The Future

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.”

― Corrie ten Boom

Prior to the pandemic, since I was 50, I had been dying my beard black because I wasn't ready to embrace the grey. Once when I decided to let my hair grow on my head just to see if I could still grow a full head of hair, I saw the gray and decided it would be easier and cheaper to continue to shave it bald. Maybe because I had been shaving it bald since I was in my 30s and my barber said I had the shape of head good for baldness, but besides the grey color, I didn't like hair on my head. Anyway, during the pandemic I was able to work from home and since I wasn't seeing people, I didn't have a need to color my beard at all, and I was thinking; 'I'm 56. Why am I kidding myself? A black man in his late 50s with jet-black hair?'  I decided it didn't look realistic, given my advanced age, and yet, I'm 59 now and the gray is now white. That, I am not ready to embrace, but I guess I have to. Ocassionally I'd let a little grey show, when I ran out of hair dye, and women would say it looks nice. Personally, I hated it and I didn't want women to think I looked as old as I was. 

But I'm 59 now.

I didn't become the person that I wanted to be, and now I'm in the process of re-inventing everything about myself. I'm not going to embrace the white hair though; God-willing I'll wait until I'm in my 70s before that happens. I'm going to find a hair stylist to dye it salt & pepper. Getting old is awful and painful, but the alternative is death, and I chose getting old.

The two things I want more than life itself, I know that at 59, I have to accept that I will never have. I have tried relentlessly but I am convinced it is not in the cards for me. Most likely, I will never find love. I also will not have my own biological children. Periodt. End of sentence. It hurts. I can't think of anything more to say besides, whenever I die, I'm pretty sure I will be alone. In my bed, probably, in my sleep, with my Iphone beside me-

Travel Music

  Goodbye   Tevin Campbell

  Still A Thrill   Jody Watley

  Lady Cab Driver  Prince

  D M S R    Prince

Your Love's Supreme  Chante Moore

WildSide   Normani 

Warmth   Janet Jackson

If A Girl Answers, Don't Hang Up  Vanity 6

The Glamourous Life  Sheila E

Fine   Whitney Houston

Glow Up  Mary J Blige

Free As A Bird   Dwele

Soul Sista (Remix / From "Queen & Slim   Bilal

Benefits   Musiq Soulchild

Butterflies  Michael Jackson

Rock With You  Michael Jackson

A Couple Of Forevers Chrisette Michelle

High   Ledisi

Let Love Rule  Lenny Kravitz

 Atomic Dog  George Clinton

More Bounce To The Ounce  Roger Zapp

Can U Help Me    Jesse Johnson

French Blue  Janet Jackson

Lose Control Missy Elliott

On & on  Missy Elliott

WTF   Missy Elliott

 Vivrant Thing  Qtip

 1 Thing     Amerie

How I'm feeling, today.

 I didn't become the person that I wanted to be, and now I'm in the process of re-inventing everything about myself.

My spirit has been broken for years, and I'm tired of trying to fix it. 

I used to dream of having a wife and kids, and a dog to come home to; since I love to cook and bake, the fantasy was of a wife and kids coming home to find me in the kitchen making their favorite foods and having a cake in the oven. Sometimes I dream of myself and my wife flying to Paris, Milan, Accra, Ethiopia or other places to take cooking classes. I used to have this fantasy of having a son that can't wait for me to come home because I promised I'd go to his football game or having a daughter that can't wait for me to come home because she wanted to help me make a dessert to bring to school the following day. As I write this, I'm getting emotional, by the way. My love language is cooking and baking. There is nothing in the world that I enjoy doing more, and having a wife and kids for whom to cook and bake- that's heaven to me.

As I get older, the fantasy becomes less and less of a reality; I'm gradually accepting the fact that I will never find love, Even if I do finally  find love, I doubt anyone will believe it. I've always been seen by myself, and I don't talk about past situationships as they are so rare. In about 6 weeks I will be 59; the most realistic of my fantasies is having a dog or cat to come home to. I've always had my sons' and daughters' names picked out.

Now those names will be the names of my pets.

Future Expectations

 

My level and amount of communication will equal yours.

I'm not going to waste any more time wondering why I am always the last to know a family issue.  I'll just accept that I am not important  

and I 

will match 

that energy. 

Periodt. 

-me

35 days

 So, I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and I was thinking about something. 

I was thinking about having mailed my rent today, like I do on the 10th of every month, so that my landlord will get it by the 16th, which is the due date. It's considered late by the 20th. Only one time it was the 20th and she didn't get my rent. It got lost in the mail, and she texted me about it. When I showed her a picture of the receipt which showed the amount and the day I got it, she asked if I could send her a replacement. She got impatient and drove 30 miles to the house to make sure that she could get the replacement right away. 

So, I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and I was thinking about my mortality. I was thinking about - if I died in my sleep tonight, how long would it be before anyone would discover I had died. 

I know the answer; the 21st of September. Yes, a little more than a month would pass before the first person would know, and that would be my landlord. She would've gotten my rent by the 16th of this month, but not for next month. She would text me on the 20th of September, and when I don't respond, the next day she will drive to the house to look for me. If my housemate is around she may ask if I was home and he may say he hasn't seen me in a few days. She may knock on the door and call my name and when I don't answer, she will use her key to open it and will find me, underneath my covers, dead.  That's right, it would take 35 days.

 That's the reality. 

People may have texted me during the time but my not answering them might not be a cause for worry, despite the fact that I respond to people immediately. I can text some people and days and months can go by before I get a response. My mom though- she gets upset when I don't respond right away to her voicemails. She wouldn't know who to reach out to, in case of an emergency. 

So, before I go to sleep tonight , I'm going to write individual letters to my closest and dearest friends and family members and put them in self-addressed stamped envelopes for my landlord to mail should she find me in that 'situation', and on one sheet of paper, compile a list of people for my landlord to call/text.  Should something happen. Because you never know.