DeWayne

No, DeWayne is not some new that I'm obsessing over. He's not some dude that I'm halfways considering dating. (Thank God he's not the dude I saw last night who's so dull that I actually fell asleep while he was talking; I've told hime that he's kind of dull so he should open up.)

DeWayne passed Sunday, May 28, and he was my second cousin on my maternal grandmother's side. I still remember reuniting with him as adults after my great aunt's funeral. I was wondering how someone so attractive, well-dressed, and cool was at my great aunt's funeral. He sat diagonally across from me at the family table during the meal at the church, and my dad revealed that he was my cousin. We clicked instantly and stayed in touch with one another. It was really cool that he was such a genuine person with such a wonderful personality and gorgeous appearance (think of a caramel Tyson Beckford...with improved lips). He was one in a million, and I miss him so dearly right now. I just spoke to him two Fridays ago when he called me out of the blue. We had just spoken a week before that because I was dealing with that clown from above, and he helped me.

I have already prayed and thanked God for the year that I was blessed with knowing him. I have to pray for others, too, because I know he touched other lives. I don't know how I'll handle the funeral because I've already been weeping. Funny thing: I didn't cry this much for my older brother when he died, but me and my brother weren't really close while I was away at college. DeWayne was kind of like a big brother, but it's too late for that because he died so suddenly and unexpectedly due to kidney failure. I wish he would have told me if he needed a kidney because I would have done it quickly, but I suppose he was being himself and not burdening others with his problems. I miss him so much. Pray for the hundreds of people that I'm sure will be at his funeral.

Interesting...maybe

"School's out for the summer!" I'm no longer a teacher, and I couldn't be happier. I'm not sure what I'll be doing to make a living by September, but I'm free of the situation I was in. I'm looking forward to finding out, and I definitely want to puruse a particluar opportunity to see what happens. I think I'll eventually return to school to earn a Masters of Education so I can teach for higher pay. I can't teach 9th Graders again because I'd probably wind up on the news for some insane incident.

As for my chipped tooth friend, he's completely out of the picture. I just cut it off because some of my actions were unhealthy reactions that caused me to lose focus of what's really important in life. It's not a man. He's supposed to be a complement to your already busy life. Harold and I are done because he cannot handle me. It's that simple.

More later. I'm about to pass out.

Maybe I'm tripping and I just don't know it

I was really digging "Harold". I thought he was really digging me. How obvious it was that we were beyond right for each other but more like destined. The chemistry was more electric than anything I had ever experienced. Our kisses were always explosive, head-spinning, mind-blowing. Hell, I ignored his less than pleasant breath and his less than flawless teeth (more like tooth) because I was absolutely crazy about Harold. I had never experienced anything so intense. It even led to us sleeping together kind of quickly, but it felt so right that it couldn't be wrong. Yet, I cannot find him now.

Well, I could find him because it wasn't so hard for me to zip over there one Thursday evening for an impromptu chat. So what if I had his phone number and e-mail address which would make it easier and more cost-effective to contact him? Face to face always works wonders, and that's what I was expecting when I just dropped in on him. Long story short: we talked for 45 minutes and decided to start over as platonic friends. He promised to call me on Friday, but I couldn't answer the phone in the middle of a play, so I had to return his call later. I ain't heard from him since.

The funny part? I'm not as concerned (definitely not as crazed) as I was before last Thursday. It's on him to make anything happen between us, and if it doesn't, I'll be cool.

I know that sounds awfully ironic or even false considering that I'm writing a blog entry about him, but it's absolutely true. I was in a frenzy before Thursday's visit. Since then, pretty cool. I'm not waiting on his call because I have two other men in my life that are crazy about me, and I like both of them. It's just insane that he's the one I would like to be with moreso than the other two. It's always the ones that treat us the worst that we want the most! What's wrong with us??? And don't play like it's just women that behave that way.

Harold may have decided that I was too much of a lunatic (borderline stalker) to spend time with. Maybe. Here's what kills me about you men: If you don't want to be bothered with someone or you've lost interest in someone or whatever, why don't you just "BE A MAN" and say so? If you are not feeling that someone, just freaking say so. It makes no sense to just avoid someone when you could easily be a true man and just face the real. What's so hard in that? So someone's feelings would be hurt by the truth; it would be less painful IN THE LONG RUN than never hearing the reason or having to figure out the lies that were told. Didn't any of you ever hear that old adage, "What happens in the dark will eventually come to light"? Even if you don't tell the truth in the beginning, all lies, falsehoods, misgivings, etc will rear their ugly head in due time.

I know I probably sound bitter. I've been hurt more than once. That's the funny part! I already had a gut feeling that this guy would hurt me, but I still like him. I don't think I'll ever be able to listen to my Kem CD again without thinking about that magical night with him. *sigh*