Where the fuck does this shit begin… LOL. The decisions that we make have real life consequences on Us all the time, and we take them for granted far too often. A choice to fuck, instead of taking my ass to sleep so I can make the extra money I needed to make. That one choice began the series of decisions I made to find myself here. Needing to have a resilient era. I didn’t have the patience when my life was going well. I didn’t show the love and compassion that I usually have on fully display. I operated from a lustful, agitated place. One born from feeling judged, unappreciated, and not listened to. Ending something that had the potential to be life-lasting. Creating the full family dynamic I prayed for.

The communication needed for success was missing. Too much done in secret, not enough open and clear for us to discuss and come to one accord. I worked three times as hard as he did to maintain the support structure for our relationship. That was the downfall. Right after it ended, my kryptonite came along, and we were soo close to having what we dreamed about since 2006. Again, my impatience and impulsiveness wouldn’t let me sit the fuck still. Then my sex demon showed up and, well, that’s all it takes to fuck up the recipe. Who was there waiting, would be the person that threw the grenade into the building, and everything crumbled. I never knew what it was like to date someone on drugs until him. I had seen it around me before in a prior relationship with my boyfriend’s moms. Seeing that up close, nigga, I knew I never wanted to deal with someone who had that illness as a lover. It would require too much babying and handholding. Monitoring the mood to know how to speak and what to say. Trying to determine if the person will want to a sexaholic or isolate and just sleep. Or, if they want to fight and be violent. I wasn’t prepared to be with someone who was a drug addict. The extent of the lies, deceit, manipulation, instability, violence, dependency, and fear someone displays while being on hard drugs is overwhelming.

I didn’t know what to do and the only person I knew who could help me, gave me the advice that I already knew was the answer. As long as I choose to be with this man, I’m going to have to deal with this shit. Can’t keep talking about wanting to leave and constantly staying. Though not understanding, our lives are so tied together, even if I leave, until I break the ties that bind, we would still be linked together. The first mistake was following through. Had I never went to his house that night, I wouldn’t have known him. In Atlanta, at any time, if you set a link and then flake and never say shit, that’s a kill shot. You will be talked about, and that person not gone fuck wit you at all. Some people don’t care about doing that. If it takes too long, if they find someone else, they want, if they lose the mood, if they go to sleep, if the dynamics in their life change, the link will be canceled, and you may not know until they don’t respond anymore. At that time, I was one of those who cared about that shit. LOL. If I set a link, Imma show up to it, at least. Now if you didn’t match what you sent then, yo ass is done. Walk away and see another day. But you match what you send, and we gone have a good time. Spit the right game, you might be able to kick it at the crib. Show me the right consistency and you can probably live there. Playing house and living like we building something forreal. Knowing damn well, it’s more likely I get tired of them not doing shit or enough, or they get tired of being looked at as unequal, and the relationship ends.

Smartly, you didn’t really tie yourself up in him. You just let them come move with you. What happens when they hit Jackpot? You lose your fuckin mind and potentially blow up everything. That’s exactly what happened with this one. This era came to be because you didn’t have patience. You jumped at the first man who showed you consistent attention. No doubt the man loved you. What you didn’t see is that the more he fell in love with you, the more scared he became, which led him to start using hard drugs again. He wasn’t ready and you ignored it because you wanted to be the savior and victor. You wanted to take someone who had potential and let them see it. So, you could say that you didn’t forget the people who were once like you. I appreciate the mindset we had at the time, but that shit was so wrong. When the arguments went from simple and minor, to aggressive and complex. He went from being responsible and consistent, to sporadic and unreliable. Yet, you still remained undeterred. Everyone could see that he was not the right one for you. But you were blinded and made the decision. Cue the grenade. LOL. The second you made the choice to fuck him and not leave immediately after finishing, you sealed your fate. He became the next project attempt LOL. That’s what your kids used to say about you. You never told them what was really happening. If you had, they would’ve come running to save you. Doing whatever was necessary with him and his family, if necessary. Your kids are more protective of you than you think. You understood that you had to get yourself out of this fucked up situation. You put yourself here, you have to find your way out. Yes, you lost your career, car, apartment, health, nearly your life, and relationships. Allowing your lust for ass and a nice body, to cloud the vision of stability, health, and happiness. You compounded the fuck up by not allowing him to leave after the first blow-up y’all had in Texas. Thousands of dollars of damage were done to the property, and a red flag drawn to y’all because of his inability to control himself.

The biggest fuck up you made, was connecting your lives together on paper. Mixing his name and your name purchasing cars together was stupid. You knew he couldn’t be counted on, but here you are, paying for his shit. Doing the normal Zay shit because that’s the type of nigga you are, and the people who you normally fuck with, appreciate it and respect it. This nigga was far more street, that impressed him, but he didn’t overly respect you. There was a toughness missing from you, that definitely you carry now. You allowed him to see your vulnerability for him and exploited it for as long as he could until you said enough. The fights, the arguments, the violence, the damage, the hurt, the hate, the disgust, the disrespect, anger, the frustration, the fear, the betrayal. There were venomous words spoken, hostile acts performed, love made, lust revealed, fears realized, a heart destroyed, a life left in pieces. After being embarrassed at your job numerous times, nearly being fired shortly after beginning. Losing the best job he would’ve ever had because he didn’t want to stop smoking Tina. Any of those moments you could have chosen to walk away. Instead, you stayed and continued to get battered, beaten, and destroyed. You arrived feeling good, nervous, and scared, but determined and resolved. Once he lost that job and you saw the fear become raw and exposed, You knew, shit was over!

