I was over to a friend’s house enjoying a good meal and sharing some good times when the television before us flashed some interesting images.

ABC had promised America the two-hour premiere of the television show, The Bachelor. I had not followed the other shows in the series but my friend has been interested in this reality show since its inception. She tuned in every week to see which girl would win the handsome bachelor’s hand. She was enthralled with the fact that this man was able to widdle down his choices from 25 to a simple two, which would include the one he had to pick as his bride.

As the images continue to unfold, my mind started to wonder. Is this entertainment? Why would people care if a guy dates 25 or more women on the way to holy matrimony? After all men have been playing the field for years.

Then I thought deeper, why should WE care.

The “we” meaning black folk.

Should we care enough to find out if there would ever be a Black Bachelor? One virile African-American Male set to pick 25 beautiful women on his way down the isle.

In word: NO.

I told my friend of this fact and she was stunned and amazed that I would turn this into a white/black issue. My plan was to point out the absurdity of the situation.

It’s okay for a white man to be paraded around on national television while taking the pick of the litter in order to settle down with but a black man in good conscious could not.

The White Man’s THE BACHELOR, while a brother in the same situation would probably be called DA PLAYA.

Let’s face facts, no Nielsen family in Iowa, Idaho or even Los Angeles would feel comfortable with a black man having his pick of white women. There is still fear and loathing out there and that fear and loathing resides in many of the television boardrooms.

Of course we, as in black folk, don’t help matters in this situation. We make songs about women like they are interchangeable parts in our love machine.

“Let me stick my key in your ignition babe.”

Or we tell women where are minds are at from the first date.

“I don’t see nothing wrong . . . with a little bump and grind.”

Or when it comes down to walking down the isle we go there defeated.

“We ain’t getting no younger we might as well do this.”

Do you think that we will ever see black men in a positive light? Do you ever think we will see something that has the positive aspects of black love and relationships correctly indicated on stage and screen?

The probability is about as much as seeing a black quality black drama on network television and have it survive the first season.

The madness of this world is beyond words.

It was a beautiful day outside in the city of Atlanta, Georgia and two friends were about to experience for what it was worth. The temperature was a muggy 92 degrees in the shade and higher outside of it but it was held at by air conditioning inside a car that was working to full strength.

Inside the car were two friends. A man and a woman who had known each other for a long time. He was a greeting card writer for an Internet greeting card company while she held a job as a paralegal for a bigwig attorney.

They were good friends who enjoyed each other’s company for the most part.

Of course, that was until someone else had something else to say about that.

“It’s been six months, 8 days, 12 hours since you went away.”

A song floated over the radio listened by the two. It was something that of course listened to by many of the listeners of the local Atlanta radio station and touched the hearts of many.

Specifically the two persons in the car.

He spoke first: “I can’t believe that man on the radio.”

“Brian McKnight?” She said. “I love this song.”

“You would.” He responded quickly.

“Why don’t you?” She questioned him just as quickly. She was in control of the conversation as easily as she was in control of the car of which she was behind the steering wheel of.

“Because that nigga is the biggest beggar on the planet.”

“You said the same thing about Boyz II Men.”

“That’s as a group.” He said. “But this guy has them beat . . . I mean really.”
She frowned slightly. “You’re over exaggerating.”

“Am I – this song says it all: ‘It’s been six months, 8 days, 12 hours since you went away.’” He paused. “My God that song has the makings of a restraining order.”

“So you are telling me that you’ve never been in love so much that you count the moments since you and the woman that you are in love with have parted?”

The car continued to move through the highways and byways that sliced through Atlanta. They were about to go to a park on the edge of town. It was hoped that they would enjoy the moment that GOD had provided for them . . . as good friends would.

“Not to the point that all life stops.” He told her. “Women love this type of shit on the radio but in real life it doesn’t make a bit of sense. “

“Really.”

“Yes, Really.” He told her with some amount of finality. “If Brian McKnight were to call you with this stuff your next call would be to the police . . . people get shot by boyfriends who think like this.”

