When Honesty May not Be Enough

I watched CNN Blacks in America the other night and grew shockingly alarmed. The percentage of single successful black women was high-excuse me; EXTREMELY HIGH. We all know why and it doesn't need to be stressed here-brothers just aren’t as successful. More in prisons then universities. Well the point I'm trying to get is that there are a few good brothers.

I have been called boastful, arrogant and many other things that constitute the same meaning but one thing no one has ever done is truly called me a liar. I am a fucking good nigga. I know what I have and when I have it, I don't make dumb ass mistakes with women's hearts and I don't play games. I pride myself in my true honest character. I love whom I am with and everything that we have grown to be. Most niggas look at the above statistic and use that to their advantage; they know that if they gain a little success they become a hot commodity and try to rotate between women. I now or never will ever again need to date because I know that I have truly found the mother of my children. So with this in mind I know that I am a part of the few good men category.

Now, I can recall a specific conversation I once had with my father. A man who has consistently cheated on my mother, hell left us when I was a new born child. I know the pain of a woman and that a man can bring. I know the responsibilities one has when they possess the heart of the opposite sex. I have done nothing but respect every woman I have come across. I also have three little sisters- one whose adolescence and two whom are just little girls. Everything I do I do with them in mind- if I were to dog a female I know how KARMA operates. Anyway I'm getting off topic and my frustration is causing my hands to shake tremendously. I asked my father if a guy and a girl could be friends and nothing more- one day. Maybe not in those exact words. He replied no-my own father, unknowingly contributing to the thought process of so many fucked up niggas, who think every time you meet someone of the opposite sex it is to FUCK. Well the original content (well purpose) of this post was to speak on my specific situation.

Here goes. I have a best friend- she was once my girlfriend. We met and instantly kicked off a friendship-pure untainted friendship. This friendship was to rare and to complex for others to understand, her friends and my friends, so the coerced us to date. Niggas would say yo you hitting that? Girls would ask her why we weren't dating. Very like my father's thought process and the world people could not understand the meaning of a pure relationship. For a long time I didn't even find this particular girl attractive. Neither one of us wanted to start dating. We would go out and I'd talk to other females in her presence and vice versa. It was a true friendship.

However outside influences infiltrated, and we became girlfriend and boyfriend. Nothing changed, nothing. We were still As**** and An*****. You know, "those two." Our first kiss was a few weeks into the relationship. Sex wasn't a primary concern, actually the very first time it happened it was an accident, completely random. Fighting turned into tickling, which ensued. A few weeks later we realized we just not be a couple neither one of us were comfortable with the situation, it felt as though we were forcing ourselves to be what others wanted us to be, we were completely out of our pure characteristic.

So thank you fucked up niggas who fuck women over and believe every relationship with the opposite sex they have to dive in dick first. Thank you fucked up women who believe EVERY nigga is the same. You truly have made my life a living hell. Assholes. It seems impossible to meet a girl today who hasn't had some nigga come in their life and not fuck it up. Niggas lie and cheat and brag to they niggas like it’s a fucking awards. I can't believe none of you motherfuckers, every girl is somebody's daughter, somebody's sister, niece, granddaughter and most importantly SOON TO BE MOTHER. Imagine if all niggas treated they girl like they wanted another man to treat their mother. This world would be such a different place. Lives would be different.

I say all that to say this. I am not the norm, I come from a different cloth, and I am truly the last of a dying breed. I love one girl and one girl only, her shit is that tight Niggas, and ladies I am that weak. I now or never will need to ever backtrack into any circumstantial situation I have been in. Having my best friend visit me this weekend is as if my nigga G or Boss or Cincinnati Matty or Dre or any of them niggas visited me. We would sleep two different locations, I'd show them the night life (after I got off work) and we'd talk about my girl with whom I brag about a good 70% of our conversations. JUST AS WE DO NOW THAT MY BESTFRIEND IS HERE. There is no difference. Only difference is she has a vagina and these niggas got balls.

Sex does complicate things, that I am aware. However for us it was more of an epiphany. We came to realize that we don't have to conform to people's fucked up ideals about the male female interaction. Sex with my once girlfriend did nothing but serve as a light, it was uncomfortable-not to gross out but it felt like I was with my cousin. Just did not feel right. Regardless, the outside looking in may never understand- but point is I love C***** and no one no body and no situation no matter what the circumstance can do anything to jeopardize MY relationship. You tell them I said that. FUCK EVERYBODY else..



P.SPardon my French.

Complexity Meets Simplicity (to be cont'd)

My girl says that I'm not complex at all, however; I beg to differ. I withhold alot from the outside world that boils within. So with that being said I release:

I was born to two unlikely people who shared an alarming common history. Anthony and Myriam. My father was a college drop out and my mother- a minor. 

