April 26th, 2005

What I Need From You Is Understanding...

This episode of Queer As Folk brings more and more understanding to my mind of the DL community even for white men. Falling in love with a man who is "DL" never really came across my mind. I swear I never even saw it coming until it hit me dead smack in the face. Sometimes the line is blurred in between infatuation, lust, and love even beyond my wildest belief. Our so was the case these past seven months. I have been turned down because #1 he wasn't ready for a relationship with a man and #2 because he wanted a woman. So both leave me feeling insecure and inadequate... so many poems are scrawled across my lips proclaiming my self worth and my cushion of security but they don't stop the thoughts... was i not masculine enough? it was that outfit wasn't it? i shouldn't have worn those pants? damn, i shoulda kept my mouth shut! who woulda known what the hell a corner back was anyway...? it's my aphro, is it the glasses? naw, im not aggressive enough. damn im too aggressive. i shouldn't have had sex with him. i shoulda cared more. i shoulda pulled back less. was i demanding? i shoulda did those damn push ups. and at the end of the day there i sit alone in my bed once again probably clutching my stuffed Elmo with a handful of questions and an eyeful of tears. yet again washing my mind of someone who I've shared so many memories, still harboring feelings of insecurity, inadequency in my gut. carrying my emotional baggage for the next man to slowly unpack and subside my waves of emotions. Sometimes I don't even attribute all my pain and hurt to those men who have hurt me in my lifetime. Sometimes I find myself the fool for even accepting half of the shit that I have in a relationship. I knew what is was from the beginning so what makes me think that I could change him? Why was I so god damn special? Why did I think I was the shit? And it's those false feelings of my security net that find me hurting time after time falling in love with the same type of men. Constantly craving for someone to wipe my tears and heal my wounded heart.

The First Time I read James Earl Hardy's debut novel, I marveled at the strength of a woman's music for healing. The ability for homosexual men to connect emotionally and spiritually to the lyrics and the emotional depth the "Big singers" display. I mean where we not hurt by men, some of these same men those women are singing about? Take an example of Deborah Cox's "We Can't Be Friends"... what? I am feeling the soul of this woman from a simple adlib. Tamia "Stranger In My House"... you almost feel as if he were there he would be locked still... Whitney Houston's "Run To You" sends me running around the room in pure agony. But most of all this UK D!VA: Beverley Knight has made my heart and soul turn circles night after night. Sitting in the bath tub smoking Apple Black 'N Milds thinking bout this tired ass motherfucker, singing along to her soundtrack of hurt and pain "Til I See Ya" ...

Just one moment
In the blink of an eye
Did I miss it
When you said your goodbye?
Heaven help me
There's a hole in my head
'Cause my last memories
Were the words that you said

Said you didn't want to lose me
Said you needed time to breathe
So tell me what the hell do I do now?

Left an open door
Can't use words no more
Quietly insane
'Til I see ya, 'til I see ya
I can hardly wait
Patience has been great
I won't speak your name
'Til I see ya

Feeling nervous
What are you tryin' to say?
Play your message
In my mind everyday
Analysing every pause in the line
So convincing when you said you were mine

Said I didn't have to worry
Said you didn't want to leave
So how come you're not here with me right now?

Questioning myself: how in the hell could I be so dumb? What in the hell am I thinking being friends? Why in the hell am I so wishy washy? So damn giving all the time? But most of all...why am I still in love. What makes my heart still beat? What makes my heart race when I mention his name....let it fall off my lips like gold....? When I know for certain right from the horse's mouth that he is full of shit. And instead of turning away, I still continue to pump tons of love into something that will never lift off the ground, something that is non existent, something all a figment of imagination. what am i thinking? do i really expect something miraculous to happen just because I would give so much more of myself than he would? Still so many words still unspoken, still so many emotions I'm feeling. For what? For fucking nothing... That's What....

But like the UK D!VA says: "Left an open door/Can't use words no more/Quietly insane/'Til I see ya, 'til I see ya"
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