“Once again I think to a blowing this way out of proportion.”

“I see I’m going to have to go The Practice route on you.” He paused. “If it pleases the court: I’d like to call Brian McKnight to the stand.”

“Please tell me you haven’t stooped to delving into fantasy?” She asked him. “Now you want to play out the scenes of a television show to prove your point?”

“Just play along.” He told her. “There is a method to my madness.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “But I’d like it put on record that you are in some serious need of mental help.”

“Duly noted.” He told her. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He began. “Now Mister McKnight is it true on the night in question that you called your ex-girlfriend and asked her the following questions.”

“And what questions might those be?”

“Please don’t avoid my examination,” He said with a distinct lawyer tone. “Might I remind you that you are still under oath?”

She played the part as if it was her own. “That’s fine but I was simply calling an ex-girlfriend to tell her of my feelings for her.”

“’Do you ever think about me?’” He asked. “Is that what you asked her that night?”

“Yes.”

“’Do you ever cry yourself to sleep?’” He asked. “Another question you posed to your ex-girlfriend that night.”

“Yes.”

“’In the middle of the night when you are awake are you calling out for me?’” He asked once again quoting verbatim the lyrics of the song. “’Do you ever reminisce. . . .’”

“Objection!” She said.

“You can’t object,” He told her. “You’re the witness.”

“I’m also the defense.”

“You’re making a mockery of this courtroom.”

“This coming from a man who is putting Brian McKnight on trial.”

“Point taken.” He paused. “And your objection is?”

“You’re leading the witness,” She told him. “There is no point to your questioning.”

“I am simply trying to establish a precedence to Mister McKnight’s actions on the night in question . . . it should be known that the accused has a history of not letting women go and stalking them to the point they have know choice but to run from him or go out with him. “ He stopped his sentence for a moment and gathered more of his thoughts. “That is the nature of his songs and lyrics to lull the victim into a sense of pity so that they have no choice but to be his.” He smiled.

“I’ll grant the defense’s objection.”

His smile quickly turned into a frown. He had not expected such opposition to his argument.

“Yes I’m the judge too.” She said as she explained to him the reason for breaking protocol.

He reacted quickly and coolly. “I see I’m dealing with a stacked deck here.”

“It worked for O.J.”

“Well then, your honor you should be able to see in real life nothing is ever the same such as the lyrics that Mr. McKnight sings about.” He explained. “His formulaic lyrics are based on obvious romantic fixations and imaginations.”

“I don’t see that is the case.”

“Perhaps you are not looking at it the right way.” He paused to give her a moment to respond, when she did not he began another statement of ‘fact.’ “If a real man was to say anything to such as that to a real woman then that person is going to be accused of stalking them.” His smile grew broader. “Or as the lyric right after the one that counsel objected to earlier states: ‘I can’t believe I’m acting like this . . . I know it’s crazy . . . I still can feel your kiss.’” He paused once again. “That to me is sign of a man who is not living in the basis of his own reality.”

“Objection,” she said once again. “Mister McKnight’s sanity is not on trial here . . . obviously he is in great pain over the breakup stated in the song.” She smiled back him and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he was the one that left her and felt that he made a mistake in doing so . . . so in calling her he felt that perhaps he needed to state that if she was still feeling that way . . . he would want to have her back in his life.”

“It’s always the man who does wrong in these situations huh?”

“Have you ever heard a song from a man when a woman messes up?” She paused before breaking into a chuckle. “Oh that’s right women never do anything wrong.”

“We’ll get to that disparaging comment later.” He looked at her lovingly yet sternly and said. “Might I remind the court the transcript from the chorus of the song: ‘It’s been 6 months, 8 days, 12 hours since you went away.’” He suspended his thought for short moment then said, “That proves that she left him not the other way around.” He flashed her a smile with all of his teeth in tow. “Objection overruled.”

“You can’t be the judge on this case but I’ll allow an overrule of the objection because of its presentation.”

