Pride-in-Between

      Facebook is a portal to the seventh layer of hell! I was checking my yahoo mail and received a Facebook friend request from my ex!!! I had an epileptic seizure, swallowing my tongue, throwing up in my mouth all while pissing my pants. "Jesus!" I shouted. Let's shift it back. My ex (Tim) and I dated for 3 years. We lived together. It was a huge deal. Well, it fell apart and I moved out, the end. That was over a year ago. I don't do friends with the ex. Tim is completely the opposite. He has persistently tried to stay in contact with me to force some kind of friendship. I basically said "no" several times and now I get this horrifying Facebook friendship request! I'm officially inventing a new term: I just got "Facebooked"!

Facebooked (v): A mental and emotional assault via facebook

    Drama aside, I couldn't help but wonder. Why do we gays try so desperately to be friends with our ex-lovers? Why do we put that kind of unnecessary pressure on each other? Is it because we can't get married and on some level we believe our relationships aren't as valid as our heterosexual counterparts? So let's be friends. NOOOO! I doubt if Brad Heterosexual is going to invite his ex-girlfriend over for dinner with his wife. Or that Nancy Breeder will explain to her husband that she's going to the movies with her ex-boyfriend. "We're just friends now". I don't think so. !

    So why do we do it? My friends say it takes a level of maturity. I disagree. It's a matter of preference. I prefer not to be friends with my ex. Others say that "it's sad that you can't at least be friends with Tim". It's not sad. It's normal! My parents are divorced and have 3 children together and they are not friends! I have Tim in my heart and mind and that's all I want. That's all I can handle. Besides, how can you possibly move on to the "next" when you're holding on to the "ex"? Gay relationships have enough challenges without throwing the "ex" in the mix.

    I will spend the next couple of days carefully composing my response to Tim and ultimately declining his friendship request, thanks to the Hell-Mouth, I mean Facebook :)

I don't know how to casually date someone without falling in love. Let me explain. I've been on four dates in 12 years. Why, you ask? Each date became a long term relationship. I'm a professional serial monogamist. Well, I don't want to go down that road anymore. I'm focused on my career. I would like to go out on a couple of dates here and there and just have fun. Sounds simple enough right? Well, casual dating feels like I'm going against every fiber in my being! I have the mindset that when you go on a date with someone and if you like him, go on a second date, a third, a fourth, etc. And then move in together, right? I kid you not. That has been the story of my life. ************************************************************************ So, how does one date without falling in love, getting married, divorcing and never speaking to him again? How do I go on a casual date and suppress every natural instinct to become a relationship? It's so simple: Date men that I'm not physically attracted to. That's right. I'm going out with Trolls! I know what you're thinking. Let me be completely honest: I don't give a crap about his beauty on the inside, if the outside is Shrek. Come on now! Which type would you most likely want to fall in love with if you saw them sitting at a bar: Shemar Moore or Forrest Whitaker? Hugh Jackman or Billy Bob Thorton? I'm sure I'm a troll to some people too. So Let's help each other out!************************************************************************ Attention all the Forrest Whitakers and Billy Bob Thortons in the world! I WANT YOU! We'll go out on a couple of dates and then become the best of friends! Yeah! Brilliant! Brilliant, I say! Match.com, here I come!

It was a beautiful Monday afternoon. The sun was bright and not a cloud in the sky. I decided to stroll in the park taking nice deep, clean, relaxing breaths. I was loving life. I had to go to the restroom. To my horror, I saw my ex (Alex) coming out of the bathroom. My sunshine care-free Monday turned into a dark Halloween nightmare! We have all experienced a toxic relationship. Alex was mine. He is known as my Dating Anti-Christ. Don't get me wrong. Alex wasn't such a terrible person: We were just terrible together. It was an emotionally abusive relationship. We were both to blame. But that was over five years ago and I'm an adult. I can handle it. So I decided to do the grown up thing: I quickly turned to the opposite direction, grabbed my cell, pretended to talk on the phone and walk away. There's no shame in my game! I thought I was in the clear when I heard: "DJ, DJ!" I could feel the life drain out of me. I started to drool. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, I swallowed my tongue and my skin melted off my bones. So there I stood, a drooling skeleton, screaming at the top of my lungs: "JESUS!! HELP ME HELP ME THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!" That's what I was thinking. "Hi, how are you?" I replied. We talked for about 8 hours and 37 minutes. Ok, it was more like 90 seconds but it felt like 40 days and 40 nights. Did I mention I was wearing a tank top and shorts? Alex gave me that brief head to toe lust look. I almost threw up. "It was great to see you, gotta go, bye-bye", I said as I crawled away. I immediately called my best friend Tina for debriefing. There was definitely a sour apple martini in my future. I know what you're thinking: Why all the drama? You have to understand. I haven't seen him in years. This was such a turbulent relationship. I was completely unprepared and totally sober. However, I must find the meaning in everything no matter how horrifying it may be. Running into Alex reminded me of how far I have come. I wouldn't recognize the person I was when I was with him. And that's a good thing! So, if you ever encounter your Dating Anti-Christ, take a deep breath. Find your inner light and run like hell to the nearest alcoholic beverage!

