Keys Revisited Revisited:

All this time I was searching (and then not searching) for my keys, I only just recently realized that I was someone else's set.


There's someone out there that, when he writes for me (hell, when he talks to, texts, Tweets, or sends me smoke signals), it melts my heart, and softens it in ways  and in places I didn't know it was calloused and hard. When I'm having a tough go at it, he is that thing that reminds me that it won't always be so tough or so hard. In short, I've found my keys, the thing, the person, that motivates and moves me along on this journey, the person helping me to unlock all these doors that have been standing in my way.


The thing is, once you've found your keys, and you start noticing how doors seem to open easier, that you're able to start your mode of transport and go, you don't want to lose them. And that is a sentiment that Tarzan seems to struggle with. 


I wish I had new words to tell him how "there" I am with him. With anything new, there's fears of the unknown of it, the things you can't predict or plan for. Like, love. I for one wasn't looking to fall in love, at least not anymore. I was content learning and leaning on myself, finding out the things that make me who I am, and how to incorporate that into all aspects of my life. And then here he goes, like that part of a dream you're holding onto in that place between awake and asleep, that thing that makes the whole day glow and feel brighter and better than any other day. 


Yes, I'm in love, and I paint the world in pastel shades as of late, but I'd be a liar if I said I didn't have my fears of love. Such horrible things have been said and done to and by me in the name of "love" or things that masquerade as love. I've seen love turn into discontent and lose it's luster. I've seen people lose all God-given sense and their will to move forward due to love, but those aren't the things I fear.


I fear I won't be enough. I fear I'll be too much. I fear he won't like how I look, or will shut himself off once we start really learning each other. What I do not fear, though, is losing him. I don't fear that so much as I know it's always a possibility; rather I use it to my advantage to remind me to be the best chick I can be for him. I'm of the belief though, that when a heart is given to you and you treat it well, you never lose it. Can things change? Can feelings shift? Yes, but once a person has your heart, they'll always have a piece of it; even if we don't work out (which I sincerely hope we take this as far as we possibly can) I already know he's got a large piece of me.


You can't unlock a person like me, a person with trust issues and insecurities that seem to be taller than she is, and not know how amazing that is. But it seems that he doesn't realize the talent he has in that area. When things are bothering me, he's become the person I think of telling first - not so he can coddle or encourage me, but so that I can genuinely get his input and feel that calm and clarity that his voice and presence brings me.  And for that reason, among many others, is the reason he can't lose me. 


He's got me. There's no two ways about it that, as long as he wants me, I'll be there.  When I read and hear how I've already had a bit of an influence on him, that he uses my slang, or how he feels about me... There's nothing in the world quite like that. And for that very unique reason, he'll never lose this pair...this set rather, of really flattered, humbled and happy keys. 

Musing: Keys Revisited

I remember a few months ago writing about lost keys. How no matter how hard you seemed to look for that one thing that eluded you, as long as you kept searching so doggedly for it, you rarely find it. I promised myself to stop looking, to stop putting myself through the let down of hearing that familiar jingle only to find it was just pocket change or hair pins. I stopped stressing so much about the keys, and lo and behold, they ended up coming to me.

I could tell you about all the times I thought I was in love, only to find it was just infatuation mixed with a bitter, large dose of desperation. I could tell you about all the times my kind heart was taken advantage of in the name of lust masquerading as love. I could tell you about the guy who broke my heart and kick started this whole inner peace journey that I find myself steadfastly and easily walking. Or I could tell you about now, the time where love snuck up on me.

Those guys in the past put me in que to be who and how I am, and so I don't regret them, or what they've taught me. I don't regret the heartache, I don't regret the headache, as they've lead me to now, where I can show and tell how much I appreciate and admire the guy in my life. 

I'll be honest and say that I don't really know what this kind of love is. I love my parents. I love W and Soul Brotha. I love sitting in the sun with my iPod blasting Dwele G and a sketch pad. But this? I've never felt this before. It's a calmness injected with an underlying giddiness. A closeness that doesn't need to smother to be intimate. A playfulness that I've never really let anyone see in me. It's all these little things about me, not him, that have changed that make me think this is the real deal.