“Your mercy is touching.” He told her.

“As always.” She retorted.

“May I continue?”

“Yes, please.” She said while smiling. She was beginning to enjoy this little game.
He coughed then spoke again. “It seems to Mister McKnight that love is a series of moments in which – boy loses girl, boy pouts while girl goes on with her life then boy sings song to girl.” There was a devilish glint in his eye as he then told her. “The results of which sends the girl back to him because she knew in her heart she was wrong.”

“And you are saying that people don’t make mistakes and come back to the men afterward?” She asked him.

“I never have seen it happen . . . a least when the woman is the one who has bounced out of the relationship.” He told her. “Men yes. In music, movies and songs they are always the ones who come back . . . but for women . . . HELL NO!!”

“Oooo,” she said. “That is pretty sexist.”

“Sue me.” He told her. “But that is true.” He smiled. “It’s like an urban legend . . . everyone has talked about but rarely has it been seen.”

“Damn, that woman clearly did a number on you.” She told him.

“No,” he told her. “She just made me see reality.” He paused and looked out the window. “And every song that flies in the face of that I have to put in its place.”

“Well I guess we have no choice but to find Mister McKnight guilty of stalking in the first degree.” She told him as she placed a loving hand on his own. “How would you like to sentence the accused?”

“Life plus 20 years.” He told her.

She laughed but then after a few moments found out that she was the only one laughing. Her friend looked to her and flashed her a smile that was too broad to take seriously. It was as if he was hiding something behind that smile.

Pain.

Of course, she knew the pain that he was feeling.

The pain from a recent breakup that of course was one of many that left him the bitter shell of a man that he was now. She wanted to help him through this trying time but she knew enough of him as a friend to leave things alone.

He would work through as he did with so many others.

She squeezed his hand slightly in the hopes that it would convey enough to him that love was still around for the most part. Love that was not located in the songs on the radio, in the sunshine in the sky or in the birds in the trees.

No, love was not that blatant.

Love was in the softness in a person’s touch, in the smile at the end of the day and in the concern of a friends voice when it seems that the world was ending.

“She doesn’t deserve you.” She told her friend.

“I know,” He told her as he smiled. “But that still doesn’t take the sting out of it.” He sighed. “I still love her . . . even though she doesn’t deserve it I still love her.”

“Maybe you can take her to court and sue her for the love she failed to give to you.”

He chuckled slightly before he said. “Now who is in need of mental help?” He flashed her a more genuine smile soon after.

They laughed together as to old friends who shared a moment that was more real than one shared by any lover. The car continued its trek as another song came on the radio. It was Donnell Jones and he was signing to a woman that he knew for a long time but wanted to get out of a relationship to find out “Where he wanted to be.”

She liked that song as well. It was passionate, romantic and told the thoughts and feelings about a man who had mixed feelings between what he wanted and what the world presented to him.

It seemed easy to ascertain, the couple could have been going through problems . . . she on the other hand could be feeling the same way. After all they had known each other since “their teenage years,” so it was plausible that they were bored with each other.

Perhaps they needed to be apart for a while before they could know if they were to be together.

However, she though about her friend and the comment that he made earlier. If she put the song in the context of “real life,” if she was the woman on the other end of that song would she just sit there and let a man break up with her, go out and look for other women in order to see if he wanted to be with her.

She found herself saying NO. What self-respecting woman would let herself wait for a man as he does whatever he wanted to in order to do the right thing.

She would have kicked him to the curb a long time ago. She would have been a woman and told him to go to hell. If He did not want her in the situation that they were end for as long as they knew each other then she would do without him.

She could do bad by herself.

With that in mind, she found herself reaching for the radio. Seconds later she turned it off.

“What did you do that for?” He said.

“All of a sudden,” she told him “I’m not in the mood to listen to the radio.” She sighed.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know what you mean . . . it just doesn’t seem to make sense anymore.”

“Nothing does,” she told him. “Nothing does.”