Anthony grew up abused and deserted. My hero no doubt but the values he learned and shared with me-I sorted, discarded most kept some. He was abandoned at birth and repeatedly throughout his youth. He found santuary at an unusual household-Grandma Graciey. She was a foster mother with whom he stayed for a few years-between there and my grandma Netty (deceased). Growing up in Brooklyn, New York was hard for him and he found an escape; basketball-he was all city. My father earned a full scholarship to Hofstra University. He once told me he had one bag to go to school; dress suit he got from HIS father (Netty's husband) and a pair of drawls (not sure on the accuracy of this).He pursued accounting and was pretty good at it, however because of pride and distractions he eventually dropped out and found his way to DC. 

My mom was the daughter of a musical prodigy and a minor. Her father was a black man whom was a minor at University of Tennessee. Her mother Jane, was a talented flute player who traveled globally. Therefore, my mother was conceived in Europe however born in Cleveland Ohio. She lived in many cities across the globe and even in the islands. (where my aunt was born) They (mom, grandmom, aunt) found their way to DC where my mom at the age of 16 was kicked out the house from her mother. Born with the gift of gab my mother at the age of 17 was a teller at Bank of America and was paying rent for her own place.

My parents two of a kind didn't mix like oil and water. These two unlikely persons met at a house party in Logan Circle at Hope and Ricky's (GOD parents). Hope and Ricky the aunt and uncle of my soon to be best friend-Jonathan. Jonathan's mother was dealing with some issues and was forced to give him up to his new parent guardians (I digress). At this time my very young aunt (14 0r 15) was dealing with a 30 something year old drug dealer-Irving. As a matter of fact my father, mother, aunt, and Irving were a social drug circle-supply and demand. Its a miracle none of us were born with defects. 

But my father and mother moved in together at 1223 Harvard Street NW the place where I'd be conceived and raised. At this point, I was only a pudge in my mother's abdomen. Towards the end of my mother's pregnancy the not so happy couple began to grow apart. My father would spend may nights away from home and from us. I was born September 4th 1987. My father lived with us for a few more months and the marriage became unbearable for him (why I don't know) so he eventually split. 

I grew up with my mother. She was poor, young and alone. She engaged into a young lifestyle often times leaving me with neighbors and family friends (thus how Jonathan and I grew close). She went to nightschool (studying civil engineering then architecture), worked and manage to date. Life as a child on Harvard Street had its highs and lows. We were a very active mother and son combination. Often times mother would load up her Eagle Tallon with me, Jonathan, and my cousin Josh (aunt Sarah and drug dealer) and go hiking, to parks, swimming and anything else. My mother was really good at disguising our misfortune. Thrice times I can remember someone breaking into our house while we laid in the bed pretending to be sleep. When my mother heard the disturbance she would tell me to get into the closet as she hid under the bed. One Halloween late night after making our neighborhood runs we (Jonathan, his cousin Raja, myself , Raja's father) were headed back home and were suddenly caught in a shootout between two racing cars. My mother always stressed the importance of education to me throughout it all though. 

Upon my mother's graduation she was accepted to Grad School in UNC-Chapel Hill. Relocation was the topic but was soon dismissed as I was then put on the backburner. I was pushed to many people but no one would agree to watch me long term. A couple summers in NYC, and some in New Carrolton (Josh) but eventually my father and my new mother would agree to take me. One disturbing memory I'll never forget and had a hard time forgiving was that when Aunt Hope dropped my mother off at the airport and Jonathan, Hope, and myself sat at the gate waiting for my mother's plane to arrive so she could depart from us. I was sobbing like never before, not knowing this would soon be a reocurring theme. I cried "momma do you have to go?" (age 7 1/2) and with little patience she replied "Yes! I have to go find my happiness!" It took me over a decade to forgive my mother for this. For as a child I felt as though it was I who stood between my mother and her happiness. 

August 1995 I officially moved in my new house- 1806 Bryant Street NE and soon had my eight birthday in which I became a big brother (9/3/1995 Amber).  I had a rough time in that household going back and forth with my previous absent father and my NEW mother whom assumed her role a little prematurely. Bitter arguments ensued, and with time I learned to appreciate them. Always feeling slighted that my sister had something I never could- a nuclear household with HER parents. But all that which have hurt, affected me I turned into steam-to power my dreams. 

Years passed by and eventually we relocated to Maryland. I had begin to grow into a problem in school and was failing horribly. My mother (present) begin to grow a very special relationship with me in which she challenged, believed and pushed me to excel in my academics. 

Today I am a senior in college a long way away from my past. My best friend and cousin whom I once looked up to now look to me for support. I grew up admiring these two as they served as older brothers to me. I used to steal Josh's clothes as I went to Petworth Elementary (now a police station) with Jonathan. I used to tell everyone he was my older brother as his stocky figure would intimidate my age group. I feel a humongous burden from every aspect of my past, my parents past and the three little sisters who look up to me and the precious future that lie before them. Josh-my one time idle has battled with some non-drug addictions, but addictions nonetheless; Jonathan has hit a ceiling in which he can't elevate-finding himself trapped.

I know everyone has a story, and in no way do I use mine as a crutch. I just wrote this more so to get this off my chest. This is my life with major excerpts of course, but nonetheless-my life. It has shaped a lot of positive and negative aspects in my life and has ultimately made me STRONGER.