The main change I think is that I feel like a woman no Shania. I forget what exactly he'd said but after he said it the thought that made me smile and raise my eyebrow was "Oh, he's gonna be the man..." Not to say I've never felt like a woman before but I've always felt like a woman among dudes, guys, and boys, never a woman to a man. I've never been evenly yoked with the guys who were interested in me, or vice versa. There never seemed to be this even flowing of energy where, my energy so easily complimented theirs. I was always the one putting in work, always the one being there for them, always on a grown woman stance while they could never really be the man I needed. 

The feeling that I'm in now is shaking me to my core. I've always hoped but never really thought I would find a person who saw me as I am and not who I pretended to be, not who they wanted me to be. He knows about my insecurities and hang-ups, he knows some of the annoying things I tend to do or say, and here he goes, coming to see me and sh*t. I guess the truth is nobody ever proved to me I was worth that much; I was worth weak game, a trip to the dollar theater (that I had to pay for), but never worth getting to know really. And whereas I'm the one who emotes and expresses more with my words what and how I feel, he tends to want to show more than tell, and man is he showing me.

I suppose the reason I'm so shook is a mixture of not knowing really what being in love with a person is like as most of my tentative relationships with guys, dudes and boys tended to be one-sided. I'm shook because he's proving that he wants ME, not me in a couple months, not me in a couple years, but me right now, as I am. I'm shook because falling has never felt so right before. I'm shook because I'm entirely into this person and would really rather not mess everything up with being so high-strung. 

I can't really explain how I know this man is the one who's worth it. I can't really explain how I fell in love so quickly and easily after guarding my heart with such vicious seriousness. And the truth is, I don't have or want to explain it. I don't want to rationalize and suck the fun out of finding out if, indeed, it goes as deep as I think it does. I've found my keys, and no doubt I have a destination in mind, but who's to say it can't be fun getting there? 

Musing: Breaks

There have been few times in my life where I have taken a break; most of those "breaks" were mental as I would function just enough to live and get by before coming back into the tangled labyrinth that had become my thoughts and emotions. I remember it happening two or three times, and the breaks were never pleasant. They always hurt in the way that a healing burn hurts. The sting of past inadequacies and tribulations, short-comings and hang-ups keeping me locked in this glass jail cell, letting me see the life I wanted to live, but keeping me from doing it. I always found my way back, and always went through it and found my way out of it alone.

I've taken breaks from work and felt rejuvenated by just three days away, three days to color, draw, write and read, three days to be myself, with and by myself. I've never really let people into the part of me that goes on these breaks, the tough and the easy ones. No one has seen me that sad, and no one has seen me that happy. I'm always in the middle once I return back from "vacation," always leveled out and mellow.

But this isn't about me...Not really. Tarzan (you guys, if you follow me on Twitter know all about him) has booked his tickets for June . And I'm stoked, nervous but above all, I'm curious. You see, I'm very open about the fact I don't believe my own hype; I don't know what makes me special, I just know somewhere deep and true that I am. And so I asked him, why now, why with me, does he chose to do this seemingly out of character, impetuous thing?

I think I annoy him; my constant need to understand why and why me can get a little tiresome. I knew it was a matter of time before he'd develop a pet peeve (and it kind of makes me laugh a bit)...Digress; his answer was that he needed a break. And given my above mentioned history with breaks, I can kind of understand, but it doesn't answer the question below the question, why with me?

Is it a need to see me, live and in color to be sure I am who I say I am? Is it a feeling of trust or understanding that goes so deep without saying? Is it the need for some exotic, Southern "strange?" In my analytic mind it all seems possible, while my caught up heart is just nervous and excited, finally allowing itself to believe that this, he and I, is a real thing.

Do I understand a break? Definitely. Do I understand the need for a break now, with me? No. Maybe I'm an excuse, a diversion from the real need to get away. Maybe I'm just some girl who's in love with some guy and willing to meet half-way (kinda...). Maybe all of these things and none of them are true at the same time.

All I know is that he's coming. And I'm excited, and can't wait to take a break with him, let him see that free, wild and silly thing that I hide from most other people. I can't wait to test our dynamic of yin and yang, see how far that goes, if it cycles and morphs as we do. I can't wait to play chess with him, hold his hand while we roller skate. I can't wait to learn him. The motive may be cloudy, but the main thing, the great thing, is that even in an interlude, even in a break, we learn who we are. We grow, we find new things out, we work through the things that need our undivided attention. And the fact he's willing to share that with me? That's enough...for now.

