Secrets

He has a kid.

Her name is Nadia and she's three. That's all I know right now.

Ok, I realize I have been AWOL for a long time now but I am still talking about the guy I was talking about last blog. I was kinda dating him. Kinda. It's complicated. He went home for the hols, about three weeks during which we had zero correspondance because of the sitch back home and also the fact that we were not really at that stage yet. He came back right before New Years but he was sick so I didn't see him till after.

He came over a few times. We just hung out. Nothing bad. Then this past Sunday he came over and was meant to stay for half an hour. He stayed for a few hours. And it went too far. And I told him I'd rather just be friends. He admitted he was not looking for a commitment anyway. Fine.

Tuesday I get an email and he tells me there is something about him he wanted to tell me before I found out on my own but that he had been afraid to tell me because he didn't know how i'd react. I asked him what, via email as our schedules are both hella busy. He was being elusive all day and into Wednesday too. Ok, seriously now. I told him I wanted to know. He sent me an email that I didn't read because I worked late and then went straight home where my internet connection is periodically dodgy. I called him. He said he was with his sister and couldn't really talk but that he'd explained in his email, Ok. So by some magic of technological accident I was able to get my internet working and checked my mail.

He said he's got a daughter. A daughter. A three year old. He's 25 this year.

Bloody hell.

I haven't talked to him since. I ignored his calls and messages yesterday and only responded via email last night. I'm upset.

I know it wasn't going to go further even before he told me but I am really upset. He let Sunday night happen knowing that he had a child he hadn't told me about. I am not blaming him for Sunday night. I deliberately let my guard down and let it happen though that still voice in my head kept shrieking at me to stop and not to stupid. I was stupid. I wasn't even.... well let's just say it wasn't worth it on my end. I had to force him to be smart about things. But last week it almost happened and it was happening for about three seconds before my brain kicked in and told me to stop him. He wasn't wearing anything then.

Bloody friggin hell.

Now he tells me he's a father. Shocked? I shouldn't be. He is rather keen when it comes to sex. I am always the restraint and I am also always the one who points out that he needs to be smart about it if he is going to. But I let myself down Sunday. He was protected but still. I'm not on anything.

Thats really not the point here. He has a kid. A child. Another human being that has his blood and genes and calls him daddy I imagine. I don't even know where she is. I dunno anything because I refused to talk to him yesterday. I was a bit shellshocked to be honest.

Why wouldn't he tell me? Why? And why would he allow us to go that far and still not have warned me?

I am not upset he has a kid. I am not judging him for it. I understand that things happen, mistakes are made and you learn to deal. I am not condemning him having a child. I am upset that he failed to mention any of that upfront. He didn't tell me. HE DIDN'T TELL ME HE HAD A BLOODY CHILD. I'm angry at him for that.

Am I wrong to be? Am I overreacting here? I am sick with dread and anxiety and worry. I don't think I'm in "trouble" but the paranoia is bloody overwhelming you know? I am irregular and haven't seen aunt flo for months and that worries me even further. Why do I attract these people? My new year's resolution has gone down the loo hasn't it? I did it. I can't blame anyone else for my weakness. But my God.

Am I wrong for being angry with him? Is it really my business to know that about him considering we were not together? I am angry and angry and even more angry. My stomach is in knots and my head aches.

He has a child dammit. A child.

Long time no blog...

I haven't been on here in a span and I don't like that.

I dunno what has happened since I last wrote. Oh yes I do. Him.

Obsessing about boys is just so usless. Such a blinking waste of buggery time you know?

We have been getting a little closer and closer. But I really should go with my initial instincts about things. I am just not that into him. He is just temporarily filling some vacum in me but he isn't for me. He's just gone to Zim for the hols. Thank goodness. I don't think I could have kept up the ficade any longer. Well, actually, that is the problem isn't it? I would probably have kept it going until some valid excuse presented itself. Not very proactive I realize. But whatev.

I think I wanna just be friends. He is not touching me on the inside. My feelings towards him are flat. And it's not fair to keep this going.

Remember a while back I posted on a portion in the book Eleven Nimutes about how the main character met a man and it was like when a rock is thrown into a pond. The ripples extend out and inevitably touch a duck and that symbolizes connections and how some people are placed in our lives to touch us that way? The post was "Once Upon A Girl" and made more sense than this paragraph.

I met a man that looked into me today. I was wondering if this was one of those encounters with angels or something that get you to think about yourself and really look hard into yourself. But last time I checked angels didn't come from Kenya. Lol. No, I don't think he was angelic, but he was a random man who touched my life today.