He burned everything you spent so much time and effort building. The core of You. The things you desperately wanted in life. The family you built, the career you were building, the life you created. it was all over. It crashed out and blew up!! Shambles and pieces. I know it felt like a sledgehammer was wrecked through the foundation. Crippling you to a place you never knew, never dared to consider living in. It shattered you to places unrecognizable. Now, the foundation has been rebuilt. You are standing up on your terms and time. Living and learning. Growing and experiencing. Accepting who You are and where the red lights are. Don’t overexpose your hand or yourself. There was a raw exposure of your life to everyone you knew. You were forced to be seen in the light that you honestly created. Separate from the one that the world had come to know. You were seen as the example and the standard. Having full moral clarity of judgment and choice. While on the ugly underbelly, you were the breathing definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The undeniable truths were coming to the front; you couldn’t deny any of them. The fucked up part is all of his truths came out as well and they were overlooked because he was willing to be louder about your facts than you were about his. Here is the truth. He was being a slut just like I was. There were no intentions from either of us. It was just supposed to be one time. But immediately we realized that there was a magic that can’t be explained or understood if you haven’t experienced it before. There was an immediate comfort that formed between us. We felt this organic transformation. We went from strangers in the night, meeting for a nice fuck, to immediate bedfellows. LMFAO. Niggas who chose to settle down together and try to build something. The problem with that, is neither of us had taken the time to address the dark underbellies that killed our relationship.

He was a drug addict at heart still. He lived a fast life, just one cloaked in mystery and newness. His nasty deeps happened in Florida. Not quickly or easily referenced. There was one person that served as his life cover. Years spent in the ebbs and flows of a toxic relationship. No one knowing the bones he collecting, except his older brother. They were wingmen in each other’s business for years. When the shit hit the fan, he didn’t take anyone’s side. He was honest to the core, and that’s why I loved him so much. I was wrong for my part. I never was unwilling to accept my faults. I understood as clearly as anyone can, that I was dead wrong. Additionally, I had my ass covered. I couldn’t have been the one to give it to him. He was already living the life before I met him. His brother told those truths too. He knew it couldn’t have been me, and he said it live on social media for the world to see. That’s when things started to change, more favorably to me, because even though I was negligent, he was way fuckin more out of pocket than me. That nigga was out there low low bussin down. But it did come to light. That’s when the drugs took center stage, and his brother had to exit left because he was culprit responsible for that too. That’s when it came back to You. Choices had to be made quickly and you couldn’t resist the lust that powered you. He was ideal when he kept his shit together. Handsome, caramel, masc-fem boy with all the shit you want. Problem is… he was on that shit, and you didn’t know anything about it, until it too late, while still being early enough.

The introduction to him wasn’t the best. He was referenced and rarely seen. You continued to be out in the city, with him, but he was never invited in, to the family that you built He chose to include you in his family circle. You traveled with him to his hometown to meet his family. You got to see the dark underbelly of his life that he was getting away from. It was one built on, from, in, with the streets. Hustling was the only way they all knew to get what they wanted. There were two that were close, who wanted better for him. Wanted him to do different and be different than the rest. They saw his potential and knew all he needed was someone to guide him in another direction. He was always reluctant though. Scared to be considered a trader on his people, because he got out and didn’t give it right back to them. Like they were used to in the past when he took a man with some income. He got from him and gave to them. Not in that sense though. He worked and kept his own. Never willing to allow anyone to be in control of him. He didn’t have that established here yet. It was in the beginning stages of being built. He was following the typical new to Atlanta plan. Come with family, find a place, live on the go until you can get your own. Or, until you find someone that can build something lasting.

His demons and his structure were on full display to you. He knew it and wanted to get away. He wanted to show you why you’re only heard and viewed, never seen. Because your presentation is an invitation to them. Now you have a new source, and they need to tap into that. Once you showed him that you were willing to play the game, he did exactly what he’s always done and what his family wanted him to do. The problem is… you weren’t going to give him money to support them. You would help them when the occasion happened. It opened a fissure that grew to become an abscess, and it blew up and oozed out on everything. His fear of failing and not being enough for you turned him harder to the drugs and at that point, you lost him. The relationship was never going to be the same. His family was more successful at getting in his ear about asking me for money for them. Originally, he was on my side. Then once he started back on the drugs, and his sister came to stay with us for a few days. The recon mission was complete and now the operation became get embedded and get all that you could.

I was addicted to men with balance. A masculine and feminine twist that drove me insane. He was that to the max. Look at his body and got damn. Nice long dick, cute peach ass. Inwardly as sweet and submissive as I love. He was in a state of rebuild and I had built a solid foundation already. I knew what the roadblocks were, and I wanted to navigate them. I thought I could make it a smooth transition into my life until I realized his phone profile tilted far more feminine that I understood. I kept him away from the inner reaches of my circle and I could tell he wanted that more than anything. I would never let him get too close to me and he could feel it. He didn’t know my momma, or anyone close to me. It was always just me and him when we went out. Never seeing anyone I knew, and if I did, I was very discreet and quick about it. His curiosity about my life was intriguing and scary. I gave him details that he craved but he would want specifics and I was never comfortable giving him those.

Because I would never give him the details he went searching. He looked around and he found things. He discovered other parts of who I am. We left the church because he realized that some of the church members are former fuck friends, fucks, or crushes. That also hurt our foundation because we found common bond in church. His mother who raised him instilled the church into his foundation. That was one of the easiest bonding points. When we lost that connection, that was the last straw. He became reckless and destructive. The drugs had become the focus and things went left quickly. I had numerous opportunities to get away from him, but I always stayed around. Willing to try and figure it out, because I loved him, and I wanted to build the future with someone who wanted it just as bad as I did.