Tes and Gratitude

Sometimes my emotions sneak up on me. I go through my days pretty much thinking and doing, and in the spare moments feeling. For awhile I haven't been really getting in my feelings, just scraping the surface.


So this morning I wake up singing Brian McKnight's "Never Felt This Way." Just woke up humming, then all out singing. And I stopped and sat for a second and really felt what it was my soul was telling me with it's song choice. My heart suddenly felt so full and big, as if was waiting on me to notice it's swelling before growing even bigger. Sitting in silence I felt entirely and with all my soul grateful.


I didn't realize my heart wasn't broken anymore. Isn't that strange? For so long I'd been walking in this life like a broken woman, like anything good coming to me had to have a catch or an underlying method to hurt me. For so long I'd been masking the brokenness behind superficial friendships and meaningless chases with dudes I really wasn't into, trying to bide my time until I could tap my little heart and not feel that throbbing pain of a bruise. I didn't take the time, I suppose, since starting this journey through and to myself to check on the heart of me to find that those stitches have since dissolved; I spent so much time on my mind and it's labyrinth on the way to understanding that the heart of me just got an occasional tap to be sure it was still there, still beating. My heart's healthy and happy, and so full of love for life...it's a strange feeling


And in feeling that I felt gripped with joy and gratitude to a higher power. Because I couldn't have done all this by myself. I'm not religious, but I woke up thanking God. Not only for what I've acquired by myself through what he's given me, but for the people he's put in my life, for the opportunities he's given me and for, above all, the ability to see the gift that each one of those things are. My parents, my friends, Tarzan, and this moment in my life where I feel like I can finally look my happiness in the face and not look behind my shoulder to see if something bad is sneaking up on me are all really big gifts. 


Gratitude is a big thing, and a thing I don't think a lot of us actually feel. I think we feel thankful for a couple things but get so bogged down in the bad things, in the things we wish we could change but can't, the things that still hurt that we forget to be humbled by the really awesome things we do and have. I know I'm guilty of it, and so when gratitude snuck up on me in addition to all these other happy emotions no lie, I cried (Remember when I had said that too many emotions, good or bad and I bawl? Oooh chile, I ain't lie).  


But unlike so many of the tears I've shed in the past couple years, these didn't hurt. These didn't sting and weren't bitter. I felt happy and humbled and just...joyous. I smiled through each and every tear and just felt grateful for every thing that I've got, even for the things I don't have. Family, friends, falling in love...God really snuck up on me with it all today. And even for that I'm grateful. Feel a little like a punk for admitting I cried, but definitely grateful for the feelings that brought it about. 


Be grateful you guys. Every thing you have that enriches you is a gift. Every thing you don't have that weighs others down, is a gift. Everything you are and everything you are not is a gift. 

Tes and That One Word

I wrote a short story about my day on Twitter earlier but it seemed lacking in so much that I had to just come here and put it all in perspective.

I was taught by my father's mother that as a lady I didn't work on cars. I wanted to mind you, but I just never learned because ladies, as set in stone by my Nana, didn't do those sorts of things. So it happens that I'm 21 years old and barely know where the oil goes. Instead, my grandmother taught me that as a lady, a cunning one at that, I could coerce more knowledgeable people to help me and so far she's been right.

Tonight my car's oil light went on. I'm not surprised; Amber (that's the car's name) has a leak in the oil gasket that's getting a lot of blowback to the rest of her under carriage. It'll take approximately seven fifty to fix. I know this about Amber already. But if I have the hood up? Nobody knows that, as my face is a constant state of confusion.

So it happened tonight that a very tall, chocolatey man steps down from his Range Rover to help me and my little hoopty. I explained what I thought was going on and he proceeded to take the oil from my hand and put it in the car while I went to buy another bottle. Once those were figured out he then checked my lights, my under carriage, my brake fluid and let me know I had an oil leak. To which I replied "No? Really? That's such a shame..."

