Chapter 1

This blog was created as an attempt to sort out the crash and burn feelings of a failed relationship. He won't talk to me, so I've decided to talk to the world. My story is not unique, so if you think you recognize yourself or someone you know, please, check your perceptions. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved.

He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he showed up on Valentine's Day, like to much good chocolate on an empty stomach. "You have beautiful eyes, and the kind of mouth a man wants to kiss. Um .....Can I give you a ride home?" Chocoholic that I am, of course I took the bait. We had some wonderful conversation during that twenty minute ride. He talked about his work as a writer, his passion for creating graphic art, he even played a music CD that he had produced. I was impressed, which is not an easy thing to do.Reluctant to part company and as a way of showing my gratitude, I invited him in for a cup of coffee. We sat in the kitchen talking for about five hours nonstop. I loved the honesty of his expression. The look of unabashed vulnerability in his eyes was intoxicating. A really nice guy, I thought. This is someone I'd like to get to know a lot better. I wasn't romantically inclined at the time. Every man I meet is not my next husband. Still he might be nice to hang out with, go to a movie, have dinner maybe. He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember wondering..... why is this attractive, well spoken man single?

Gabriel reminds me of an africanized version of the cartoon Tasmanian Devil. Broad in the shoulders, slim through the hips, a whirlwind of frenzied activity. He has asked me to proofread some of his screenplays. Impatiently, he calls me several times during the day, all week long, to find out if I'm finished. He wants to know, immediately, what's my opinion, would I buy a ticket to see it, will I help him get this work done? I laugh and agree to work for him. The man is talented. Tyler Perry better watch his back! He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he turned to me to get the job done.

"I don't want no girlfriend", is what he said to me. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I know what I am and I am not the "girlfriend" type. A man either marries me or leaves me alone. I do date, but I don't sleep around. Every man I keep company with is not my next husband. We've been hanging out for a couple of weeks, and I admit, I like the guy, but not like that. As usual we are in my kitchen having dinner before Gabriel goes to work. An easy habit we've fallen into.

"Actually, I haven't been involved with anyone in about five years. Not for lack of opportunity. I just have yet to meet a man that was worth the trouble."

"Yeah, well like I said, I don't want no girlfriend, but you can kiss me goodnight if you want to."

I stifle the urge to laugh. "If I was looking what makes you think it would be you?" Later, Gabriel reaches for me as I push him out the front door. "Not tonight, I'm not ready for all this." Really I'm not. I think of myself as a queen. A woman of power with her own dominion. I want a king. A man worthy to submit myself to. But I begin to wonder, is Gabriel the king? He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he reached out for me.

During the past six weeks, Gabriel and I have become inseparable. The man won't let me out of his sight. He takes most of his meals at my place, goes to work, then returns to take me to sleep at his place. We have no chaperon except this strange cat with too many toes. I remain fully clothed as Gabriel chastely holds my hand all night long. He brings me breakfast in bed every morning. Steaming hot green tea, cool crunchy rice cakes, fresh fruit on the side. Conversations between us have gotten even easier. Often able to finish each others sentences, we joke about being separate entities with a shared mind. When he tells me of his dream, I almost fall out of bed. I had the same dream. Second sight is second nature to me. I've always been able to "see" but never anything like this. Gabriel accepts my psi abilities as a matter of fact. My feelings about this man are beginning to change. He claims I am obsessed, bu I remember. I remember Gabriel took me to his bed, taking me to his heart.

Next time Gabriel picks me up, I toss a few things into a bag and go. I've been spending days on end at his house. He presents me with an assignment when he leaves for work. I present him with results when he arrives home. I've also begun turning his house into a home. I made new kitchen curtains by hand. Loving every minute of it. Because I now realize, I love him. Damn. Time for the "talk".

The talk is about responsible expression of sexuality. In this day of AIDS, "down low", and other gifts that keep on giving, I believe you can only make good choices based on good information. I am not promiscuous or casual with my sexuality. I'm also allergic to latex condoms.We have had an exchange of open communication since the first day we met. I don't expect anything different now. Now I'm reaching for him.

Sitting at Gabriel's dining room table I tell him how I feel about him. I also acknowledge that I understood his position from the very beginning. He "don't want no girlfriend". I'm a big girl, I can weather disappointment. If I am not what he wants, he needs to let me go. It's as simple as that. Gabriel takes me upstairs where I end up speaking in tongue.
He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember acknowledging his option to choose.