i've written about men on this blog before - what i love about them, why i like being around them... but no matter how heartfelt my words are, and no matter how
appropriate the words i choose are, it seems like i can never do them justice. men make me happy. some men offer you a seat and make you feel wanted. men make plans to support your efforts. men ask if you're okay and ask you if there is anything they can do. men observe the pain that women go through and do what they can to be supportive. men walk you to your car. men give the bestest hugs. men have you call them when you get in the house so they know that you're alright. i love looking into their eyes. smelling their colognes. being close to them. i love the timbre of their voices and the cadence of their speech. i dig watching them move, their stance, their walk. mmmmmm.
some time back, a poet friend of mine was saying that he doesn't date his female
poetry friends 'cause the community is just too small and the potential for feelings getting in the way of business is too high. at the time he said it, i didn't agree with him (especially since at that particular time, i was dating another poet). but with me being single now, and with time having passed, i have come around to seeing the wisdom of his words. so imagine what a drag it is to constantly come into contact with good men who are good to me, and not entertain the possibility of really getting into anyone. something about that is simply not healthy. and it's difficult. these men are handsome, intelligent, positive, engaging... all the things i claim to desire. it's crazy - i know where the good men are. yet i remain the "girl mascot," the "love-her-like-a-sister," the "homegirl." just like when i was the token sista in my all-guy high school clique. the story of my life - surrounded by the intriguing masculinity i adore, yet putting on the brave face and escorting myself home alone. i'm sure my Creator is really serious about teaching me patience. not just with my poetry friends, but also with old classmates and other male acquaintances. sometimes i ache to tell them how much i love this or that about them, but in the same way that
i hold back at the end of open mics, i hold back with men friends i admire, knowing that something i say out of agape love could be taken the wrong way.
i'm not beat for misunderstandings, or awkwardness, or reaching for the phone to call a friend only to change my mind mid-reach, 'cause some drama went down and now
the friend is an ex. it's happened to me a few times before, and i never want to lose a friend that way again. makes me wonder about the often touted idea that men and women should be friends first. ideally, sure, that seems to make sense. but when you value a friendship, taking it to another level puts that friendship in jeopardy, since sometimes the aftermath is civil and pretty, but other times -it's not. and there's no way of knowing the outcome until experience and hindsight become available to you. i'm not that much of a gambler - once bitten, twice shy. this heart shivers at the thought of love. this heart stops at the thought of heartache v. 2/3/4/5/15.0 at the hands of a friend.
they say (
they is anybody who touches on the subject) that women know if a man belongs in their friend zone or their dating zone not long after meeting him.
the universe knows
i'm not free...
there is an element of truth to that contention for me. but i am more complicated than that. i have sincerely dated men that i wasn't initially attracted to that "grew on me," or who i had initially put into the "off-limits zone." when a man's persona outshines the first impression, sometimes -
sometimes, now - his attractiveness grows, his stature grows, or the reasons for him being off-limits somehow become less prohibitive and less important. my hope, despite my longing for
him, is that it doesn't happen to me such that it results in the loss of a good friendship... paradoxically, however, my hope is that i don't deny myself happiness, 'cause i'm so worried about the politics of friendship and love and categories. it's funny i should find myself discussing this, since last night, a poet was
just talking about the paralysis that results when your mind isn't made up. i think me and
him haven't gotten together because the universe knows i'm not free enough to let myself go, as much as i hate to admit it.
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