Apologies for the late submission. I've had this in my computer for ages and I forgot.
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Dear diary, you're not going to believe me when I say, it finally happened. Even I don't believe it myself. I'm still in a whirlwind, so to speak. The confusion and panic have died down now, and I've had ample time to reflect on things. I feel guilty. I also feel ... something else.
Ok, let's go back to a month ago. Or maybe further -- years back. I got dumped my ex husband. We were mired in financial difficulties, all because of his fucking gambling addiction, and one day I woke up and he was gone. He had taken most of his stuff with him too. I still remember that day, how much it hurt me and my kid, Jason. How I put on a brave face for Jay, and then cried in the privacy of my bathroom.
Yeah. Sucked that bad.
Lucky for me, I had my best friend and next door neighbour, Debra, to lean on. She had gone through the same thing last year. God, men are such filthy pigs.
Unlucky for me, the experience of losing my husband, no matter how full of shit he was, slung me into a terrible state of depression. On the outside, I was fine. I got a new job as a nurse, got a bank loan with Jerry's help (Debra's brother), and got my son enrolled in a better school. I even sorted out my financial problems. On the inside, I was complete wreck. I was dating worthless men and having one night stands with idiots I met at clubs. The only person who knew what was really going on was Debra, cos she's my best friend and I tell her everything. Even when I don't tell her stuff, she knows.
Debra tried to help me. She didn't judge me. She knew what it was like to walk in my shoes, and understood all too well how I felt. You build a life with someone, have a kid for them, and despite their shortcomings, you stick with them regardless. And how does that person repay you for your loyalty and love? By kicking you to the curb. It makes you feel unwanted. Insignificant. And then you start jumping from man to man, seeking some kind of approval; trying to prove that even though the asshole you loved so much left you, there are still a million other men out there who want you.
Debra's patience and hard work paid off eventually, and I became a whole new person. The good thing is Jay never found out about my noxious, immature behaviour. Thank God for that. The bad thing is my encounters with these men aided in the growth of a rather unhealthy attraction for black men. I'm not saying black men or black people are bad or unhealthy, just that I've become desensitised to sex with white men. Reason: I don't know. Maybe it's because during my state of madness most of my sexual partners were black men, or maybe it's because my ex husband is white and I'm taking it out on the entire white race (lol j/k).
Honestly, I can't say for sure why I've become this way. A while back Debra introduced me to this white guy and we dated for a while. He was a really nice guy, a keeper, and God knows he was well-endowed. But nothing he did in bed pushed the right buttons for me. We broke up after three months. I dated another white guy, and the result was the same. All this time I found myself ogling black men on the street or at work.
I'm single now, and I haven't tried dating a black man. Why? I mean, if I'm so attracted to them, why not date one? Because whenever I look at a black man I think about sex. I don't think about a productive relationship that could lead to something special, like marriage. I think about raw, hardcore sex. That's not what I want. I'm a mom, remember? I've got a kid. I should be thinking about what's best for both of us, which is a stable, happy family: me, Jay and a great guy.
Well, guess what? Yesterday, I fucked up every chance of that happening anytime soon.
In case I didn't mention it before, Debra's black and I'm white. Debra's son, Chris, is black too, obviously (duh). Chris and Jay are best friends. Their tight relationship mirrors mine and Debra's. They're the same age.
I've been an aunt to Chris since forever. I remember taking him to parks and pushing him on swings. I remember taking him and Jay to Disney world. Those beach vacations, babysitting sessions, birthdays, school visits -- I was there. I've been a constant in Chris' life. You can say he's my second son.
So it was a little alarming when I began noticing him as more than just a kid. It started about a month ago. One afternoon I looked at him through my bedroom window and I saw a strong, lean muscled, attractive boy. I wasn't
that
drawn to him, in a manner of speaking. I didn't think about sex with him or anything like that. I just saw him as a handsome young man.
One day Chris and Jay went off to camp and Debra and I celebrated our momentary freedom from parenthood. We drank wine, watched chick flicks and gossiped. We gossiped about a plethora of things, but the main topics were dating and men. Somehow we got to talking about boys or men significantly younger than us. Debra said she was so frustrated with today's dating scene that she wouldn't mind getting a toy boy. I laughed at this and told her she could have Jay if she'd loan me Chris.
I know it sounds like an inappropriate thing to say, but that's how Debra and I talk. Ever since our boys hit puberty we always chatted about how handsome they had become and how many hearts they were breaking at school.