Love Hiccups

I know ya’ll think I’m crazy. You know I think I’m crazy sometimes too.

But it takes some form of “crazy” to dream with the intensity that I dream with, to take the leaps of faith that I take and to love so deeply like I do.

I miss him.

I didn’t want to admit it cuz my friends already call me a stalker. ~blushing~ I don’t know. I try to explain to them the benefits of having an imaginary love.

1. He will never say the wrong thing.

2. He looks great every time I see him (in my mind).

3. He will never dissappoint me.

4. It brings some sort of satisfaction and at the same time keeps me out of trouble because I am uninterested in other men while I am in love with him.

My friends just laugh at me but I don’t mind. My fantasies keep me busy. I’m sure I’ll get over it soon enough. Just think about the men I’ve loved…JB. Remember him? I’m so over that. Remember DL Dell? I rarely ever think about him except to laugh and congralulate myself on the upgrade in my fantasy love affairs. I’ll move on, hopefully soon, but for right now I’m still in love and there’s nothing I can do about it but pray that I can let go.

Ruby dedicated this song to me recently…And I found it very fitting.

I remember the first time I saw him.

I was at this event in Houston. It was called the Power Summit. It was an AMAZING event. There were so many Black CEO’s just pouring out wisdom about entrepreneurship. Everyone was so nice and friendly.

I was pissed off because my co worker showed up over an HOUR late and I was there a half hour early which meant I had to sit in the lobby of the event for an hour and a half like a dork, waiting for her ass. I hate to be kept waiting! When she finally got there I thought I would snatch all of her dreads out. But instead I asked God to help me forgive her and I had to bless her so I could calm down.

We were seated in the banquet hall and the hostess gave her introductions. Then lunch was served and everyone was mingling, except for me. I’m not good at walking up to random strangers and starting conversations about nothing. But my co worker was and I sat back in amazement as she engaged people in the most interesting conversations.

At one point I was sitting there and my co worker leaned over to me and pointed to the table next to us. There was a light skinned man sitting there playing around with his cell phone.

“That’s The Prez,” she told me and pointed to him. “That’s The Radio Man’s son.”

Ugh… I was instantly unimpressed. If being The Radio Man’s son is his claim to fame, I feel sorry for him. I rolled my eyes in his direction and said, “So?” Men don’t impress me easily.

The host, a local television anchor woman announced that the keynote speaker was held up in New York and that The Prez would give the keynote speech in his place.

I rolled my eyes. “Ughh…What does Redbone have to say?”

They read his bio and I stared at him as he approached the stage. He stepped forward confidently and begin to introduce himself, explaining how he came to hold the presidency of his company.

The judgemental frown fell from my face as I listened to his voice, strong and engaging. I wondered if anyone else could hear my heart beating fast. As he moved through his speech he challenged me, entertained me and encouraged me all at the same time. I literally felt like I had just had secks when he was through.

I couldn’t believe it. This dude’s communication style was impressive. Dare I say, maybe even as good as mine. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to be his friend and at the same time, strangle him for daring to be as well spoken as I am. Who does he think he is?

As everyone rose from the table to head over to the conference hall for the first seminar, I rose from my seat trembling. Oh shit. I have to go interview this dude. I don’t know what to ask him, he’s so smart. I dont want to look like I’m dumb.

My heart ached as I trudged outside to the lobby. I prayed that I would dissappear. I prayed that I would be sick. Anything to get me out of standing face to face with this man who had succeeded in twisting my mind up.

As he walked out of the banquet hall, everyone seemed to attack him. I stood and watched as people took pictures with him and tried to get his attention and introduce themselves. I was dumbfounded. Who the fuck is he? How dare he get so much attention when I’m standing right here?

I tried to compose myself as he came closer. Every two steps he took, someone else stopped him. I knew that I had to at least say Hi so when I saw him alone for two seconds, I walked up to him, smiled and introduced myself. I don’t even remember what I said. Something about being an inspirational journalist, blah, blah, blah…

“Well,” he said and smiled down at me. “I hope you’re coming in the media room with us.” He reached into his pocket and produced his business card, handing it to me and I passed him mine with a grin.

“Ms. Tee,” he read aloud while looking at my card. “Alright.”

I walked away at that point because more people were vying for his attention. I stood on the sidelines and watched as people complimented him and asked for his contact info. I was so frustrated because my tape recorder wasn’t working AND two of the pens I had ran out of ink. I couldn’t think of a single question to ask him so for me, being there as a reporter was pointless.

We didn’t go into a media room. Instead he sat down on a small couch and other reporters asked him questions about random topics. I stood there in my dress and heels, my notepad in hand, leaning against the wall, praying that I could think of just ONE QUESTION to ask.

What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I think? I wanted to cry.

