I wasn’t going to write anymore tonight. I barley stayed awake and not babbling through the last one.
sigh
(a lovey dove feel filled sigh)
Adonis…is just that, and Adonis. He is not my physical cuppa. A short, stocky, and incredibly cute when smiling white boy. But when I see him around I can’t help but smile. Usually at our strange back and forths, but always at the thick accent of sarcasm in his speech. I find it hard to find someone with the same love and constant use of sarcasm. Oy! Ya gotta love it. I feel like a little school girl when I giggle at his goofy happy dance and utter goofballedness. He’s such a dork!
I find myself, at the sight of his car smiling thinking about past conversations and the chance at seeing the happy dance and smile.
But fuck.
This is where it gets a little depressing.
I’m neither here nor there, I’m one of those yummy chocolate dipped bananas. Since I came back home, BFE, I’ve not dated a single man. It’s been a long year and a half.
No matter if I’m in the Land or BFE I feel as if I don’t fully fit. It really is like putting an oval into a circle spot of a child’s toy. No matter how hard you try the circles just can’t accept the oval.
People in BFE seem not to be able to fully accept me. I’m not speaking of Adonis, I don’t know and haven’t tried to know either. I’ve lived 21 of my 24 years among white people. The other few were in the Land–not Africa but a lot more black people than BFE. In the 21 years I’ve lived in BFE not a single boyfriend to be spoken of. When in the Land I was beating them off, if you will pardon my punny little self. (Not really but I couldn’t resist the urge for a pun) ;) Now that I’m back in BFE I forget how beautiful and coveted I am, without strangers telling me on the street. I’m not conceited but men and women of all ages have approached me.
The significant relationships I’ve had with men (beautiful and black) have just been a little fucked. With Accra, his cousin could not get past the fact that I was an American black(ish) woman and not African. Football’s Auntie and Grandma, don’t believe that there should be mixing of the upstanding black man with anything other than an upstanding black woman.
Life is rough out there for a blackish.
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