He began to find out just how much of a slut you were here. People he came across, that already had come across you too. Some openly flaunted that they had you in bed. Others wanting to sow seeds of doubt and jealousy, exposed my dating history. Nothing to be ashamed of by far, but to show him the type of men I’ve had on my arm. Also to show that I have a pattern for being with people who need to be built up. Fair or unfair that was the label. Acknowledging that I usually had a better financial situation than my partner, the truth was their spirits always touched me. My heart has always been open to anyone, but those with something to lose take too long to act on the real-life they see in their faces. Understandably worried about the impact to the success they’ve already attained. Dating them was more difficult because even if you manage to find someone who isn’t that procrastinating, there’s often this innate nature of competition that takes over. The needle has to be thread perfectly, and that takes too much time. If they’ve been scared, they’re stuck for way too long on how to recover and when to allow themselves to feel whole again.

We did this dance for two years. At the beginning, we overcame the fear of opening up. Testing the authenticity of our feelings and desires to build a life together, independent from what society around us we should be. We traversed the city. Going to different attractions and nature walks. Having dinner at nice restaurants. Enjoying our time together. Letting the world see that we have something lasting. Some bitter, some envious, some happy, some elated for the love and joy they saw on their screens. Cooking dinner together, playing the game together, falling asleep cuddled up on the sofa. A beautiful love story that was unfolding without caring about what anyone thought. Early stumbles offset by understanding, talking, and love. Once his self-doubt crept in, the disagreements became marked by him lashing out and becoming overly aggressive. It longer for the talks to sufficiently calm him down, but they eventually did. Problem is, my underbelly was beginning to expose itself and he was going to rip it apart. After the initial reaction to my inner slut past showing up calmed down, his insecurities blew them scars wide open. Questioning my secrecy of him in the physical world. Offen times present when I’m talking to my close friends and family, because we do live together, but not brought into the discussion at all. Never going out to dinner or some activity together. Never coming over for dinner.

It’s pretty tough to believe your man when he says who he is, and what he used to do before he met you because he stopped doing everything after meeting you. The truth is I never thought he was going to last long. I never anticipated my heart getting so entangled with his. Once your heart decides to wrap its veins around the heart of another nigga, you don’t know how long it’s going to take for you to unwrap yourself, should that day come… It took a long time, and it caused a lot of fuckin pain. As we allowed the peace to settle on our relationship, the next bomb dropped that was the kill shot. I was moving to Texas for a career promotion. It wasn’t a rushed decision. I had thought it out and been planning. I didn’t expect to meet someone here that I would want to take with me there. This was really the last best chance to get away from him and save myself from what would happen. I chose to stay. I wanted to fight for the love I thought we had. Hoping that the story he sold me could be true. That he just needed a fresh start in a different place we’ve never been. No one has the advantage of anything He was gone work and I was gone work and build our friend circles from that.

We worked hard in the final couple months living in Atlanta to focus and handle business. To learn how to be friends and lovers again. Starting to rebuild our trust in and for each other. It was rough as fuck, LOL. But we were doing it. We were finding our way to laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The problem there, was he had gotten sucked back into the drug and drama family life back in Florida. Part of our reset included him going back and forth to Florida some weekends, to see his family. We always got mixed support from his people. They constantly talked about how happy they was that he found someone to help him grow out of his negative, toxic ways. While also questioning if we could make it because of his past. Wondering about why I don’t show you off to my family, at the very least my friends. The argument was valid given the dependency in our relationship on each other. I never have been the most open person about every nigga I date though. The right people knew about him from the beginning. They were acutely aware of him and knew when we had issues.

The plan was to find our house. Have an apartment first couple years and then look for a home we could create. He got a job being a bus driver for the Carrollton County school district. The company also did private bus driving for the three major sports teams in Dallas, The Cowboys, Mavericks, and Rangers. The pay was amazing, and the opportunities were even better. That nigga had it made. Guy said they pay for his CDL training and license. They warn of the drug test day so if you do smoke, you can be prepared. He didn’t care. He wanted a hit bad enough that he blew it off and failed the test. Automatic termination from the training program. Here we are back in the same position we found ourselves in Atlanta. No job, drug habit starting to rage, and add to it, in an unknown and unfamiliar environment. We had a falling out early after we moved, bad enough for him to pack his shit and leave. That was the second time I had to get fully away from him with limited damage done. ANd yet, I called him back, fighting to keep the relationship.

The disagreements became fights. The arguments turned violent, and I began to spiral to a place I didn’t know, to a person I didn’t recognize. His fear and frustration boiling over, raging every day. Never sure if I’m going to have to flight or fight, I slept with all my clothes on. After taking a shower always putting on enough that I needed very little to get out the house. Bruises, cuts, and scars randomly showing up on my face. When he was high from smoking meth, everything about him changed. He was far more volatile and moody. He didn’t eat and was constantly horny, We argued so aggressively and disrespectfully. We lost our apartment because of his temper and violence He exposed to my family that I had over 200 sex partners during one argument. And while that’s true, that number was vastly understated. The damage was done though. My momma didn’t look at me the same for years. He publicly exposed my underbelly slut to the world on social media. He created drama and tension with my circle and birth families. I began to isolate from everyone the more public my shit, and our relationship became. I got to see who really fucked with me though. The people that needed to step back to see the forest, offered their unwavering support when called upon.

The first major act of disrespect was when he spit on me after a fight we had. We argued and literally fought. It was so disgusting and embarrassing. But he was on the drugs and that shit made him Superman. His strength was something weird. So while getting up he spit on me and I left the house. He would later apologize and we would move forward from that, but it was a moment that I needed to move on from if we were going to make it. While that is enough to make me leave, I felt like I couldn’t. Our lives have become so intertwined by this point leaving just wasn’t feasible yet. The second major disrespectful moment was when he tried to kill me with his car. By this time we were living in the extended stay and surviving. Budgeting to get out, but his drugs always kept us there. He had been on a drug binge and accused me of sleeping with other people. Despite the fact I’m working two jobs because my one, good paying job, couldn’t take of us and his drug habit.