I hate her.

I hate her so much that I have to ask myself why.

Could it be because of the fact that she is so happy? Could it be because of the fact that her dreams have come true? Could it be because of the fact that she has moved on with her life?

I pondered many of those questions but I truly know the answer on why I hate her.

I’m upset because I don’t want to hold on to a woman who is clearly getting on her own life.

She is the person I am truly angry with. And because of that....

My Anger slowly becomes Ire....

That Ire becomes Wrath....

Furthermore the Wrath is turned to Passion....

Intense Passion is continually transformed to Emotion....

That Emotion is fueled by Desire....

And Desire for all intensive purposes is Love.

No matter how much I try to deny it, my anger towards my ex-girl is based in love.

I’m still in love with her.

I know that is a stretch but I still get that feeling every time she calls or every time I see her I feel my skin jump in that erotic anticipation that happened so many times before.

She would ask me to do a favor for her and I would nearly leap at the chance to please her and make her happy. She gives me that smile and tells me over and over again that she can’t live without me as a friend in her life.

Then I get angry.

She never sees it but I literally seethe undercover as she goes back to her picture perfect life with the boyfriend who is supposed to give her the world. I’m not supposed to save her but I always want to.

I rush to pick up the pieces whenever he screws up. Many times she has shed tears when he hasn’t come home when he has supposed to or able to help her pay the rent. And like the Calvary I always come to her rescue.

Because I’m still in love with her.

Which makes things difficult because with everything that I do for her I feel like a complete fool. I feel more and more angry because I help her become a better girlfriend for a man who I feel is so beneath me.

Last year we were living with each other and trying to plan for a future together but now in the span of six months she went from “you’re the only man for me” to “I met my soul mate and he’s not you.”

How is it that I’m still suffering with this pain in my heart yet she is acting like WE never happened? Did she not feel the same thing when we parted, did she not believe that the decision to breakup with a mutual one because we wanted to remain friends rather than enemies.

I know that this sounds as if I’m just hanging on to something that is long dead. However I always have hope … hope that says that I’m going to make it through this and move on but don’t want to be the person that leaves her behind.

So, I’m working on this to get rid of this feeling. They are moving in with each other by the end of the week and she still says, “I don’t want to lose you as a friend because I can’t make it through this relationship without you.”

It makes my heart melt when she tells me that. I’ve erased her number from every device I have available but I can’t move myself away from her as a whole. I’m too weak to leave her behind but too strong not to stay.

I know this will pass. It had with Tammy, Kim and Tasha. I’m just too impatient to see the end of this road because as always the road traveled is filled with obstacles I no longer want to deal with.

I hate her … I hate her so much that I scare myself.

I love her … I love her so much that I scare myself.

“It’s going to get better,” I tell myself. And frankly by saying that over and over again is the only way I can get those thoughts out of my head. They have to get out of my head because if I keep this up … she wins.

I miss the “Check The” Box.

For those of us who didn’t have that moment in elementary-high school, let me break it down.

You’re a girl/guy who gets a note from another guy/girl who finds you attractive. They send you a note telling you of their intentions and always the letter usually contains the following question.

“Do you like me? Check the Box”

The boxes of course had three questions: Yes, No, Maybe.

Back then it was simple. Someone liked you they sent information to you through a note and you sent it back through another note.

Yes, No, Maybe.

It was all simple back then. Of course “like” was as fleeting as the seasons but for the moment ... you knew. You knew how someone felt about you and sometimes that led to something as complicated as a “Saved By The Bell” Plot.

Now it’s about getting to know someone, dating someone, finding out their flaws and quirks and IF you finally decide to sleep with that person you have to deal with more issues than you did before.

Funny thing about being an adult ... the older you get the more complex your problems become. It’s no longer cool to send out that note and hope for something simple as Yes,
No, Maybe.

