Friday, April 9, 2010

hi. how are you? i hope things are going well. it's been an interesting few weeks.

yeah so i was talking with Imet the other day, and he pissed me off. when i picked up the phone, he had this really small voice. beaten. broken. tired.


i fckng hate whiny voices. espeeeeecially on men. anyway i ask him what's wrong. he launches into a familiar diatribe about how difficult things are, how he's stressing out,k how things are so new and confusing for him, etc. it's not that i don't believe him. it's not that i don't care. i do, and i do. it's not that i don't understand. oh i most certainly do. and it's not that i'm unsympathetic. well, not completely. it's that he seems to be feeding on the sympathy. he wants pity. and that, mes amis, i am extremely short on.

"i'm sorry to hear this, babe. but don't feel down on yourself. have you tried XYZ? and what about ABC? i'd even recommend EF...what do you mean you don't wanna try it? you never know, it might... oh ok then."


you see i'm finding (and liking the fact that) i'm losing patience for emotional indiscipline. no... that's too rarefied.

i'm losing my ability to feel. and i like that. and the fact that i like it, worries me.

this isn't a new thing. it's just more noticeable lately, to me. even on the job, i know my boss has noticed my ability to emotionally cordon myself off from the goings-on and client tantrums. very, very easily. i like that. i'm able to parse through my team-mate's sometimes reptilian behavior and deal with what is, not what it feels like. i like that. emotional discipline? perhaps. more likely though, it's just emotional fatigue.

there's a point to all this.

so after Imet decided that my recommendations were too annoying to deal with and summarily hung up on me, and after my irritation with that encounter abated, i found myself ...feeling... something. wasn't sure what. then it hit me with terrifying clarity: i wanted to cry.

aw HELL nah. i don't cry on command. oh i cry, sure. but for a reason. this sudden need to cry didn't make sense. then i realized it was months and months of feelings that i'd shoved to the side, under the carpet, into my job, away from my family, and anywhere else i could hide em. yep, they were baaaa-aaack. and they wanted out. NOW.

so i let it rip.

my dad had told me when i was a kid, that the human body will always exact its needs from you. when you push too hard, it lets you... and then it pushes back. it could be a sudden fever. a 24hr bug. or, for the more aggravated offenders, a heart attack.

the human body will always exact its needs from you.

so after my comeuppance, i reviewed my conversation with Imet. and i got PISSED. what the FCK kind of btch-like behavior WAS that??!!

for those just tuning in, i'm a traditionalist. oh, and not just when it comes to gender roles. gademmit, i want my hot drinks, hot, and my cold drinks, cold. i do NOT understand such shyt as frappachino and mochalatawtfcks....a cappucino is supposed to be HOT. p-e-r-i-o-d. i do NOT understand liquefied veggies. what the fck for?? i want my carrots crunchy, and yes, i'm that weirdo bytch who can taste the carrot in the "fruity" V8 blends. whatever. when i carry my purse, the logo must face outwards. that's what it was created for. when i bathe, i actually put my wrist through the loopy thingie on the loofah. at all times.

i'm a traditionalist. seen?

so the role reversal in my conversation with Imet was just too much to bear. how did i become the practical one offering advice while he tells me he doesn't waaaaant advice, he just wants someone to liiiisten? UGH!! buy, borrow or steal a pair, bish, but MAN UP!! okay, i'm being melodramatic. but i was truly annoyed.

so what do i do? these moments are gonna come. i'm gonna have to be soft. i dunno how to do that. i wasn't raised to do that. i was raised to be tough, to lead, to be strong. so now i have to learn how to be soft? really?


*sigh* i am starting to really like Imet. just wish i could trust that it's real. could this be real? no, wait... i can't deal with another emotional dam-break this night. i'm about to suck down these allergy pills and call it a night. deuces.


  1. in the words of the great lyricist, Wacka Flocka [Flame]:


    sugar, i am you & you are me. have you mentioned your age yet? i think some of this is age (35 for me), fatigue as you mentioned, & confusion.

    i too am a traditionalist about most things, including gender roles. i was just recently thrown off by a gentleman in my life doin his own version of Imet's song & i LOST IT!! i went there & all but called him a "bish." i crushed his manhood & showed him the door. in my mind i was thinking: ONLY 1 OF US CAN BE HYPEREMOTIONAL IN THIS MICKYFLICK & IT AIN'T GON' BE YOU, SIR!!

    conflicts w/that whole concept of women wanting to know what a man is feeling. i guess we forgot to quantify that the feelings should be at least somewhat masculine & not make us feel like we're listening to our girlfriends rant.

    the other part for me, sadly, is calloused emotions. i've shared so much of myself without receiving the returns on my emotional investments in the ways i'd hoped by now. i ain't got much else to give for temporary--but what isn't? even if we're together for 35 years, it's still temporary cuz 1 of us will live another day or part of a lifetime w/out the other. there are no guarantees. still, i'm been left w/my emotional scars too raw to just let anybody come thru here & set up camp. don't plant no flags here & act like you discovered something. I RUN this nation, don't be coming in trying to usurp my power over me.

    it boils down to living in fear & distrust. i can identify it, but i damn sure don't know how to change it. in the meantime, i live BOLDLY as ME, comfortably. sometimes it's comfortably (which doesn't equal right) in the shade. cuz a barrier blocks out everything-good & bad.

    goin to marinate on my own words. hate when i check i actually love it. have a wonderful wknd!!

  2. Yeah, I'm not sure how I feel about a whiny guy. I'm down with letting him vent, especially if he needs to get it off his chest. But whining? Jeepers!!

  3. i agree with both of you ladies. (ndygo you... are... hilarious! lol!)

    we haven't had another #growsomeballs incident since then. i think he now understands. sympathy, compassion, sure, i can do those. PITEE though?! mfckr i can't even spell it right. ya got the wrong one, son.