomical heights. If I call, I only let the phone ring about 3 times and I’ll never leave a voicemail. Texting, which I hate doing, gives me a level of anxiety that makes me not want to be bothered with the task at all.  It’s not worth it if it sits “delivered” or left on “read”. No response. I think the anxiety must be a visceral reaction to past interactions where, communicationally, the effort to bother with the task doesn’t seem worth it. Fuck it. I know how to entertain myself. All the way up until I get bored. Or until I want to point out an interesting fact to someone. If I keep conversing with myself my neighbors might discover that I’ve gone mad from too much solitude. Yikes! It’s all fun and games until you want to try a new restaurant or attend an event with good company.  I am great at communicating in those spaces. In person. Up close. One on one. Like the song.  But, to get to that space, there must be a phone call. A text message. Maybe an email. I don’t freaking know. The increased likelihood of a chance encounter while I’m out in these streets solo is ideal for me. Events. Not so much.  

When we’re eventing, it’s there where, I entertain myself from afar. Giggling to myself as I watch the women fool themselves about you.  The big smiles, the leaning in to maneuver into softly touching your arm, chest, or shoulder while laughing.  The sharp looks at other women when they enter the conversation. Or how they attempt to pull you away for their private moment with you when you are chatting with another woman. 

Man, listen. The way I cackled with my girlfriends describing how at the last event we attended, a man had to go collect his woman because she was all in your face. Smiling way too hard. Being just a bit too friendly.  She was collected, given a strong word or two and encouraged to sat down closer to the designated exit until it was time to go.  It was just about time to go.  Me, an expert at observing and entertaining myself, watched the story unfold. Miss Thing ended the night sitting at a table alone, waiting, lips poked out, staring/scrolling on her phone.  I snuck a pic to share with the girlies. Unwittingly, I walked by the smiling face activity as it was happening. I was slightly concerned as to why she was smiling in your face so damned hard. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.

Admittedly, I was a tiny bit jealous. So Yes, there was an experience of joy in watching her being collected. Boy was she pissed for the rest of the evening.

Smiling all up in that man’s face.

The married ones. The hard up ones. The ones who claim they don’t want to be bothered can’t help themselves around you. I totally get it. I’m not mad at them. Nope, not at all.  I want to be bothered. But, I am unsure, nervous, and too awkward to articulate it to you in a way that seems appropriate. Life is easier if I just stay to myself. Want from afar. Watch as others fawn and be silly about you. Daydream and build myself up to ask a simple question, to say Good Morning.  To want absolutely nothing. How to accomplish that? Can I accomplish that? You know what, he doesn’t seem interested. Maybe he’s busy. I’ll just stay over here. Maybe I’ll run into him at the next event. That’s not really where I want to run into you. Way too many people want to talk to you.  I never truly get your full attention. It’s only a matter of time before someone pulls you away. 

Such is life. Why bother.

I enjoy my solitude. And even though I’ve not resigned myself to life as a spinster, I’m ok with waiting for the right one. Constantly in preparation to welcome intention and purpose. 

This seems like a lot. Maybe it is. Writing is my communication of choice. Here it is. Black, white, and gray. I’ve caught myself up in this evolution of our friendship. Barriers and walls seem to have been lowered. There’s a little more ease in our conversations. The energy between us ebbs and flows. Never dissipating.

Ever-present.

It’s in the extra squeeze as you pull me in closer with the hugs. Me leaning in to get my chance at that lingering soft touch. We’ve evolved from the good church hug to the I could just hold you here hug. I’d stay put. I’m a total creep these days. Any opportunity to touch you I’m seizing. With reckless abandon you will be seized. I’m all over it. Well, you.  I am all over you.  It’s intense. I’m intense. I recognize this. I also recognize that this intensity does not exist in a vacuum. It is not an idea that I have conjured up in madness. Because, for as much as I have relinquished a level of personal control in my behavior, I have made good use of my solitude by weighing all options to not overthink myself into any bad decisions. 

That’s probably why I am perplexed. Again.  Which I no longer want to be. It’s a time suck.  There are so many things that I want to do. Explore. Learn. With and about you.  How do I tell you this? When, actually? I don’t think I am one of those women throwing themselves at you.  I have no game. Which is weird because when I am around a lot of people. They are men. I should have picked up a strategy or two that I could implement.