I was sitting outside on a park bench basking in the sun like a lizard. I was cold and the sun felt so good on my face. I was slumped down on the bench and had my eyes shut. For some reason as he passed me I happened to slit my eyes open and he was staring at me as he walked past me. He stopped and asked me if I was ok. I said yes, I'm fine. He asked if I was Kenyan. Incidentally, two other people have asked me that this week. I suppose I look Kenyan this week or something. I don't mind. Kenyans are beautiful and very much like Zimbabweans. I was happy to be assured that i do indeed look African. I worry that I pass for American what with my accent and all. Nothing wrong with being American but sometimes you want to look like who you are you know? I dunno if that makes any sense. I digress.

I asked him if I looked particularly Kenyan. He said yes but that I could pass for a Zimbabwean. Good to know, lol. And there began a twenty minute conversation unlike any I have had in a while. We talked about relationships. Not in the cliche way everybody does with strangers.

It was very sociological our conversation. Very intellectual. I haven't had that in a while. It inspired some introspection on my part. He got me thinking about the meanings we place on relationships and sex and innocence. He said he could tell I was innocent. I have to admit shamefacedly that i lied a little. I told him i had never had sexual relations. I am still getting used to the fact that that is not true anymore. It's been a year and still it haunts me because it changed me yet I forget all the time until I think about it and it hits me once again. I am no longer innocent. But he said he could tell I was. He said there was a beautiful simplicity about me.

I usually brush off such comments form men but with him ther was no alterior motive. This is not just because he is engaged to be married and clearly smitten with his fiance. It isn't because he is a Christian man from Africa who values love and respects relationships. I just felt secure when he said that to me that he wasn't having me on. He was sincere and I felt it. And it shocked me.

I was flattered but at the same time I am not really innocent. I dunno if his perception of me was really just based on what I told him or if he really saw into me the way his eyes insinuated, I felt very open. And he said that he thought I was intelligent. I was not basking in the compliments, I was looking into me and analyzing my thoughts on the things we spoke of.

He was an interesting man. An African who I instantly connected with, though we had no business ever meeting each other. And the kicker was, I didn't feel the way I feel when I meet other men. I didn't feel the need to impress or flirt or be coy. I didn't feel the need to turn on the attraction feature in my brain. I was at ease. I enjoyed his words, not the possibility of there being somehting there. I wanted to speak to him more so we could be friends. I was intrigued by this individual who touched my life today.

How many times do you meet people with beautiful spirits. You don't know them from Adam but you can see that they have soul. That it will not be a fickle connection but it'll run deep, no matter how long your encounter or friendship lasts. Even if I never see him again, I hope that I am not that easily amused that this meeting is not something I overvalued on a whim. I would like to think I am right about this one. I have been wrong a lot when it comes to people, friends and guys. I have been wrong a whole lot. But can't I be right this time? Can't I connect with another spirit for pure reasons. No strings attached? Is that asking too much?

The world is so busy right now and no one takes the time anymore to value simple encounters and to have no expectations from people. He said that today. He said people are so selfish and so hardened these days. They are. I catch myself being hardened at times myself. I was a little detached before last October. Admittedly I was a little high and mighty and needed to be brought down a notch but I let myself fall a few more rungs down the ladder than was necessary. I dwelled and dwelled and still allow old ghosts to haunt me.

I need to step back and wait for the one. I have lowered my expectations because I thought that is what I needed to do. I thought that was what I deserved. I made mistakes but I don't deserve any less than what was intended for me. I still deserve real love. A real connection. A beautiful spirit to recognize the beauty in my spirit. To soften the bits of me that have been hardened. And realizing that today after talking to a stranger makes me happy. And optimistic.

Am I naive? Do I give life and humans too much credit?

Uh Oh Not bloody again

So Jackson came over last night. We hung out, watched Saturday Night Live reruns and chatted about nothing in particular. It was cool, no big deal right?

With me it's always a bloody big deal. Things got out of control somehow. What happens to me honestly? I mean it's like my brain shuts down and everything I planned not to say or do gets lost in the blooming wind. No I did not sleep with him if that's what you're thinking. Nothing like that. But I was planning on making this a friendship and now I'm scribbled. I don't want this going on and becoming complicated so I am debating on whether I should cut him off or not. That seems to always be my remedy to uncomfortable situations with men. I need to actually come up with a functional strategy and stop running because I'll never learn anything this way.

