#RelationshipGoals: Wait, He Likes Men Too

1471281824610-cachedOur society allows women to be bisexual without batting an eye, but a bisexual man is like a mythical creature we’re just not willing to accept.

Kendrick and I met online, back when Myspace wasn’t laughable and was indeed a legit place to meet a friend, lover, discover a new band or just create a page that was all about you. Remember?

He was thick, as if Paul Bunyon was in his family tree. His voice always made me quiver (When was the last time you quivered–like Olivia Pope when Fitz or Jake walks into a room?). It was deep, always assertive and lively. The way his voice vibrated in my ear would rush a shade of red into my cheeks that every MAC-enthusiast would kill for.

Kendrick and I would flirt like we were addicted to one another. Good morning texts (if our phones were still alive after marathon chats all night long), daily check-ins to see how the other was doing and the occasional photo-share were all part of our courting.

Sometimes in our conversations, Kendrick would find various ways to bring up men and I would mull over the thought briefly and push it out of my head. When talking about celebrity crushes one evening, Kendrick mentioned his lust for Lauren London and then created a fantasy around her taking him to a Hollywood party, where in various rooms, celebrities like Will and Jada Pinkett Smith, Russell Simmons, Diddy, Rihanna and more were having sex with one another in a big, fat orgy that he enjoyed watching.

Kendrick had this way of creating verbal scenarios that made you feel like you were watching a movie. My mind allowed me to traipse from room to room, taking in the freaky vignettes.

“I slowly opened the door to a room at the end of the hall and in it, I see Diddy and Will Smith naked together, their dicks…” At that moment, I swear a record screeched somewhere.

It wasn’t during the evening on that phone call, but Kendrick and I disconnected and completely lost touch. My memory fails me on what forced us apart, but whatever it was left the door that I usually leave open, closed and padlocked.

Throughout our time apart, Kendrick would show up randomly in my online life. LinkedIn would suggest him, Facebook thought I knew him and he’d always end up commenting on a friend of a friend’s random Instagram post. And while seeing Kendrick’s face would stop me in my tracks, I’d always keep scrolling, trying to combat how much I wanted to give him another try (because we all know I’m the mistress of a second chance).

Eventually, Kendrick ended up finding his way through that closed and padlocked door. I was scrolling through my messages on my OkCupid account and I saw his face. His signature smirk was enhanced by an aged intensity in his eyes. I recognized him immediately and time had been kind to him. He was debonair, but still rocking his hair in a funky, coiffed afro.

I smiled at him on my phone’s screen and when I opened the message, the butterflies were instant and his only words were:

“Let’s stop pretending we don’t remember each other and actually be friends.”

That one message reopened our line of communication and Kendrick and I were a thing again. Not sure exactly what we were, but we were like white on rice.

Until we weren’t.

Seven years had gone by, and now Kendrick and I considered ourselves to be grown. Our desperation to find a partner had led us both to dating apps. “At least the people on here are willing to date, ” I told Kendrick when he asked me what I was doing on OKCupid. “I could ask you the same,” I laughed.

“You could, but you didn’t.” Kendrick LOL’ed after his response. Then, he gave me his phone number and we started texting and talking non-stop. Because he now lives in the Midwest and I’m in New York City, talking is a major part of our rekindling.

One night, in the wee hours of the morning, Kendrick said, “I just need consistency from you, Danielle.”

I was almost offended. I started to protest the request, then I realized that he was just asking for my time, regularly. That’s something that I’ve been wanting the men who I date to offer and request of me, but no one has. Kendrick was going to be a mature experience, I just knew it.

One night, during one of our many phone sessions, Kendrick suggested that we try phone sex. The thought excited me. The suggestion was vintage enough to feel naughty and intimate enough to feel sexy, so I was down. Plus, let’s not forget Kendrick’s gift in creating sexy scenarios with only his words.

Kendrick delivered his sexy talk in the way that I remembered from years prior–detailed, raunchy and … with men!

Read the rest on Madame Noire!

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