After it was all done I thanked him ever so much and started to get in my car when I saw him writing something down. Slipping his number in my hand, he gave me a giant smile and told me if I needed anything to call him; I smiled and said a polite 'thank you' and let him drive away first. All ten digits; his name was Thomas . And then I remembered something.

The guy I'm into, his name, starts with a T too. And he's taller than this Thomas dude. Probably with worse eyesight, but just thinking about him made me remember that this dude here? Couldn't compare. Sure, Thomas was sweet enough to help me with my car, and that's a lovely thing not a lot of dudes do for women anymore. But...he's not it for me.

Awhile ago, that would've been it. I would've been all over poor Thomas before his lights fully disappeared around the corner. But now? That number felt foreign in my hand, like someone had handed me a Martian monkey wrench and said "Do something." The guy I'm into means something to me to the point where this "potential" somebody? Doesn't measure up to what I feel for him right now. That's odd for me.

I'm scared of what that means for me. Does that mean me and this dude, Tarzan, are exclusive in my mind? And what are the implications of that? When I'm literally throwing ten digits of an attractive ass dude to the wind, where in my past I would've kept them as at least an option what's that really saying about who and where I am now?

I'll tell you. I'm not the same girl who was running after attention from men who I didn't care for. I'm not the same girl who's rushing to be someone to someone else. I'm just a girl who's fallen in love with a guy. Am I still insecure? Very. Am I still working harder to be confident? Definitely. But now that there's this calmness in my spirit from knowing that someone, somewhere thinks something of me to wait on me to get there? Nobody's worth throwing that away for.

The romantic in me is all out and vulnerable. Be gentle, ya'll >.<

Tes Does Not Like Waiting

I forget what I was dreaming about, or if I was dreaming at all. All I remember is a phrase repeating in my head over and over in my state of unconsciousness until it got so loud and big and full I couldn't sleep any more until I wrote it down. And so, in the middle of the night, in the dark with no glasses on I found a piece of paper, a pen and wrote a love poem. I hadn't written a love poem with someone in mind in so long it took me a while after laying back down to calm down that giddiness with not only writing, but with the feeling of writing for someone after so long with no one to really write for.

You see, I used to write love poems to get the lust out of me. Looking at me you wouldn't think I'm that kind of girl, but I totally can be. It's never something I talk about or that too many people know about me, as I tend to, when I like someone initially, side-step every innuendo and double entendre until it literally hurts to do so anymore and even then, I'll only slip in one or two before I rein in that piece of me and replace it with a gentler, sweeter part of me, something a little easier to handle. So the conundrum becomes denying a part of me it's time to shine until the right time. And to me, there's never a really right time for me to let that part of me out on someone.

You see, this guy I'm into, he's noticed it a little bit. Okay, maybe more than a little bit, but I'm not sure if he knows how much of it there actually is. And there's so much because there's never been someone like him in my life who has pretty much all there is to have to excite me; other guys have bits and pieces, maybe something quirky about them I'm into but they never made me feel anything one way or another. So all this pent up sensuality that's had nothing to do but stew and mold itself to my creative mind is finally thinking 'Maybe this one...?'

I'm not going to say it's just a sex thing, (because with me and my mind it's never just a "one function" sort of thought) but an overall want to be in this person's presence. To hold this person's hand. Lay across this person and watch tv. Kiss this person. It's the physical that I miss so much because it's the only thing I can't have right this moment. Everything else is lining up fine; we're getting to know each other and getting real comfortable with each other, albeit we haven't necessarily had a fight yet (which, I'm not sure why he's waiting for...) but regardless of the distance we're learning each other. Which is dope.

But sometimes a girl wants to be held at night. Sometimes a girl wants to snuggle up, or wrestle. Sometimes a girl wants that physical, palm to palm sort of closeness to mimic the closeness she already feels in her heart with a person. And that's where I'm at right now; craving the closeness. And like with a lot of the things I've been feeling lately, I'm thinking I'm not the only one.

The fact I've managed to tastefully say everything I've wanted to say is a feat in and of itself and at this point I think I can leave it as it is.

So what's a girl to do when she's missing something so trivially vital, something that most couples tend to neglect or not appreciate? Is there anyway to get over it or is it just a really mean waiting game?

