Men

So... still up. Thinking about this conversation I had with my grandma... well, the events after rather. After that convo, which is a different story entirely, she gave back the phone to Melissa, and she of course asked if I wanted to talk to my first known dad, Steve Mitchell and my first known grandfather Pops. Neither wanted to speak to me. Not at all. Didn't take the phone, didn't say hey Monique. Its so regular of them to do that. I think my brother just felt bad (it showed) and thats the reason he spoke to me.

I have always said this: The men in my life, they almost always leave. My real father left before I was born and I accepted that at such a young age and certainly too soon after I found out at 13. Steve Mitchell, the man with whose last name I have, the man I knew as my dad; the man that had men himself, left me because I had respect for both my new step-dad and real father. It was he who literally threw the fact that he wasn't my real father in my face because he was mad at my mother. He tainted my confidence in men at that moment I realized that he was truly acting out of spite.

Even still, I respected him, still called him dad and he abandoned me. Taking my sister and brother on trips and leaving me behind. Pops as well wouldn't take my calls, hung up on me when he did accidentally answer the phone. Even then, I never said fuck you, I swallowed hard and kept loving the memories, loving the time when they loved me; when they called me their granddaughter. At the same time, my brother moved in with my dad and that caused a fatal error. He believed Steve Mitchell and Steve Mitchell said I didn't love him anymore. (right, #whatparentdoesthatshit) That was my brother... we were BEST FRIENDS when I was a kid. I wanted to be like my bro; I climbed and fell out of trees (in a beehive once) just to be around him and he left me too.

Fast-forward to when I gave myself to my boyfriend, and thinking that was a bright idea, I realized soon after my own power. No, not in my pussy (duhh) but my spirit with men in general. Men gravitated to me no matter their age. Every man at my job liked me. Gave me good references. My boss, Sam Walker especially gravitated towards me, just as a friend and introduced me to his entire family, including his nephew, Jesse. Now Jesse... is probably the most important man outside of my family in my life. He is regarded by all my friends that know him, influential, caring and resourceful. Has an asshole side that I adore and respect. We ended up in a relationship that lasted 3.5 years, which had its issues.

While this was going on Dad Aaron got so angry with me because I grew up... its interesting how that happened. He went at great lengths to make me feel horrible and it worked. Calling me out my name, kicking me out of the house, throwing my shit out the back door. Probably the worst was after I did leave, he showed up at my new place at 11 o'clock on a Friday night and dropped off my shit... on the street. Told me to "Get Jesse to help you" and drove off. Thing is Jesse was in Oregon with his family. I lived up 3 flights of stairs. Yeah... mind you, I lived on 37th and Telegraph near West Mac. People who know Oakland knows thats a regular Vice City. But I went on again and sucked it up, moved my shit alone, as well as went on loving him. I didn't say fuck you Aaron. I should have, but no...

Then Jesse cheated on me. In Thailand. He called me. Guilty conscience ass... we couldn't survive. So, at the heels of the bad phase of my relationship with him, I went on a hunt to rekindle the relationships I had with the men in my life - my 3 dads, grandpas, etc. Aaron, pop-fly behind the catcher and caught... Steve, out.... David, base hit... Pops, out. (David is my real father.) A country man with a whole new family that loves me no less, but its a bit hard when you find that the dad that left you while you were in the womb still went on to have 4 more kids and a beautiful wife. It was intimidating, but also painful. So, I digressed and found myself having a lot of fun with just figuring out me and men sexually. Yeah, a lot of fun... Until I met Ahmed. He was supposed to be just something that happened, but then I realized he wasn't at all. Further, I fell in love with him, thought he was the one, never feeling like that ever in my life.

And he rose to the occasion. Beautiful and creative gifts, public displays of affection. Showing up at my job with Valentine's and singing balloons. He loved me. I loved him. I just knew he wouldn't leave. But we know what happened. He couldn't understand my personal torment and left me. Just like Dad Steve, Dad David, Dad Aaron, Pops, my older brother, etc., gone.

I'm not going to talk about the useless men... the ones that went into situations with no regard, or the ones who took advantage and did hurtful, mean and fucking illegal shit to me. Those fucks don't count. They contributed even more to my inability to connect with men and the pain they caused is something that I'm working with but ... sigh. I just can't write about it again.

I used to cry, "they all leave me" in my bed at night. As a teen, I was so sad when it came down to it. I thought about my attraction to women, and thought maybe that was for me, but I knew that's just not an option for me. I love men too much. I just want them to love me the way I do them. Even the gentlemen I've met this year in school or FB or Twitter. I didn't mention by name, but you too... I want your friendship and I hope you don't leave.

So you see, my foundation is a little fucked. I have always managed to try to make up for this.  Being nice and resourceful, lending an ear and time. Making sure you are happy makes me happy so I do what I can. But the sad part is while I do this, its not returned equally. Instead, most of them do leave eventually. I've kind of gotten used to it. But yeah, it hurts. But its like I always do, I swallow hard, I wipe my tears and I keep hold to the good. I still believe in you men. I bruise but I heal too.