He phoned me today and he sent me two messages. I ignored him. I didn't pick up my phone and didn't reply him. Bollucks the dozey cow.

I am being completely dizzy about this whole dating thing. It's not working out because I don't know what the fridge I am doing. Ever. I almost slept with him. Almost. Not good. Not good at all. You are flipping celibate remember? Dizzy cow.

I hate this. I can't keep running from relations with men because I keep saying I'm not ready, I'm not mature and I need to grow but then when a man does appear in my life, I do the same blasted things over and over again and lose it and then retreat back into my "I'd rather be single" mode so I can ,live in a relationship-proof cave by myself brooding on my shortcomings as an individual only to emerge from that cave on the arm of whatever new man has flown under the radar and go mad and lose my friggin mind and be lost once again..

Jackson was meant to go away. I know that soudns juvenile but I was kind of hoping to stumble upon a big bag of fairy dust and alaka-zula-mentakabula-bibbity-bobbity shoo him away so I wouldn't have any drama. I figured, he has a horrible name, seems a little non-adventurous for my tastes and is not right for me at all. But then I flirt a lot and men seem confused by this and they assume things which they are corrrect in assuming because there is no method to the madness that is my flirting. And then I get stuffed because I am wandering around in circles and making silly decisions and then kickeng myself in the arse for being so dizzy. Damn it.

Ok. Steady on. I need a grip. Why does this happen to me everytime? EVERYTIME. EVERY BLOODY WANKING TIME DAMN IT! What is wrong with me, why can't I be normal? I don't want Jackson. How do I know? I don't but I don't trust myself around him or any other man. I let things get out of hand and self control goes out the bloody window and consequences are reflected on while they are being suffered instead of before. I shut down and it's almost as if someone else takes over my body and mind and I am just watching, paralyzed and unable to stop myself from saying dumb things and doing dumber things.

I need God. That's really all it boils down to. I need God and I need Him right this minute because this whole life thing is falling apart and my relationship woes are only the manifestation of the state of my entire being right now. I'm a mess. Pure and simple.

Work in Progress.

Weekend updates

I had a date late last night with the guy with the horrid name. He is cute. What's in a name anway right? That is what I trying to convince myself. I am not so shallow that his name is plaguing my dreams, but it is just something I am trying to work around. I have to find a nickname that makes sense to his name. His last name is quite shocking too so that's no good.

I digress. We went to see Borat. It was funny but unexpectedly graphic. It was shocking. He liked it though which is good cuz I picked it. We went to the 11:45 showing. Afterwards we went back to my apartment and watched TV and chatted for a bit. It was bitingly cold last night so his hands were freezing and I took one of his hands as we sat on the couch and put both of mine around his to warm him up. His thumb was stroking my hand. It was endearing. I don't usually like anyone holding my hand. Then he had his arm around my waist and was stroking my side with his thumb.

Then he left and I went to bed.

Idon't know. I hate his name, I hate his shoes and I barely know him. But he's cute and seems really sweet. I dunno. He's also from Zim too. So we have a lot more in common than me and those American boys I experimented with. But that is not to say he is any better than them. I don't know him yet. I dunno how he gets on my nerves yet. I dunno anything about him really. Well, i know a bit, what i weedled out of him through chatting.

Don't think so hard. It was only one date. He called me after he left my place and said he had a really good time and that he liked what he saw. I winced a bit over the phone but took it as his awkward way of complimenting me. I dunno.

But i was fantasizing about D.C. all night. On purpose. So I wouldn't fantasize about him, the new guy. Let's call him Jackson for now. Why Jackson? I don't know I always thought that was a sexy name for some silly reason. So Jackson it is for now.

I didn't want to start going crazy over Jackson before we even become good friends. So I substituted with D.C. Bad idea. It is not a step forward in getting over D.C. Neither is planning on going to D.C. for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas, now that i know I can't go home for Christmas.

It's going to be the first Christmas in almost 23 years that I will not spend with my family. That'll blow. My little sis really wants me to come home for Christmas. She even offered her allowance and forfeiting going to Dubai for our annual Christmas shopping. Sweet. I am sad I will be here for Christmas. Sulking no less. Ok, i know I need to grow up. This whole becoming-an-adult-seperate-from-mum-and-dad thing was inevitable. Time I sucked it up and acted like a grown up for once.

But i want my mum and dad.