Now you have to worry if, he/she’s compatible, not crazy, doesn’t have issues from the last relationship, not a stalker, a momma boy/daddy’s girl, etc, etc., etc. And lets not forget that the fact that people lie ... sometimes the lies are simple (“I make X-amount of dollars) sometimes they are deadly (“I don’t sleep with men”). It has gotten to the point that it dating is no longer a pleasure but rather a Job.

Even the way men and women meet now has gone beyond the norm.

The last woman I dated I met at the supermarket (Publix to be exact) and seemingly it was simple enough but since the two years that we dated and broken up, there has been the influx of Dating Online, Speed Dating and even Internet meet and greets at large locations.

The world has expanded faster than I was able to keep up.

I have it easy compared to my friend Pamela. She’s going back into the dating world after breaking up with her boyfriend of 12 years. TWELVE YEARS. The last time that she was in the loop was 1992. In 1992 the following things were happening at the time:

1) The Original Dream Team (Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Scotty Pippen) won gold in Barcelona.
2) We Began our involvement in Somalia.
3) Martin Lawrence’s “Martin” premiered on the FOX network.
4) The Disney Film “Aladdin” Was number for the year.
5) The Email service known as Hotmail Wasn’t even Created yet.
6) I graduated from College at South Carolina State.
7) People weren’t downloading music over the internet.
8) Playstation 1 or 2 weren’t even invented yet.

Anyway, I was struck by the fact that life has changed so much since she dated. It’s not going to be easy for anyone because as we became adults life became more complicated.

Do I want to love again? As my previous posts have already stated I love what love means for me. It makes me feel good. It gives me what is warm and fuzzy inside and when I don’t have this I feel worse that I did before.

So do I want to be in a relationship again? Again I know what I want. I work better as duo rather than a solo and relationships always seem to bring out the best in me.

However I know what comes with relationships … the hurt, the pain, the abandonment of the other person always leaving me for someone better. I can’t see myself letting someone in my life, rummaging around in there then feeling empty when they bounce when I’ve built them up or solved their problems.

It would be safer for me to stay alone. Alone I can’t be hurt and no one gets claim of a heart that has been damaged so many times before.

Of course we all know it’s not as simple as that. It’s not as simple as it was when we were younger. Back then when our crushes ended we simply focused on someone else that we met at the cafeteria or at recess that day. Crushes never last longer than the school year and for the most part they never hurt as bad as I feel now.

Love … do I still want it. Yes.
Love … will I run away from it if it comes my way. No.
Love … will I trust a woman long enough to give it to me. Maybe.

So the questions still remain and I’m left with the nostalgic wish that life was as easy as it was when I was younger. Because it was much easier to get over heartbreak when you knew where the future was headed.

You knew where things stood when you were feeling it for someone.

Yes. No. Maybe.

You knew how life was going to be with that person when you were dating.

Yes. No. Maybe.

You knew if you were the passion was going with that person.

Yes. No. Maybe.

Will I get over my ex-girlfriend and finally move on? Yes? No? Maybe?

I can’t answer that because the pain is too great.

The feelings have stumbled out of that box that you have buried deep in your heart. It is not the easiest thing to do to get them under control but here they are bouncing around going from this place to that place making your life a confusing mess.

How did they get out into wide, wide open? What was the key that freed them from their confines?

The only key available: Hope.

They say that hope springs eternal ... what they should say is that hope springs the heart aflutter. When you love someone and they give you that little bit of something that means a future or the fact that your dreams will finally come through, you feel as if you could walk on air.

Hope along with faith can move mountains ... which is a good thing. Unfortunately, the bad thing is that hope can also cause you to feel like tearing your own heart out when things end up going the opposite way. It's like loading a bullet wrong in a gun. The result will get you more than you bargained with hurt and pain the beneficiaries.

However, there are some of us that feel that hope for something that is hopeless ... faith for something that we should no longer believe in.

It's all logical. Using logic, you could always see the signs ... and believe what the facts are.

Unfortunately, the heart is not a computer that you can feed raw data and expect to get an answer to a number of life's probing questions. No, any information the brain processes is going to simply be transformed by the emotions of the heart into something that trumps anything logic can put in perspective.