I’m going off of two things here. The energetic pull that has existed since our very beginning. And the comfort that we settle into whenever we get to share space. Any space. Co-captains and all. Partnership looks good on us.

The opportunity for me to tell you about what I experienced the first time I saw you eludes me. I’ve been sent down a road that was unexpected. You, Sir, are a productivity inspiration. Like I said in a poem. You are a movement of God. 

I am weary of daydreaming and wanting. Inching forward and then freezing because of a doubt that stems from my poor communication skills, fear, and an attempt at working through a conditioning of being mishandled and embracing silence. I should be bolder like the women who throw themselves at you.  

Let’s go for a scenic drive and find somewhere to take photos. Your camera is way better than mine, but, let’s see what shots we get. Who gets the better shots.

I will not promise that I won’t be a creep. 🤭

I have digressed.

Remember when we were at the garden for the Digging activity. You had a guest with you.  You introduced her to many, but not to me. Which was fine. I didn’t care. I think she did though.  Maybe she saw one of those times where I walked up to you and put my boobies on your chest.  I thought it was a fun thing to do. I seize every opportunity at entertaining myself and getting me some you.  Never once did you step back or away from me. It was always just a quick super close encounter that I began each conversational engagement with. Like a tap on your shoulder, but on your chest, with ma boobies. If she considered herself your special lady for the day, then she had her eyes on us both. She peeped the energy. And probably my conversation starters. There is a certain type of woman who is extremely disturbed by our tendency to stand off to the side talking betwixt ourselves. They see us and with purpose and intention, find an excuse to break it up.  They need you immediately for one unnecessary reason or another. They want you.  You hilariously remain unmoved.

Special Lady of Garden Day didn’t have the balls to move that way.  But, she did attempt to try me. To find a way to reprimand me. To correct me. Since she was no match for the energy that moves between the two of us.  It was cute. During the final group conversation I referenced red solo cups to someone jokingly as I walked away.  She called herself correcting me. “That’s not what he said.” I said “ excuse me?”.

Special Lady asserted. “He said yada yada yada. And you said this, that, and the other.” 

 “Um, What? ma’am. First, that’s not what I said. Second. Don’t correct me.” She scooted away awkwardly. I didn’t stick around to observe which direction. Maybe to find you. Gurl! If you don’t leave me the hell alone while I mind my solo business.

Then it dawned on me. Prior to that exchange while the group conversation was happening I was just standing around like I do. Being nosy.  Mindlessly, switching hands on hips. Going from right to left. Listening to you, the group. That Afrocentric mom. Chilling. When you called me out for constantly repositioning. “ a little teapot…” In calling me out you revealed to the group that you were watching me. I mean, I was standing directly across from you.  And we’re silly.  You’re silly.  It wasn’t a thing to me. But to a woman who wants you but isn’t getting the attention from you she thinks she deserves, you just told her who has your attention.  Now, I’m public enemy Numero Una. 

She should have put her boobies on your chest. 

You have no clue how they fall over themselves about you.  Maybe you do and it’s white noise to you now.  It’s part of the reason why I choose my words carefully with you.  Why I keep a distance. Maybe I should be bolder like other woman are.  Here’s another funny story.

Holiday Party 2023. You showed up late. You weren’t dressed for the thing and all the women were in your face. Even the lesbian.  It was a sight to see. Some extremely petite chick who had crashed the party attached herself to you for the night.  Everywhere you went she wasn’t far behind. Eventually showing up at your library event a few months later.  The same event where you pointed me out to the WHOLE CROWD. The room was packed. Your Momma was there. The woman who seemed to be your girlfriend was there. And you pointed me out to the crowd. Such an awkward moment. The whole room turned and looked at me at your insistence. There she is, over there.

Do you know that afterwards people were coming up to me asking me if I had extra copies? Was there an online option? “Uh, I don’t know, but get in line and get yours before he runs out.” As if I was your better half. Man! If Seemed to be Girlfriend was a cartoon, smoke would have been coming out of her ears.