He comes up to my job while I’m about to leave out for a delivery and starts an argument. He follows me down the street, then chased behind me, until we were on a street where he could speed up beside me. He was on my phone and told me that he would kill us both. And at the very next thing that happened was his attempt to do that. He mashed the gas pedal on his car and sped up next to me, swerved right, crashed into my driver-side door and, because he was going so fast, his car flew in the air and landed on the other street. It was the most unreal shit I’ve ever seen. He was actually hell-bent on killing me. If you saw the initial point of impact and realized that the wheel of his car was less than 2 inches from going through my driver-side windshield. The result could’ve been my death. One of the families that lived in the neighborhood called the police and he was arrested. They charged him with aggravated battery with a deadly weapon. If he were to be convicted he would’ve been sentenced to between 1-10 years, since the charge is a felony.

To protect him, I chose not to tell my family about that incident. I only told my best friend after it had happened. His family knew everything because they needed to bond him out of jail. They were all reluctant to help, except his birth mother. That came with massive strings attached that would throw even more drama on an already super fuckin hot fire. He got out, and I refused to participate with the prosecution on the case. They didn’t subpoena me to testify but they informed me that they could. No charges were ever brought since the grand jury didn’t have enough evidence. That’s enough to push anyone to the edge and over right. Not to mention in between all this, he came to my job and caused scenes, we fought at the extended stay and I would sleep outside. During one of our separations, the next major disrespectful act, he brought a nigga to the room while I was gone to work. And then left to go fuck him. He was mad because I didn’t wanna have sex as much as he did. He was forgetting that we were living in an unknown place, with no money, living check to check, he quit his job, got back hooked on drugs and I have to maintain everything. Fucking was the last thing on my mind. That never happened again, and for a while, things got better afterward. The final disrespectful act happened when he woke me up out my sleep, aggressively taking my clothes off and shoving his fingers inside my ass. He claimed he wanted to see if I was cheating. If I had allowed someone to fuck me. That shit made no sense to me at all. I left and drove over 20 hours home to see my momma. Determined not to quit, I went back to continue a journey I started. Which led to the third chance I had to get away from him.

It was nearly Christmas 2017 and we were at the pinnacle of our last big fallout before being forced to leave Texas. He was ready to leave and I was ready for him to go. He went back and this was considered our final breakup. The distance actually did good for us. Away from the constant reminder of how fucked up shit was, we just became the better versions of ourselves that we enjoyed. Leading to his epic final return. During this last 2 month run, the drug habit caught up to me, and I car was repossessed for nonpayment. He had to take me to work and on the days he was high and we had disagreements, he made me late. My job was on a points system and tardiness accumulated points. I had random and unplanned callouts, because of his ass, which added to my points. He caused me to be late on final time, and the next day I was fired. Instead of staying depressed, I pivoted, returned back to Atlanta. Here I knew how to maneuver, had more resources, and could rebuild on my own. All the entanglements between me and him had been severed. The car was the last piece and he fucked around and got that repossessed for missing his payments.

After we got back, we agreed on the drive that the bullshit must stop. No more drugs, no more hiding. Building up from the beginning. Incorporating ourselves more in each other’s personal lives. That lasted all of a week. The drugs came back and this time I wasn’t staying. The fourth chance came for me to leave and I left without looking back. I got my own room, stayed long enough to do my new hire stuff for my job, and because of a city issue that delayed my start date for my job, I went home to my momma for a month. Breaking the tie, destroying the bond. Bridge torched. That day in March 2018 was the final time that we would have business. By time I came back for work, he was doing his fuck shit. Fucking people I know, and telling me that he did it. I blocked his access to me and that began my road to healing. Over 3 years in total of dealing with this man, and now he’s gone. So much negativity and pain. I closed the chapter by going back to revisit the sites of the most tramautic pain in Texas. Allowing my heart, mind, and spirit to find the closure it needed. Time to take my life back. It’s a lot of dark moments, traumatic events, and painful stories that grow me to where I am today. The Resilient Era is alive and starting…

Man… fuck! What the fuck is going on in the cosmos? Here we are again just feeling all the emotions of life. This time in the most positive of ways possible. Healing, growing, learning, developing, striving. I’m beyond proud of the man I see in front of me today. A proud Son, a determined Father, an ambitious Professional, a loving Brother, an Inspired Uncle. How did we get here? What the fuck is really happening in my life right now? Well… let’s not waste any more time. Happy Father’s Day to EVERY Father out there! From One to One!

This King that you’ve seen on display for the better part of 20 years now, came from the hood bitch. I was born in the projects, started growing and developing there. Honestly, I loved it. I used to run with my older cousins, and nigga, let me tell you something!!! It was fuckin exhilarating! Like nigga, I’m this lil ass jit, okay! My cousins are older and already developing/developed. They chasin girls and instead of me being at home, I was always with them. They used to tell me, be quiet, don’t say nothin. And what the fuck did I do…? I stayed the fuck quiet and didn’t say shit. LMFAO. Truth is, I love them for it. Because it showed me what the streets are/were. How to maneuver tactfully in the streets, when you get ready. It also teaches you how to handle yourself at all times. Authentic, direct, but approachable always. Never being too caught up on U, because that’s when U make mistakes and get fucked up. Always keep it on the whole, which starts with U! Without U, the circle doesn’t work, because U are the needle that threads it all together. Watch and see how this universe works. That’s what a Father is to me. Always underappreciated, but ALWAYS necessary. No matter what form it took in development, a true Father will ALWAYS Be present.