Tes Gets Jealous Easy

I am messy. The two rooms that are my responsibility have clothes everywhere, maybe a couple empty containers of God knows what and hair paraphernalia literally everywhere. I start off this way to say, I'm not perfect, as much as people may peg me as such, or as much as I'd like to be.

I'm also easily jealous, especially if I'm not sure of my standing with people. I learned  acknowledged this earlier in my college life where I was in the running to be this guy's potential girlfriend; he was a flirt and almost no girl was off limits. As such, I became really insecure; was I not enough for him? I wore make-up and sexed up my look, I dumbed myself down and acted a little more like those girls he was into, but yet it was like he was still searching for the next best thing, not realizing (or maybe realizing and not caring that) he had a girl who would care, love, and be there for him all in me.

It took me two years to fully get over that guy. I think it was because I wanted it so badly and it just ending up not holding, but what I never got over was that irrational jealousy when people I genuinely care about are involved. I wish I could get over it, as life would be so much sweeter for me that way.

Jealousy for me doesn't feel like "look at that b*tch, over there eating crackers like she owns the place;" jealousy grips my heart like a very vague but very biting fear. It's never just towards women on the street; if a woman's doing her thing (and doing it well) I'm the last person to hate on that. But if there's a guy involved I've been known to get a little vicious.

I mention it today tonight because there's this guy I'm interested in (not sure if you noticed...) and I fell asleep for a few hours to find some new broad all up and through his Twitter. Now, for most women I'm not sure if that would be a problem but for me? Oh, my aching little heart went all tight in my chest and I kind of wanted to ruin her life just a little...

But I took a step back (and a deep breath) and assessed not only the situation but myself. I found I was feeling this way because I, despite my cool demeanor about where he and I are going, am still unsure; he likes to credit me as being the level-headed, patient one, and this is true but not when I get all jealous. At that point,  nothing else matters but removing that source of jealousy from the picture all together. And...that's wrong; I shouldn't have to start removing people from another person's life to make me feel better - that's childish.

Me being jealous isn't because of some random girl, it's because of me. Because I'm not confident in myself and what I have to offer, any other person moving in on my person seems threatening to me. Because I don't know what this guy sees in me, it makes it seem like any girl off the street would be able to give him something he could feel (literally and figuratively) and that scares me more than I'm willing to admit; my heart is all caught up, but what if his isn't, or he doesn't feel the same? I'm back in that boat I was two years ago, pining after someone who would never, and could never feel the same for me when I promised myself I'd never go back there.

I read once that jealousy is like drinking poison and waiting for the object you're jealous of to die, and it's  been true so far, but I've never been able to see it that way until now. All the times I was jealous in my life I'd put so much energy towards disliking, and ultimately screwing around with and hurting this other person that I neglected what doing that to them would do to me. It made me feel, in the long run, like a vindictive, petty little monster who manipulated people and their nature to get what I wanted. The sad fact of it is, in doing all of that, I never ever got what I wanted.

So after assessing all this, I calmed myself down: this guy thinks I'm one of a kind and the feeling's mutual. This guy is kind and wouldn't do something to intentionally make me feel a negative way. As for the girl? I've no idea who she is or what her intentions are or if she even has any. My overactive mind was just putting doubts in a situation where there's so much room, in my eyes, for error, trying to make me fail.

Jealousy, I think, is a product of our insecurities trying to make us back down or lose focus from the things that really matter. I really matter; I've done so much fine tuning within myself that I've become comfortable with who I am as a person but I'd be kidding myself if I said I didn't have so much room to grow. And this guy matters, because he legitimately makes my heart sing and makes me feel comfortable enough to actually be myself when I talk to him. Everything else? Well, none of that matters much unless I make it matter. And for the first time, I refuse to let something like jealousy get in the way of me being happy; I refuse to make jealousy matter.

Tes is A Little high-Strung

Okay, who am I kidding? Very high-strung. I don't remember ever not being high-strung, and even now, with me trying to grow into a better person, that sad fact still hasn't changed.


As I was getting ready to go and do errands on my day off a distinct ringtone stopped me from going out the door. I have Twitter alerts sent to my phone when I'm mentioned or a certain person posts something that could interest me. Turns out it was both; the guy I enjoy...crush... like had posted a blog. I knew I should probably get going, as the places I needed to go closed earlier that day, but I was compelled back to my laptop to read the post he'd written. And I was floored.


