December 31, 2022
Iknow I’ve been gone, but it’s the last day of the year. I’m drunk, and I’ve got some shit to say!
Today I felt love in more ways than one.
I went to my best friend Karma's anniversary party. She got married on the last day of the year because she believed that it was symbolic to spend the end of every year loving her husband and the beginning of each new one the same way. It’s beautiful when she puts it that way.
Karma has been married for as long as she's been old enough to legally sign the paperwork.
She and her high school sweetheart got married right after she turned eighteen, and somehow these fools are still going strong.
Watching their marriage evolve over the past decade has been such a beautiful thing to witness.
Every year, I become more convinced they accidentally unlocked a cheat code the rest of us missed.
Don’t get me wrong, she tells me at least three times in a good week that she’s ready to divorce him. But her complaints are always so lighthearted.
“Friend, this man left his work boots on my white rug.”
“Friend, can you believe your friend keeps asking me what I want to eat when he’s supposed to be the leader of the household?”
Or my favorite is her “people have died for lesser shit” series where she sends pictures to the group message of things that only a man would do.
Like using her Marni slippers as a door stopper, or when he uses the last bit of toilet paper and sets the new roll on the counter instead of in the holder.
Then, an hour later, she's posting pictures of them at brunch in coordinated outfits with the caption "My forever."
Those two are literally like a ’90s sitcom.
Because despite all her nonexistent woes, the one thing she can’t deny is that they genuinely love each other.
Not the kind that you see on social media where it’s only there until the cameras turn off. This kind is consistent and unconditional. Aside from my parents, these two are about as close to “till death do us part” as I think a couple could get.
Because, aside from being a good husband, we all liked him. He was just cool. The girls always joke that he's the fifth member of our friend group because if we're planning something, unless it’s girls-only, he always gets an open invitation.
Tonight I caught myself watching them with a smile more than once.
He'd pull her close whenever she was in arm’s reach.
She’d fix his buttons or adjust his collar as he spoke to her.
And even the way that he just held her at his waist and kissed her temple like it was muscle memory made me smile.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Because she hadn’t stopped smiling all night.
It was disgustingly adorable.
I wanted to throw my dinner roll at them.
At one point, and after a couple of tequila shots, I found myself thinking. How could I not want that? Why didn’t I feel the desire to have a man who would love me unconditionally?
The thought lasted about seven seconds. That was literally all the consideration I had to give it. Seven seconds too long. Then I laughed at myself because, babyyyy.
I would absolutely ruin that man, and it wouldn’t even be intentional. I wouldn’t wake up in the morning and think about how I could fuck up his day. I just knew myself.
The second I stopped feeling butterflies, I'd be on . At the very moment date night started to feel like grocery store runs, my intrusive thoughts would immediately tell me I needed to see what somebody in Miami was doing.
Routine and I have never gotten along. Doing the same thing day in and day out would drive me crazy. I guess people were included in that. I’ve accepted that about myself.
It’s like that perfume that you compliment someone on, and it smells amazing on them. Then you go out and buy it, only to find it doesn’t mix well with your body chemistry.
That's how I feel about marriage.
For those who get it right, it’s beautiful. It looks good on them, especially on Karma. But for me, I wouldn’t wear it well. It’d look like resentment, settling, and wondering why I committed to one man when another has already made me cum harder than he has.
Some of us aren’t meant to be the end of someone’s story. Some of us just want to be the favorite chapter. At least, that’s me right now. This version of me valued freedom and experiences with multiple people who all held very different qualities.
This is the perfect example of what I meant when I said that I could wholeheartedly celebrate love. I can admire their journey; I can scream at the top of my lungs when they enter a room. I can even bawl my eyes out when they surprised us with a vow renewal.
Then I'm going home alone, with somebody’s phone number that I met at the bar. Completely not worried about what will happen between us two years from now. Knowing they never made it that far. There were only two things I worried about when I conversed with a man:
If I liked him
If I liked him well enough to let him make me cum more than once before I blocked him.
I laugh because I talk a big game. And I know someday there may be a time when I have to swallow every letter on these pages.
My phone vibrating with Dinero's face solidified that thought.
Because the way he came into my life and demanded the space he took up had puzzled me.
I wanted to listen to him, and not just as his submissive.
But the thought of me ruining him, after he had just warmed up to the idea of being in a relationship himself, made me proceed with caution.
I kept him at arm's distance. Because I know myself and my tendency to just want something different. Still, he was determined to break down my walls. One day, I might look at someone, even if it’s not him, and be confident that they’re the only man on Earth I want to be with.
But until that day comes, I’ll continue making bad decisions that somehow become great journal entries.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
The Heaux