He will most likely not come made this way. There isn’t a blueprint, and the examples aren’t always the best or most desired. So, learning how to Be a Father is something that takes time, desire, skill, and love. Shaped from the beginning of understanding the man, and what his expected role is versus what his role needs to be. The man called Father on my birth certificate is an example of the standard, Black male Father figure. He worked and provided the majority of the income with his salary. Provided stability and certainty. Demonstrated what work ethic and hard work is supposed to look like. Also, displaying the need for balance in life. Take time away for yourself to be with the family you created. But he failed in the most important areas. He didn’t build bonds, lasting and emotional. He didn’t understand true quality time and what it meant. Far too often content with the small, nominal gestures that satisfied the bar. Wondering why the child you clamored to bear Your name sake, felt and behaved nothing like You. Never able to connect with him because You preferred to be the Man’s man. More concerned with how You look, than how Your family sees you. You used your charm and charisma to fuck around when You desired. You had the nerve to take me around one of the women. She’s a mother, so I will not disrespect her, but any of them others that You chose to slang Your dick in… bruh, just straight trash. Mostly, You.

I was always watching. I always saw and felt everything. I never talked about it because it wasn’t business to tell. It was, however, my life. Even as a kid I ran from the tragedy. Always desiring to be with my best friends, as opposed to this house. Because the man that’s supposed to be the leader doesn’t know how to lead a fuck thing, except his dick. Always wondering why, You never stepped up and moved up in Your career? Just driving them damn busses every fucking day. Until You got too old to trick off and You finally sat that down and made a couple career moves. Too late to be useful to the families You created. Because that’s right, You have four other children, before me, and one after me. Nigga You definitely fit in with Your times. Make them babies, and not necessarily with the same women. You have 6 different Mothers of Your children. Your first born is the one who was the most like You. Moved just like You. Nasty and trifling. And it was there that Your downfall came. The final nail in Your coffin came after his memorial service. When You stood there, grinning for the people, Salesman for the family, basically meaning You, and betrayer in the eyes of the woman You regret most.

As a kid, I always knew the role you played. You were the parent who was involved enough that You were present. They saw You when it was time to get the shine. Your son, who has Your name is out here showing out again. Whether in the Hood elementary schools, after school, Suburban elementary school, I was gone stand out no matter what. It’s just who I am. When I want something, I’m gone get it. If it’s meant to be mines, when I apply pressure, it’s coming home. You ate that shit up out in them streets. Always talking to Your people about what I’m accomplishing, and how I’m accomplishing it. Knowing that My Mother wants me to know ALL of my family, we gravitate, now, to Your side of the family more. Around for all the family shit. Cookouts, family functions, church, all that shit. I’m seeing all my cousins more frequently. Around during the holiday season. Being compared to my younger cousin. We’re a year apart so close enough to compare, in their eyes. Because I was always thought of as more on my momma side, Your people were always sketchy with me. Showing commercial love always, but really only a few of them fucked with me for real. We were never gone fit into their Churchgoing ass circle. You never had the balls to tell them to back the fuck up, so we knew that it was gone be up to us to find our way to fit in. Some Father you are. Your family needs You to be the leader, and You bitch up. Preferring to be preoccupied with who knows the fuck now.

That experiment eventually crashed and burned. Although, it came back a couple times out of necessity. Always showing that it has potential, but never can be fully realized because You could never be a leader. I saw You always proud of me when I showed out. You also beamed whenever me and my siblings were able to join together. Problem was, them niggas couldn’t stand Yo ass. My sisters were always partial to You though. So, I always knew of their presence, more than my older brothers. Awards ceremonies, You were always counted on to be there. The big ones only. The smaller, intimate affairs, reserved for my mother. When I tore the house down in front of the school board in elementary school. Nigga, You ate that shit up. I was the fuckin show, and You made sure Your name got dripped on. My mother prepared that prince that night. She does that grunt work. Polishing my skills, always pushing my vernacular growth. Never allowing me to start something and see it to a conclusion. You were out there pounding pavement, much respect to You for that. But You failed to do the work. End of elementary school saw me show my ass AGAIN. And there You were, present to get the shine, overstepping my mother. Boy scouts, You did the same thing. When it was competition time, Yo ass was front and center. When it’s grind time, just me and her. Your example was always lacking in the personal department. Never fully appreciating that I watched You, because You were my example. Purposefully chosen to bring Your legacy into the world. And just like with Your other children, You were absent in being a fully present Father.

Presidential Academics and Physical Fitness. You were lights, camera, action for those moments, bro. Smiling for the people, lovingly embracing Your family. Allowing the audience to see that this is a proud, two parent household. Meanwhile, behind the doors, You can’t keep Your dick to Yourself. You bring me along with You to the woman’s house, who would become Your sixth and final mother of Your child. How disgusting of a role model can You be? Buying Your son’s silence and praying on his compassionate heart. Knowing that the love he has for his mother would see him hurt in silence, before he wanted her to hurt out loud. Praying on that to wedge him and his mother. You were the worst kind of Father. Present and destructive. The absent Father is destructive, because his active presence makes the difference in his sons’ life. You are the worst, because You have the power to help shape a generational leader. And You chose to try and poison him instead. You knew that I have greatness inside me. It was always and is always on display. You didn’t know how to grow and transcend, because You chose to be stuck in the paradigm of what the traditional Church said a Black Man was supposed to be. And Your family was too stuck up the religion’s ass to tell You the fuckin truth. Except one, and that’s she was always my favorite auntie. Her daughters my favorite and most loyal cousins.

