One Last Cry

 I'm no Barbie, but his name was Ken...

We met on Bumble at the beginning of 2023. He seemed super cool and understanding. Cute, funny and down to earth. A seemingly sweet Cancer man with the same birthday as my mother. When we met I was separated from my husband but still legally married. I was honest with him from Day 1. He was about to move back home with his parents at age 40 in Mississippi. He thought I was going to be some fast, fun, fling. He thought wrong.

We had so much fun on our first date. We saw each other a few more times before he moved. We started talking on the phone everyday and every night. We started falling hard and fast. I ended up asking him to be in a relationship with me and he agreed. Things started to go downhill from there. Ultimately, he was battling his feelings with his image. He really liked me. He thought I was an amazing woman, but the fact that I was still married on paper conflicted with his values. I had even filed for divorce in February with a court date of May 8th. That didn't matter because Ken wasn't all in with me.

I'd met his mom, he'd spoken to mine. I'd met his youngest son, and even spoke on his church's Black History Month program. We talked about marriage and I had bought us a couples workbook that we worked on a few nights per week. I'd met his friends and even waited up for him in my car while he went out and partied with his friends. I had even convinced my friend to drive me up to Mississippi to visit him. I bought the air bnb and paid for the travel. He contributed nothing.

We made love, french kissed, and even bathed together. But, Ken insisted that I forced him into the relationship. He even tried to look down on me because I was a married woman dating him, not because he was divorced and dating a married woman. 

I really liked Ken. He had four children by two or three women. He moved back in with his parents at 40. He had a voice like a gay man. But I liked him. He was tall, dark and handsome. He was silly just like me, and we would just laugh and joke and chit chat for hours. I miss the connection.

But it's not ok to play the victim role as a man. We both knew I was married. We both consented to being together. He wasn't comfortable with himself. He was going against his own grain. It was his internal fight with his demons, not mine.

I'm not dealing with that confused energy. It's hurtful and it's toxic. Plus, I don't want my man's voice to be as high as my high waisted pencil skirt.

Boy bye!