You see, I have a hard time believing my own hype. I don't believe I'm someone inherently special and irreplaceable. I think I'm just a normal girl with a slightly off-kilter outlook on life, love and relationships. My philosophy may be different, but in my eyes, I am not different. But to me he is, and he says I am, so what does that mean?


To know someone you're developing feelings for is in the same boat is an overwhelming feeling, especially if it's the first time you've ever encountered such a thing. Most of my life all my crushes have been totally one-sided, with me pouring out my little romantic poems and expounding my feelings in very subtle ways which to me, at the time, were large but were never returned. I'm prone to being a monochromatic person externally, but inside rays of different colored light streak my heart and soul like harp strings, each one different and unique, playing a different note that adds up to the song of my being. And after reading what he said, all those emotions shot out of me.


On the one hand I was heady than a motherf*cker and happy that for once a guy actually understood what I was saying and could articulate it back to me. Then all these fears and doubts started creeping in. What if I get bored? Or what if he does? What if at the end of all these we just end up being nothing to each other? But the one that kept repeating, kept confusing me and making me doubt myself is "Why me?"


Personally, I think this dude is probably the dopest thing since...Pete Rock and C.L Smooth's "T.R.O.Y" and for him to think of me so highly makes me all...high-strung. It warms my little heart something fierce and makes me sing (internally and externally) to think that he digs me. Like legit, I've been singing "Sweet Thing" for days now. Digress. In knowing that a person I think is so cool thinks I'm so cool kind of puts my growth to the test.


I'm still wondering why. Why would he like me? I don't do or say much anything special. I try not to be overly tempting or flirty (which is really hard) or move too fast to the point he has yet to hear my voice. So how could he, why would he, like some nobody from Podunk, Texas? Someone who he's yet to hear in stereo? Someone he's yet to hold hands with (although, if I'm being honest, that would make my year)?


And then I convinced myself to stop wondering, to stop worrying; it doesn't really matter much why or how but just that he does. I mean, he wrote for me. Nobody's ever done that for me. And he's trying to get to know me as a person, where nobody's ever ventured and that's all I've ever wanted anyone to try to do with me.


So who cares why? Who cares if, months from now, he may forget me or I may forget him (though I really doubt I would)? Who can really say what's going to happen tomorrow, or next week? Right now? The good that I feel is enough. More than enough. And us being so similar, I hope he knows all that for himself as well. I hope he knows that if I'm being distant, it's just my way of not trying to crowd. If I'm being shy, it's just that he makes me nervous, not anything necessarily he's done. I hope he knows that he's a reason for me smiling and singing so. And I hope for now, that's enough for him too.

Tes has a Crush

I've had a few crushes in my lifetime enough to know myself when I get one. It starts off with denial; no, of course I don't like them, they're just funny and smart, and cute and witty and whatever else. Soon enough though I ease into full on teenage girl mode and just start picturing us together running through meadows of knee-high grass and kissing...okay, no, not really, but you get the point. After the romantical mind space I start freaking out; "do they like me back? Do they know I like them? Can they tell? Should I dress up more often? Flirt more? I have no idea what I'm doing and he totally knows..."

I haven't had a crush in awhile. Admittedly, awhile back I tried to make myself like these guys I worked with because I was thoroughly convinced if I didn't have a boyfriend by February that I would die of embarrassment. Truthfully? I liked them, but I didn't have any particular feeling towards them. I felt like I needed  to be with one of them to validate myself. As you can see, I've grown a lot in a really short amount of time since then. Can't explain why, but now I know better; liking someone can't be coerced, forced or pushed - you either do or you don't. Funny how now that I do seem to have a crush on someone new, one of them seems to be sweating me more.

I digress. Did you read that? I've got a crush on someone. And I'm feeling either really ambivalent about it or really geeked, depending on when you ask me. 

The conundrum is that he is literally states away. I can't win for losing, swear to God...