When You, the Father, saw the first signs that Your son was gay, the reaction by You, was to show me straight porn. To introduce me to titties and pussy, dick and ass. That’s where You fucked up, and You never knew it. Hell yea I loved watching that shit. At first, it was because of the fuckin. I loved seeing the big, black dick slide in and out of the wett pussy. But after a short time, I didn’t give a fuck about the pussy, I became fixated on the man. His chiseled body, that bush that led down to his shiny, massive, hard, chocolate dick, beautiful balls, and his perfect, plump, soft, juicy ass. Like nigga damn, let me come join and fuck the shit out You, while You fuck the girl. HAHAHA. Anyway, this was your attempt to get me to understand sex, the traditional nature of it, and who I’m supposed to fuck. Then the next step was to attempt to bond with me by talking about Your fucking stories. How You slept with different women, and when You didn’t want to fuck them, You laid in bed with them, with Your dick between Your legs. Interesting anecdotes from Your life. Needless to say, You didn’t try understanding me, and You didn’t ask any questions to try and figure me out. Just used the normal male bonding shit, that failed miserably. As a man, and a Father You let the mother of Your fifth child find out about Your sixth child through the streets. How the fuck do You justify that? Then You didn’t facilitate the introduction of Your youngest two children, of course the women of the family had to engineer that. Some Father You are, right. What do I do with that? I’m watching my family crumble, and my example isn’t show me a fuckin thing, except for what not to do.

Right before this crumble, You had actually managed to build a nice little family unit. We got to another crowning moment for Your son and You followed through on call. Showing up, beaming like a chess cat. Your son did it again. Being chosen from his peers to be The Master of Ceremonies, fancy words for Host, LMFAO, for his school business program awards ceremony. Being part of the class and the student chosen to host this show was magnanimous. You would never miss this, but when I was selected as Student of the Year for this same class program, You missed. Smaller and more intimate, but more impactful. Recognized at the local/regional level again. Money given, thankful that my mother got her shine that day. But today, oh that’s big-time day, You need Your shine. Your son is the one controlling the mike. You showed Your ass like only You can. And me, well I showed out like only I can. That day, a perfect match for You. Danger awaited though, and You failed to be a Father to me. Now we’ve managed to get past the fuck shit You did, and the family unit is coming back together. No thanks to You but You didn’t torpedo it, so credit given to You there. You actually became a functional Father for the first time towards the end of my high school career. You saw me accomplish things small and large. You allowed Yourself to be present for a while. I could see why people found it so easy to gravitate towards You. When You were put together, You had an attractive package to offer. You knew popular culture to an extent, You tried to maintain Your relevance. You made the room slightly more comfortable with Your quick wit and intellect. The family units began to blend better together. Both sides of my family connected and connecting. But again, warning ahead, lightening yet to strike, and it would eventually yield the death blow.

Understand that when I graduated high school, I gained an appreciation for You that I didn’t have before. Because some things had happened to You along the way, and You preserved. You finally learned to step up to the plate and lead Your family. But, You had no idea what was really lurking under the surface. Your prized son is gay. He has always liked boys. Been touching, playing, feeling, fucking on them since he was a child. Numerous childhood friends know about the interactions because they were the first ones, of course. There was a particular interaction in middle school that I’ve never forgotten. That’s fuckin crazy right?? Middle school nigga. Do You know how far back that is for any of yall? Whew??!! But I remember like it happened yesterday. Standing in the classroom of my first period teacher. All the crew came in our class every morning because class starts. She’s the fun, relatable teacher and this is the fun period, the first of them. But, my longtime friend came in the class, unknowingly to me, was right behind me. The lights in the classroom were turned out, and he whispered in my ear, “Stand still let me do this, don’t tell nobody about this.” I’ve never forgotten those words, or the person who said them to me. When he did, I knew at that moment, I’ve always been watched. And by the most unexpecting people.

How would You handle all of this, when it comes out? Like a fucking BITCH. The proudest I ever saw You was my Senior Prom and after I wrecked my car. Senior Prom because I took a childhood friend, who was all grown up, like me, to Prom. Oh, we were a beautiful match. Baby girl was so beautiful. Naturally beautiful and the most radiant, comfortable smile. It was definitely saucy with me and her. You ate that shit up. Helping me get ready, giving me Your SUV for the night. Nigga You never did any of this shit to this level before. Everyone who saw us together saw the potential. None of yall understood we played for the same team. She really likes women and I really like men. Loving each other nonetheless. Having a few dates but realizing the truth and loving our friendship that much more, however strained it may be. The other was after I wrecked my car, because the reason was acceptable for You. I had a girl friend who was younger than me, and I was keeping her under wraps from just yall for months. LOL. She was fine too. Tall, dark, slim, ran track. She definitely was a baddie, real shit. LOL. When You found that out, ohhhh, yo Bitch made ass was thrilled. She came to my going away cookout and the WHOLE family ate that shit up. Both sides loving the fact that a leading lady was in the life of the family Golden child. First to go to a major institution outside of Va. And then continuing the legacy of my older cousin, who graduated from an HBCU. I upped the bar though, Morehouse College. But the bottom came hard, and You disappeared faster than the bottom fell. The girl from high school didn’t make it, the baby scare didn’t materialize, but I found a college sweetheart. I had two options I could take. One would be going the traditional way. Every Morehouse man hopes to find himself a Spelman woman. That’s the old saying around campus. And I had one on my hip out the gate, but I had a CAU chick too. And she was pretty dope, so I chose her. When You found out that I dated in college already and it was her. Your pride showed then too. She had resemblances to my mother. A former high school cheerleader, pretty, caramel girl. That’s the last time You were a Father to me. That was the last time You truly accepted me for me.

