Over the weekend, I was invited to host a special edition of Colored Boy and Friends as part of the Bondfire Radio Audio Festival. The lovely Tasty Keish granted me one hour to put my thing down, flip it and reverse it. So, I invited my homeslice Willie Jackson, the mastermind behind Abernathy Magazine, and the lovely, travelin' ass Bayyina Black, aka The Planet Blaster, the new TOMS Global Giver and we had a good ol' Black ass time. I also read the following essay, which oozed out of me after a warm-and-fuzzy-conjuring three-hour call with an awesome Somebody.
Before reading this on Sunday, I prefaced it with, "There's some gay shit ahead, so, you know, Hoteps beware." There was a delayed laughter. It was great.
go-go-gadget: abundance.When I got back from Panama, I considered re-dating my first love. Not the ultra-wretched fling with the clueless and shameless manchild I did whatever that was with, but the man I met at 17 and aggressively dated for two years. The one who proposed during my freshmen year at Virginia Commonwealth University, only to be shot down via a barrage of hearty laughs and nigga pleases. The one who, a few years later, raised hell in my hospital room a decade ago as i lay possibly dying but certainly bloated and comatose because lupus.
I know him better than I know most people, and so it felt easy, familiar and safe. And since I had recently fled Panama to avoid hanging myself, easy, familiar and safe felt like the obvious move at the time.
We reconnected at a time when I was at my most emotionally flat. I wanted to feel normal, to feel alive, and diving into this easy familiar and safe thing felt like the right thing to do.
He was welcoming, understanding, and eager to be an Us. And while that is fantastic and sounded like peaches and sunshine, I wasn't quite ready to really take off the mask, peel back the scumbagginess and be Me as fuck, in front of someone I expect to respect and love me the next morning. Even though he understood and was down for the cause, I wasn't ready.
And so, I ran.