Logic will tell you to leave that person because of their flaws ... the heart will tell you that love is blind.

Logic will tell you protect yourself from harm ... the heart will tell you that you can't love without risk.

Logic will tell you what's wrong with a person ... the heart will always tell you what's right with them.

Therefore, what does this all mean ... what does it say for some of us who still believe in the “happy ending” or the fact that “love concurs all.” It means that no matter what they say to hurt you, no matter what they do that causes you pain you still look for that special moment. That moment that tells you that the emotions that are making you and emotional basket case are for real and what you want is worth fighting for.

Which leads to Hope.

Which strengthens faith.

Which fuels love.

Which makes all things possible.

So I guess I'm still that fool for love ... as long as faith burns in my soul and hope shines in my heart. Because quite frankly I'm too stupid to believe otherwise and too dumb not to know how to correctly translate what Logic means and what my heart does as well.

My momma always told me that, "You can follow your heart but you are going to have to use your head.”

Of course, I always countered with, “You can’t place limits on love.”

Nevertheless, being the smarter woman she quickly told me, “And love left unchecked hurts all.”

So back in the box go the feelings because you cannot have them running around. You lock them down, throw away the key and hope and pray that the one that love/hurts you never finds them.

But they always find that way … Hope is a key with many copies and can open many locks.
So you deal, and deal, and deal with the problem in the hopes that it will turn out alright and everyone wins. That of course is what we all pray ... Until the next time.

I believe in love.

That's tough for a 34 year old black man to say.

After years of hearing how much of a problem black men are and how we never commit I am proud to say that I have stuck with the same ideology for a number of years of my life.

I believe in love.

I think it started when I was in Kindergarten and I met a beautiful chocolate honey who was all cute with her pig tails and pink dress. We held hands forever one day and I knew that she was mine.

I knew the dangers of love as I got my heart broken the next day. She was holding hands with someone else and looking at them with the same dreamy eyed stare she gave me.

That didn't sway me from my belief though.

I still believed in love.

Love became my religion and I became its most ardent supporter as I grew up into my teenage years.

I found myself dating a lot back then with a number of young women who had their own interpretation of love. Frequently I got my heart broken as many relationships that I tried to cultivate ended for one reason or another.

I chalked up these breakups as youthful indiscretion on the part of myself and the girls involved. My world was young at that time and I knew that better things were on the horizon.

I was going to meet my college sweetheart, fall in love and get married. Babies were going to come and I was going finally make my sacrifice to the church of love.

Things didn't go as I planned.

I spent several years going from woman to woman as I tried to manufacture that feeling I had been told about in many love songs and romantic comedies.

Each relationship ended without fanfare but I still believed in love.

Love was all knowing.

Love was all powerful.

Love concurred all.

I kept that feeling with me, warmed by the fact that I knew of the power that the people that left me did not. I did so because I knew what was on the horizon.

Then....

I met a woman.

Fell in love with said woman.

I knew I had finally hit the jackpot ... I was finally going to get everything I believe in. Love was going to make my dreams come true.

Of course I didn't have the instructions on how I was supposed to live with this love. It was like a drug I could not shake....

I found myself spending money on this Love.

I found myself lying to my friends about this love.

I found myself compromising my ideals for this love.

It was too much for me. So much so that when the love ended it was as if I was suddenly had my drug taken away.

I've been in rehab ever since.

Sometimes the pain is so intense that I feel like crying.

The pain is so intense that I feel like dying.

Of course I know that love wouldn't do that too me. So like a junkie on his first hit I keep waiting....and waiting....for true love to finally show up.

But what does this do for me.

I'll be talking about this love in the weeks and months I will be blogging. I need to get this love out of my system because like it or not it makes it not possible for me to love the true love of my life.

The woman I just left was not THE ONE. THE ONE is out there for me ....

I just wish she would hurry up because I'm tired of worshiping alone.