Got promoted at the paper a few weeks ago, forgot to mention. It was nice. I dunno if my promotion at my other job ever fell through, I still haven't had my evaluation to increase my pay. I feel wierd reminding them because i dunno if it was official official and don't want to sound greedy. I really need to be more like the Americans. Go-getters and no excuses.

My relationship with God is going through a phase that will not give. I am stuck in a rut where my prayer life and bible studying and church going have stagnated, with random bursts of faith every now and then. I am worried about my spirit because of my spiritual anorexia but i am forcing myself to get it together and slowly, very slowly it is getting better.

Thong guy showed up at my job again yesterday. I think he's harmless, but I have wisened up and didn't let things go out of control again.

Have an Advertising test tomorrow night, a huge feature due for class tomorrow morning and about eight stories due for the paper this week along with my huge feature for the paper. Best get to it then.

That thong, thong-thong-thong-thong

Thought I may have been developing a crush on my photog. Upon closer reflection, I'm not.

I am currently obsessed with the lovely Ms. Billi Holidae's Smoke Gets In Your Eyes and Misty. I have always been a Billie junkie but lately I listen to those two nonstop and it makes me smile. Ironically Billie herself was a junkie for real, if internet resources are to be trusted. Sad really.

So I have not managed to connect with (physically meet) this guy that my friend.... no no aquaintance has tried to set me up with. He works....all the time. ALL THE TIME. I dunno if he's just trying to avoid meeting me. I am not too stressed though. I have no rush to get to know him. Not that he's not a nice boy, I am sure he is but i don't know him and I am just too tired to get worked up over a man these days. I mean, really get worked up not just silly crushes that last for half an hour.

Guess who featured back into my life late last night? Or should I say early this morning? Peanut. or B, whichever nickname you kept up with. Mr. D.C. The one man I almost got lost in. Who never saw me as more than a passing fad. The one man I almost let into my heart but was saved from doing that. He called me last night.

I haven't spoken to him in a long time. And out of the blue he picked up his phone and called me. For no reason.

I can't say it was a very enlightening phone call. But we talked a bit. We reflected on the randomness of how we met and how we've kept in touch for over a year and a half. It's funny, we have nothing at all in common and it was a fluke that our paths crossed at all once. We have no business knowing each other and certainly no business being friends. But we are. And I think I am now in a good place about him.

Of course there is still that dull ache inside when I think of what might have been and what I gave up for him without really thinking or weighing my options. I can see now how totally wrong he was for me but still there is no closure because I never got the satisfaction of knowing he cared for me. Truly. I dunno that I need the closure but I attribute it to the ache I get once in a blue moon.

I was lighthearted and no-strings-attached with him over the phone last night. It was....

I don't really know what it was. Not special. It just was. I hope this means I am dealing with all those old ghosts that flooded my soul when I opened myself up to him. Ok, too deep.

I met a freak today. I don't normally like to use that word but I think he very well fit the description. I was minding my own business at work today when he came into the store to buy a snack. He was kinda cute but didn't make my liver quiver you know?

Anyway, apparently he has pretty eyes because he said they were green (I didn't pick up on that without my glasses) and another girl that came in the store told him he had gorgeous eyes. He was my height and light skinned and broke the ice by telling me over and over and over again how pretty he thought I was. OK, that was a little much.

He began talking about wierd things and somehow he broached the subject of the wildest things he used to want to do. One was bunjee jumping, which he chickened out on at the last minute. The other was licking a woman. That is exactly what he said. He said when he was eighteen he desperately wanted to lick a woman. Lick a woman THERE. Ya, you know where.

Disturbing as the conversation was headed, I indulged him. Simply because Sunday's are slow and strange individuals fascinate me to the utmost. He did just that. He went into depth about things my ears had no business hearing but I indulged him. Then he told me he always wanted to model in his underwear for some lucky girl. Well, technically he said special, not lucky. And he wouldn't stop talking about it. And interjecting every so often how pretty he thought I was.

I was getting off my shift and he wanted to walk me out on his way to the library. I thought it was harmelss enough. When we got outside, he said he wanted to flash me. And he did. He showed me his underwear because he said I looked very curious as to what he looked like in his undies. I would have thought it was just some silly, goofy thing had he been wearing boxers. He was wearing a Joe boxer thong.

I don't recall ever seeing anything quite so disturbing and unappealing in my life.

Moral of the story? Men should never wear thongs. Ever. Boxers should be law. And those who break the law should be hanged by their thongs.