Now, relationships for me are deep things. I never enter into one without considering where they could head and if that person is someone who would bring just as much joy to me as I feel I would bring to them. And the man would bring joy alright - buckets of it. I'm just not sure if I'm cut out for a relationship, as I've never had much practice, and admittedly the first go 'round should be something a little less tricky/sticky than a long distance one, but you want what you want right? 

You see, once upon a time, I lived my whole life virtually. Literally woke up, went to school, went to my after school job, and then came home and went chat room surfing. In the three or four years (yes you read that right, and yes, looking back I'm entirely ashamed) that I lived that way I had a few relationships with the guys who found their way into the mix. Truthfully, I just was lonely and too scared to venture out in the real world to face true, biting rejection. As a cartoon, any rejection you get doesn't sting as you're not real there, and neither are they. And one day, I just stopped.

I know now the reason why, but back then it was inexplicable why all of a sudden I had no desire for these guys who desired after me. It was lust on their part, pure and simple, and me being lost and muddled in the brain I wanted to be loved in any way I could find and found myself mixing the two in a world in which the rules of attraction didn't matter. I didn't like those guys, but they liked me and that was all I needed. But they didn't like me, rather the things I did, pieces that I'd created to mimic what I thought their desires were. And they were shallow, so it wasn't that hard. I got bored with being lusted after and not loved, read but not understood. And so I quit.

Now this guy comes along, years and years (okay, four years or so) after these things ceased and...he's different. I'm different. The world is different. I don't remember where we met on these mean Internet streets but since then we're kind of in a constant state of awareness of the other. I enjoy his company; he makes me laugh and puts me up on music I'd have never found without him. We're odd, I suppose, but we're odd in a way that's so similar to the two of us it's normal. We're both Virgos, early twenties, living and working near home and smarter than smart. We love music and speak the same musical language which, I'll admit, is tough with me. A guy has to have music knowledge like my father  to even put a dent in impressing me with what he knows, and my father's taste is as vast as America and The Carpenters to DMX and Mystikal. Snobby? Yes, but we've all got things we grade people on (which is another blog for another time). 

I dig him. Seriously. At first it was like this little tickle in my tummy when he said something nice or posted a new link to some music I'd never heard. And then we had a really long talk about nothing in particular using song and song titles - that's when I acknowledged it all as more than I was willing to admit. 

Because of my shady past with innerweb guys I tend to shy away from those kinds of relationships now, even though logically I know I'm different and those guys are long gone. This guy sees me, I think. Sure, there's the flirty, sensual me that plays 'Say Yes' and 'Lay Down' by Floetry, but there's the sensitive and inquisitive me, the angry me, the me that curses like a sailor, and so far, he's seen a lot of those sides of me in minor doses. And he hasn't run yet. I don't know really how to feel about that.

I would like to explore it more, but I'm afraid of broaching the subject and being too forward. I'm a traditional girl with a liberal mouth; I talk all progressive, yes, but I still feel like a lady doesn't approach a man unless she's sure he's into her like she's into him. And I am never sure. There are times when my friends tell me that a guy liked me and I have the most confused look on my face; I guess I have a hard time with 'why' instead of just accepting it and moving on.

I digress. Again. Sorry. What I'm saying is, I wouldn't mind giving it a try. But I have a strong fear reaction, a feeling like I'll fumble the ball and no amount of Tebowing will bring back the glory. My mother, if she's reading this (and she probably is...hi Maaa!) is rolling her eyes, and saying "again, Tes?" She knows I have a tendency to get enamored with the idea of these guys and then end up forgetting them months, hell, sometimes days later. But I think Mommy knows that I've changed. I think she feels it too. If I were to go all "Laith and Christina" for this guy, I think she'd just shrug and throw up her hands and let me learn. I can't tell you how much I appreciate her for that.

In any case, I'm in between decisions. The dreaming romantic in me is a-flutter as she's had nothing to do for ages while my cynic is somewhere writing a list of why nots. But me in the middle, the me that's inert in thought? I'm enjoying what's going on. Maybe that's all I need to do; not worry about tomorrow or next week, and just be cool with a cool guy vibing with me in a way that's new and seemingly synchronized with how I've always thought it would be.

But yes. I've got a crush. Lord help me, it's the first one I've had since...awhile. I don't know what this me does when enamored with a person. But I'll sure as hell have fun finding out.