Anywho, Extremely Petite, was running around the event that evening. But she eventually disappeared after you introduced me to your audience. Now, she may still be in your life, but she certainly doesn’t appear randomly.  She’s no longer following you around. At least not in public. Ha! 

I have digressed again, oops. Holiday Party 2023. You arrived late. Not dressed for a holiday party. I think you may have just ended a road trip. Somehow, still in your traveling clothes you are the most interesting man in the room. There’s a lesbian doing the lean in laugh. It’s like high school on the landing outside of the party. All of the cool guys standing, watching, and being watched. I’m sitting at the bar next to my party partner talking shit when you come into the main room see me and then give me a good ol‘ church hug. We exchange pleasantries. 

Eventually, Extremely Petite enters the scene and makes her attachment for the night. Apparently y’all are friends on the social medias. At some point that little crowd dispersed and I go out on to the landing. You were back on the landing chatting with the guy in the hat.  I was at the check- in table half listening to the Bajan lady wishing party leavers a Happy Holiday. “Thanks for coming!”  Abruptly, the Bajan lady changes topic from the new breakfast spot to wanting to know what’s up with you. “Whattup wit’ chyah boy?” She asks. I’m like “Who?” “Chyah boy.  ‘im.” Nodding her head towards you and then going into soliloquy on how she couldn’t understand what was wrong with you and why you were ignoring her advances. It was an odd conversation. Apparently she slid into your DMs. 

😝 I did that.  That’s something I would never do again.  It’s weird. But i get it.

She’s in the DM talking about how you helping with planning the party was needed. Trying to find a way to get next to you. You weren’t responsive. At that point in the conversation, neither was I. Finally I asked “Oh. Well, why don’t you ask him?” She declined. Apparently the thought was that I had the inside scoop.  Little did she know that during that time I was lo key upset with you. Our friendship dynamic had shifted a few months prior. We were in an ebb and I wasn’t happy about it. Nevertheless! That energy. The pull. 

Almost, sort of like, kind of feels like the Isley Brothers song ~And I Can’t Let Go. Digressed again. My bad.

Bajan Lady is pulled away for a brief second and the crowd around you has moved on.  I hurry over to you and lock my arm with yours. “Don’t move.” I say.  Finally catching a moment. “How you?” You ask. I say “I’m ok.  How are you?” “ Tired. I just got back in town.” “You did?!  I’m glad you made it back safely.” “ yeah, I drove 8 straight hours. In the snow.” “ Oh my god!!! Snow! A snow storm! I’m so glad that you made it home safely.” I just kept saying that I’m happy you made it home safely.  I was concerned. And happy. And didn’t want to let you go. Then I realized that you weren’t moving. “Why are you being still. Why are you being weird?”  “You didn’t say unfreeze.” “Oh. Well you can unfreeze now.” And at that moment while laughing I saw ol’ girl out the corner of my eye staring us down. I know she’s like “this bitch done told me that she didn’t know what a gwan wit ‘im and here she is all hugged up with this(my)man.” So she stormed over with the cash box like “‘ave you seen the guy in charge? Give him this box.” Shoving the cash box towards you.  “He’s in there.” I say pointing towards the main room. You take the box from her, smiling “I’ll take the box but I can’t say I’ll give it to him.” She was livid. Definitely feeling some kind of way about you and then you and me. The Bajan lady stormed off disappearing for the rest of the night.

Listen. When you don’t give them the time of day, the rejection performance is a sight. Very entertaining. I guess because you’re not a woman you miss these occurrences entirely.  It is very interesting. And when the attention is seemingly on me. Whew child! That’s a whole other thing. I understand that behavior. They dare not act out towards you.  Then, they will just appear weird and crazy.  I’m the easy target and that’s a story for another time.

Like the fat Dr. who can’t get a job.  She saw us having one of our side conversations and came up pretending to be oblivious of me, “Good morning yall.” speaking directly to you, talking to you as if U and I weren’t mid-conversation. I did not exist and you weren’t in the least bit interested in her idle chitchat. I walked away, as I’m sure you eventually did.  

To do or not to do. That’s a good question that I have to find the answer to. For now, I will continue to be entertained by the activity around you.

Thank you so much for indulging me and my storytelling. 4 page letters can be super long.

Talk to you later.

Always,

C