During my first summer vacation after starting college, I got tired of hiding and lying. I wanted to live in the authentic truth of myself. I began to explore that while I was in Atlanta, at Morehouse. Talking to beautiful, Black, gay men. Never engaging, always scared of being caught or outed, at the time. But loving the conversations and the intensity of potentially being caught. Now, I’m home on vacation and the itch is still there. I need to scratch it and why not do it here. Safer, and I probably will know some of them. Turns out, I did know a few, LOL. My coming out was the end of us. The family unit ravaged, the Father humiliated and destroyed. My mother torn between her duty to be a wife, by the side of her husband, and her natural, nature instincts as a mother, sworn to protect her child at all costs. In the beginning, siding with You, to Your delight, but ultimately growing, and understanding that her son was nobody’s mistake, accident, embarrassment or outcast. You, however, fell in line with the dumb bitches on Your side of the family, and behaved like the insulant adult that You always were. While everyone else around You evolved, accepting their nephew, brother, son, cousin, uncle as being an openly gay man. You sat there and showed the nastiest part of Your ass possible. Never realizing, Bitch, You have two gay sons! You always have! I been knew Your other son was queer. We talked about it so many times during my late teenage years. Yup, I’m gay and You lost Your shit. My Father, closed himself off in his room anytime my boyfriend came over. You didn’t eat dinner with the family, and my mother was left to look stupid as fuck because she has to explain Your grown ass Bitch man behavior. You didn’t care that You were a Father and Your son needed Your support. This was You. How embarrassed You felt because You have a son who likes to suck dick, get his dick sucked, fuck butt and get his butt fucked, by men.

For years You acted as the petulant child that I was supposed to be. My mother continually forcing You and Your “I am Religious” family to accept her son as he is. Not understanding that, a few of them at the table rock the rainbow, just like me… LOL. OOpps!! Consistency didn’t matter to You. Same man for three years and You didn’t care. It wasn’t a woman. NO titties, no pussy, no grand kids with Your name. The name whose name I was given, three years after my birth, didn’t want to be associated with me. Forced to interact with me or do things for me, because my mother or my grams got in yo ass. Sad and pathetic. Every time momma came to see me, You would take vacation and stay up there. Being the Bitch ass man that You are. What kind of Father doesn’t go support his hardworking, successful son? You have never, ever seen any place I’ve ever called home. And yet You live freely, comfortably, ably, every day of Your life. Never once trying to understand who I am. Where I originate from. You didn’t/don’t care. You told my momma that she shouldn’t be focused on her son. That I shouldn’t be in her house. That You are supposed to be her only focus. When she told me this, I immediately drew sadness and sorrow before I drew anger and rage. Sadness and sorrow, because for a man who had recovered from having a massive heart attack, and having heart surgery, You sure were very selfish and dissociative from the life You helped create.

Years passed and never did You make or take a step to heal or rebuild. Despite the numerous times I reached my hand out to You, it was always returned empty. Despite me knowing that You were cheating on my momma when we first got the computer and internet. You would get on the computer in my room and join chat rooms. Lying that You were 35 or 40, and that You were single. Trying to hide it from me and her. Not knowing, that, again, I’m always watching You. You were my first role model. Disappointing as You were and are, those are undeniable facts. You killed that so many times. Which brings us to the moment that doomed You for life. When all the final steps were taken to remove You from Us. Take the lineage back from You. What should have been Your proudest and most exemplary moment, turned into the most tragic and damning.

The memorial service for Your first born. First act of betrayal, You entered the church and saw the two of us, and You ignored us as though we didn’t exist. Sitting two rows up. She gave You a pass because this was the memorial service for Your son. Emotions can be quite high at this point. But the final move was the death knell. Exiting the church, You stand there greeting the guests who attending. Smiling, and shaking hands, hugging and comforting. You too, wiping the occasional tear from the cracks of Your eyes. You see her, and You straighten up immediately. Smiling and acknowledging her first, as she is in front of me. Speaking to a guest to the right of me first, giving enough time, in his mind, for my momma to walk past, he looks directly into my face, connecting my eyes and doesn’t utter a word. Doesn’t acknowledge my presence, except for the smallest tip of his hat, before moving on to the next guest. My momma had stopped to wait for me and saw the whole thing with her own eyes. When we got to the car, she asked me did You speak to me? Of course, I told her the truth that You didn’t and that was the domino that sealed Your fate. That sparked the changes in history that are forever etched. Losing Your right to claim that You have a piece of history. I entered under You, I exited separate from, detached from You, not my Father’s name sake, but My own.

What makes the situation worse, is that when my brother passed, You lied to my sister about having my phone number so I could be informed. She went out on faith, hoping that I had the same number she last had, which I do. LOL. We talked and she told me the truth. WOW, nearly 20 years later and You still have the same vitriol in Your heart that You would attempt to deny me knowing that blood family died. Yeah, some Father You are. That’s how I got to be here today. I really don’t have any male role models that helped grow me, shape me, mold me, develop me. My first ever boyfriend. That man did so much for me. He was the one that I drew so much from in my teenage/early 20’s years. From all the years of all those examples, watching tv, talking to friends, peers, classmates, teachers, and professors, I learned and developed myself into the Father that my kids have seen. I have a love for them that I can’t explain. They are beautiful people that I have had to learn how to be the present Father they need at each part of their journey. Being able to relate to Your sons is invaluable. What a Father gives to his son is something that can’t be quantified.