I'm 6'1", Christian, Black, athletic build, relationship oriented, model, creative and intelligent. I can dance, communicate emotions effectively, versatile in bed, funny, serious, trustworthy, monogamous, and hung. In the gay world, I'm a unicorn. I'm a mythical creature that doesn't exist. Well, this Unicorn is looking for Frankenstein. Let me explain. I've been in three long term relationships. If I can take a few choice components from each person, throw in a dash of specific physical hotness from the few thousand casual encounters and assemble them into one being, I would have the perfect man for me: A Frankenstein Lover! I know what your're thinking. I cant have everything. Why not? I already possess most of the qualities I'm looking for in a mate. Not to toot my own horn, but if I exist, then so does he. We all tend to put more scrutiny in looking for a job than looking for a mate. So here are my Frankenstein Specs: 1. Religion: Christian or seeking a relationship with God 2. Race/Ethnicity: Italian, Puerto Rican, Black, White 3. Height: 6'1" / 6'2" 4. Age: 30 -40 5. Inches: 8 or more (dont get me started) 6. Top/Bottom? : Must be versatile (damn it!) 7. Body Type: Athletic, swimmer 8. Libido: High, very high, off the charts, give it to me! 9. Relationship oriented 10. Monogamous 11. Must be emotionally intellegent and expressive 12. Non- smoker 13. Intellegent 14. Creative/artistic 15. Social/ have own friends 16. Carreer: Teacher, communications, Broadcast, photographer 17. Must make me laugh 18. Relationship experience: minimum of 4 years 19. Love Dogs 20. Keeps a Journal 21. Can dance Did I leav anything out? Does this Frankenstein exist? Is it you? I'm waiting.

My heart's racing; mouth is dry; I've broken out into a cold sweat. I'm afraid for my very life. No, I'm not being held at gunpoint. It's worse much worse. I just pulled into the parking lot for my Family Reunion Picnic! It's been over 10 years since I've attended one of these dreaded events. You see, no one knows I'm gay. Well, everyone knows, but no one talks about it. This isn't any family reunion; it's a black family reunion. Our motto is "If we don't talk about it, then it doesn't exist". So, here I am; Mr. Gay. I'm out to all my friends and co-workers. I produce a gay radio talk show, for God sakes! Yet the mere site of my family reduces me into an insecure 12yr old mouse. My mind becomes a battlefield of fear and anticipation: "Will someone ask me who am I dating?" "Will my Great Aunt inquire when I'm getting married"? "What will I say? What will I do"? I've rehearsed a thousand scenarios before taking the key out of the ignition. I step out of the car and slowly approach the scene like a deer in a lion's nest. I look fabulous, wearing a blue button-down short sleeve shirt with khaki shorts. To my horror, everyone else is wearing a fire red t-shirt with our family reunion logo! I didn't get the memo. So here I am, the lone-star blue queen, standing in a sea of red demons! I could've slit my wrist with my own finger-nail! "If I could only get my hands on a Sour Apple Martini or two or six", I quietly say to myself. Did I mention that no one in my family drinks alcohol? That's right boys and girls: Soda and water were my only options. Help! It was good to see everyone, though. I greeted cousin "What's His Name" and aunt "Who Are You" with a smile and captivating conversation. I'm an actor, you know. But the entire time, I was bracing myself for the inevitable uncomfortable confrontation about my sexuality. Several hours passed and nothing happened. No one asked and no one told. By the end of the night, I had aged at least 30 years. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted for no reason. Does this sound familiar? Why does this happen? How does our fortress of faith, affirmation and self-empowerment crumple at the mere site of our loving family? I promise you this. The next family reunion, things are going to be different. I'm going to be different. I'm going to do things right. I'm going to show up drunker than hell and have a good 'ole time!! Thanks!

I'm going to expose the existence of mysterious creature in our midst. We have all experienced this illusive being. Today I shall shed the light on the phenomenon known as the Mysteriously Vanishing Homosexual! Let me explain. Picture it: Me, in a club, shocking! I'm having a good 'ole time with my friends. Suddenly, I lock eyes with a potential mate. We do the popular "Stare-Look-Away-Stare" dance. I quickly guzzle my liquid confidence and make my move. "How's it going", I ask. "Doing good and you?" he replies. I introduce myself, "My name is Blah Blah Blah". He responds, "Nice to meet you. I'm Blah Blah Double-Blah". A few minutes later, I ask for his number. He gives it to me and then tells me to call it now so that he would have mine. The deal is made. All the ingredients are there: Good quick conversation with a dash of sexual attraction. I wait the appropriate 3 to 4 days to call him. I leave a message. "Hey, I'm Blah Blah Blah. We met a few nights ago. I just wanted to call and see what's up". A few days go by and nothing. No return phone call. No text. Nothing. A couple of weeks later, I delete his number. If this sounds familiar then you too have encountered the Mysteriously Vanishing Homosexual! I even had one guy text me not once but twice, telling me how interested he is in going out. I call him, leave a message and nothing. What happened to them? More importantly, why waste your time and mine, giving out your number? If you're not into me for some insane reason, then say so. Miranda Hobbs from 'Sex and the City' once said: "I like to think they died". Although I'm not that cold, I want to send a message to all the Vanishing Homosexuals in the world (you know who you are): The next time you see a hot 6'1" black man walking up to you, politely hold up your hand and repeat after me: "I am a Vanishing Homosexual". I will gladly stop; turn the other direction and move on to the next conquest. Thanks.