At one point I was shocked when a reporter asked him a question and he replied by saying, “Take Ms. Tee for example, she’s going to be a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist..blah blah blah…”

I was confused. First of all, YES, I AM going to be a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist but since you’ve never read any of my writing you have no business saying that…unless you were…flirting with me? Is he flirting with me? Or is this what they call schmoozing?

His responses to all of their intense questioning was so fluid and eloquent that I was experiencing emotions that were a mixture of jealousy, admiration and lust.

And then he did it again…”Ok guys,” he told the other reporters. “This will be your last question because Ms. Tee may have something she wants to ask.”

Ughhh! Stop flirting with me! I wanted to throw him on the floor, jump on top of him and strangle him for being such a wonderful communicator.

But after their last question, the PR coordinator grabbed him and led him away. I sighed in relief. I didn’t have a single question to ask him.

We walked over to a room and as we walked in, his pace caught up with mine. He looked over at me, “Ms. Tee, did you have something you want to ask?”

I gulped. “Let’s have secks RIGHT NOW!” I thought. Ahh… SECKS, the equalizer of all men. If he would agree to do it with me, then I could lump in the “all men want is secks” category with everyone else and I wouldn’t have to be so…infuriated by his swagger.

Ofcourse I didn’t say that. I just shook my head NO and walked over to a small round table with a telephone in the middle of it. He sat down and I sat to his right. The PR coordinator sat to his left and a photographer was there snapping pictures of it all.

We held a telephone conference with the keynote speaker who was stuck in New York and all of a sudden my mind broke free from bondage and I happily chatted with the man on the phone, asking all kinds of great questions and enjoying his responses.

When the PR coordinator took her turn, she asked both of them some crazy questions like, “Old school or New School?” and “Boxers or briefs?” I looked over at him and watched him blush as he responded with a dramatic guffaw, “Boxers. I like to let my chain hang low.”

Ewww…. He’s a dork. I must do it with him right now to reduce the pressure on my heart. He’s not special. He’s just like everyone else. He’s just a man… Who happens to have a gift with communication. And happens to wear the kind of glasses that I like. And happens to be a little nerdy too. Which is turning me on right now…

I was so angry at myself for allowing this feeling to take place. I wanted to strangle him, toss him in a cellar and tie him up so that he would stop shining so brightly.

“You two are two young single bachelors, what’s your definition of love?” the PR coordinator directed the question to the keynote speaker on the phone line and The Prez.

The Prez seemed uneasy as he answered. “Well, when I think of love I look to my brother and his wife who are happily married…blah blah blah…I love the work I do and the fact that I can wake up every morning and look forward to meeting new people everyday. I never know who I’m going to meet,” he replied. “For business..” and he looked over at me, “Or personal.”

I was fuming. I’m the one in charge here buddy. You don’t flirt with me! You don’t lead me on. You don’t throw hints as though you got it like that. I’m in charge.

I wanted to cry.

I hate that I find him to be magnificent and he could possibly be playing games with me. Maybe he treats every woman he meets this way. Maybe he’s a player and flirts with every pretty face he sees. I refuse to be one of the crowd. I’m Ms. Tee dammit!

No one takes my breath away… Not this easily.

Help… I want my Mama…

Afterward I left the room silently, feeling like I had just been punched in the stomache. I sat down in the lobby and pulled out The Game Of Life to encourage myself. As the current seminar released its attendees I called my friend Tonya to tell her about the wonderful summit and how beautiful everything was.

I went inside the conference hall for the CEO roundtable. I chose a seat on the front row, ofcourse, and I absently nibbled on a cookie as they began. As I surveyed the panel of CEO’s, The Prez was sitting there on the far end. My gaze caught his and we both looked away.

All of the panelists gave such juicy information about starting businesses that I felt like I was being FED a hearty meal.

At the end of the day, I left the summit feeling challenged, yet empowered. I went back to the hostel and called my friends to tell them about my day.

“Was dude flirting with me?” I asked my friend Marsha after telling her the previous story. I wanted her to say YES so I could chalk him up to another man who wanted to hunch.

“Maybe.” she replied. “You never know with those types. Was he cute?”

“Hmm…I don’t know.”

“Oh…He must be light skinned.”

I laughed. “Yeah..He is.”

“I don’t know why you don’t like light skinned guys, girl.”

“They just don’t do it for me.”

I went upstairs and laid out on the bottom bunk in the dorm. I talked myself out of being upset about being attracted to him. “He’s just a man. You will be friends with him. You will learn from him and you will move on. He can’t hurt you if you don’t let him know how you feel. He’s just a man.”

The next day I visited his company website and casually clicked on all of the links. When I saw the ad for Internet Marketing Manager I read the description and thought, “That sounds easy. I could do that.”

Two nights later I couldn’t sleep because the job description kept dancing around in my head. Around 2 in the morning I crept downstairs to the common area, revised my resume and sent it in. And finally… I felt peace.

And I rested.