You have to be disciplined enough to not do when Your child wants You to do. They feel that they need You to do. There are times when You learn that always doing never allows them to grow to become doers. Loving enough to know when to back off. When to comfort and secure. Go reaffirm and substantiate them. So often we miss that mark. Always willing to be critical of someone, but not quick enough to give praise, reassurance, and comfort. Affirm Your children, they need to know that there’s support for them. Admitting to Your mistakes and wrongs. It’s okay to say I was wrong. It’s okay to admit that You have emotions You can become emotionally unstable. Admitting that You enjoy sex and have strong sexual drives. Being willing to share Your life and the story of Your life with Your son. They need that relatability. They need to feel comfortable to be themselves and talk honestly. Always thinking about how they’re feeling and coping with life and the obstacles that it throws. Never letting them get too far away from You. Always willing to give them space to grow and evolve. Allow them to develop so they can appreciate the lessons taught through silence and absence. Understand that a present Father can also step back, not to be uninvolved, but to disengage to allow You to learn and understand and experience Yourself. Actively present Fathers try to be Superman all the time, until they realize that they will need to be Jefferson Pierce, Black Lightning reference.

It doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes or realize that we could’ve done things different or better. It’s that we accept that we fucked up. Not because I wanted to, but because either I didn’t know, or I thought I knew, and there was another, possibly better, way to address things. Love is about compassion for those moments as well. I’ve made sure to teach my sons that lesson. It’s hard to do but it must be done. Confidence and knowing how and when to find it. Understanding the next phases of life. Understanding money management, social engagement, financial discipline and literacy. The importance of having a strong reputation and legit face card. Always willing to stare down the truth good, bad, and fucking ugly. Live unapologetically and genuinely. Accept only which You desire to, and don’t let down keep You down. Be resilient.

If You know me, like for real know me, then You know who I am. You know the way I live my life and how I choose to live it. Thank You to every Man out there who has Fathered a child. You were responsible for the creation of so many brilliant and beautiful people. To ALL the Fathers who are and continue to be present in their kids’ lives, THANK YOU. To ALL the Fathers who made mistakes that took You away from Your kids, but You’ve made amends, and You are there, THANK YOU. Every Father who sacrifices his life for the freedoms given in this country, THANK YOU. I hope today someone remind You of just how special and loved You are! Again, HAPPY FATHERS DAY

You ever had one of those moments where You’ve just come inside from working out, Your mind is flowing, Your muscles are stimulated, Your senses are heightened, and You just have an emotional and spiritual breakthrough??? Well, both hands raised high as fuck in the air. Today was a good Friday. Work was smooth and accomplished. After was well… after. LOL. Dumb shit from dumb asses. Then to the workout. Music thumping in my ears, zoned out enjoying the cool but humid air. Seeing the people go about their work to better themselves. The pure energy used and absorbed while lifting weights, strengthening my calves and cheeks, gaining lung and heart strength exercising. Melding physical excursion with mental peace. Brining the music home though and changing the vibe… Well, that’s when things turned, and I had to let my heart be open and my words become action.

Finding yourself also involves healing those wounds that were damaged along the way. When we lost our pillar and standard bearer, it fucked up the whole dynamic and won’t nobody really prepared for it. I love the responses of people who have a specific purpose. I am someone who has struggled in this world with myself, for various reasons. But when I accept my truth of life, I am as dynamic as I choose to be. I work on myself, and seeing the hurt still left in my family from her loss, and I just pray we can find and figure the way to unite together. Seeing and understanding Your pain and hurt, sadness and anguish, destruction and anger is so fucking difficult. You can and will rage at the world. Doing some unimaginable things because I wanted to and I was vengeful. I had so much heat to spew and never knew how or which way to let it out. The desire to be solo dolo, independent of, needing none but You. We do acquire this perception that for us to be as successful as we are, it must be done Alone. On Your Own without needing to depend on a sole. Forgetting that to live in this world, You must rely and depend on other EVERY FUCKIN DAY!!! How else do You think that You survive? When You drive Your car, or take Marta, or Uber/Lyft, You rely on others to make sure You arrive to Your destination on time. Understand that simple concept for just One fuckin second.

When You allow Yourself to find the peace and love of who You are, it becomes infectious, and You spread it wherever You can. Never trying to overpower or overstep, just offer the same feelings and energy that have permeated You since You allowed the past to end. Because You are who You are, everyone saw Your fall. It was humbling and humiliating. You were destroyed from the core of the inside of You. You went through the toughest times, and You saw that the village You have is strong, supportive, and resilient when it comes to You. Now, You feel that sense of purpose to return the favor. Understanding that healing is a powerful drug. It has the ability to restore what was lost. So, to go through life ACTUALLY thinking that You alone, have just moved life is stupid and ignorant. You never ordered food out? You never drove on a road with other people? You never went to school or work? You never dated? Had sex? The most arrogant and narcissistic thing You can do is assume that You never needed help in life. The understanding though, is that we’re self-sufficient and aren’t in need of assistance to function in life. However, there is a segment of the population that really thinks they do it ALL themselves with NO help.

Realizing just how devastated everyone is, has been hard. Primarily because I love these women and while some have moved forward, found happiness and shit, others have struggled mightily and continue flounder. Temporary happiness aside. Our family is so fractured. This set not talking to this set. Them over there staying away from those over here unless it’s a big fuckin deal. Two people over here talk to 2 or 3 people over there, so there’s some crossover, but not fuckin much. Group and family functions doing exist. Coming together for one event, doesn’t make shit solved. Especially, when the factions was on display the whole time. Only the guys could maneuver through the crowd. I know all families have bullshit and are splintered and shit, but we don’t have be just like them, do we? I don’t know how this will end. I’m prayerful that with my shove, these beautifully dynamic people can find full healing. We need it.