Tag Archives: jealousy

Today’s Word is… PARTNER


We can talk all day about sports and our favorite TV shows

We talk all night over dinner and TV

We give each other advice

We vent to each other

We make fun of each other

We make love to each other

Everything sounds ideal right….except these are all different people.

A girlfriend and friends.  Separate but unequal, obviously, but both very vital to me and in a way to each other.   You see, I’ve never been big on the whole be with your best friend narrative they sell on TV, I need a friend to be a friend, a lover to be a lover.  Took some trial and error to get to this conclusion,  I tried doubling down on a friend and losing, distancing from friends for my relationship and not being happy.  By human nature we’re possessive;  “why can’t I be X, Y and Z?  Or they view the friend more as competition than complement.  “I married my best friend” sounds sweet in wedding vows but in reality there’s homies, there’s lovers, and there’s friends.  I don’t need my girl to be my friend, there’s obviously a friendship but it’s…..different.

To love someone is to know them on a level that’s above friendship. The connection is intimate, it’s passionate, it’s sexuality feelings that shouldn’t be shared with a friend, otherwise what separates the two?  Now some friends might know some things your partner doesn’t know but your partner knows things they don’t like your bedroom finishing moves.  I believe there is room for 3rd party objectivity and that doesn’t replace normal communication between significant others. Everything doesn’t need to be said to one another, sometimes you just wanna say “______ getting on my damn nerves” and you know they gonna be all on your social media so you can’t vent there (more on that later).  Sometimes you just need a break when you really don’t wanna hear the same work stories or celebrity gossip, there’s a balance needed.  Sometimes you just want your partner to be your partner; if that makes sense. 

I ran this theory by some friends who disagreed.  They immediately alluded to cheating (because literally everything a man does without her is damn near cheating these days….but that’s another post, maybe.)  They want their man to be their best friend, the first one they talk about  anything with, they down to watch the game,  play XBox, text all day….cute, but no.  While well intentioned, the full court press on one’s social life does more harm than good.  My boy chimed in with “wifey material cut from a different cloth” (anyone else hate that word).  He has a point; there’s just something different in the way someone behaves when they want to be a partner and when they (even inadvertently) heading over to the homie section.  My theory on this is…..*Sopranos blackout*



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Today’s Word is… OH


Its a couple years back, I’m at like a Macy’s with my boy, he’s going off about some chick he’s dating.  I make some joke about how latinas be keeping box cutter blades in their cleavage

“I thought it was the mouth”

We turn around, it’s two women, one white and one of Hispanic descent. 

“Where do you keep yours”

“Keep making jokes you’ll find out”

This isn’t the story about how I got sliced up in a department store rather how I met…I think I named her CC in an earlier post. (this is #210 i forget things).  So yada yada yada, I’m dating/talking to CC now…

…or so I thought.

We texted frequently, went out on dates, slept with each other, but one day I look on Facebook and she’s hugged up with another man.


Well that’s interesting.  Of course, I inquire about this guy and how he hasn’t come up in our conversations, she explains he’s someone she talks to, like me, but he ain’t her man either so keep calm and come thru later.  That night I’m on my way home from her crib (don’t judge me, judge your auntie) a bit confused about what I been doing the past few months?  You mean I was single this whole time?  Throw on that Mark Morrison, its the Return of the Mack.


Well not really, ain’t nobody want my ass.  But I did start seeing other people outside of CC; took a page out of her book, I’m single until clearly stated otherwise.  One day I was out with I think it was “Ms Wit”, I get a text from “Her”, she heard through the grapevine I was at the mall with some chick #streetsiswatching.  I tell her that her intel is correct, last I checked I was single so she needn’t fret.


Oh; that realization that in spite of all the sweet nothings and assumed loyalty, they are not yours until you explicitly state so.  The realization sets at different times, some more often than others, in my examples it was stated rather bluntly but more commonly, it comes when they are claimed by someone else while you was asleep at the wheel.  Its the dark side of tolerationships, situationships, frielationships and any other term for gray area dating.  Relationships aren’t defined by feelings, they are by expectations. I could care about you, even love you but you’re not mine and I’m not yours until we talk that talk. 

The gray area is convenient, in an era of increased technology and ways to communicate you don’t realize how many hours you’re investing in someone who isn’t and possibly never will be yours.   I’ve got hit with a few “Ohs”. Entertaining myself cordial exes and boos and when something real comes along they have no need to play pretend with me anymore.   I can charge that to the game; if I liked it then I should’ve put a ring on it (c) B.G. Carter-Knowles, and I didn’t.  Maybe I didn’t want her as much as my ego is trying to convince me I do now…


Plenty of times me and CC could’ve had a talk about what it was we were doing, neither of us was concerned.  Me and “Her” knew we reached our climax but we were equally petty so we kept sabotaging each other.  I look back on all the pseudo relationships I had and when I think about why they never took that next step, turns out I just didn’t want to.  I’ll get jealous, maybe a little hurt, but then the cognizance sets in that if I knew better, I’d do better, and I did nothing.



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Today’s Word is… WORKHUSBAND


I’m walking downstairs from my place, in the entry hallway, a black car I don’t recognize pulls up in front.  Music blaring, I stand on the porch to see who it is, out steps “She”, she grabs her bag, cackling a storm.  At this point I’m just standing there, I had somewhere to go but I was put off by the situation, thought she wasn’t off for another 2 hours, wait…did she know I was going to be here…..Nah she’s knows better.  She interrupts my thoughts and says hi, I take her bag and kiss her deeply then give dude a head nod, because I’m petty.  Now its been about 180 seconds you’d think she introduce me to her chauffeur, he pulls off we head upstairs.  I forget what I was doing but yeah, I got questions.

“Oh you know Phuckthisdudesname, he works in security, I got out early and he gave me a ride on break, thought you would be at the gym”

Aha see I knew she didn’t think I was home, what if he was going to be invited upstairs……Nah she knows better.

Anyway, as time wore on I would hear more and more about Phuckthisdudesname, some funny story that wasn’t really funny, alluded to his frequently on her twitter (i wasn’t snooping we actually just followed eachother, I don’t believe its a big deal). I’m not really a jealous guy and I trusted her, so I would tease her with it more than actually be concerned.  I had an inkling that he did like her, not that he had a chance (he wasn’t her type and um, she had me duh).  He definitely tried it, as most work husbands do….they sneaky like that.

I said there was a double standard between workwives and workhusbands because men ideally are the pursuers.  I’ve been the #workhusband paying all the compliments he forgot to.  I see plenty of them in play at work, standing at her desk, grinning ear to ear about to ask her out to lunch, his treat.  He has some wild dating story that conveniently places him as the good guy that is only unchose because he is just too sweet.  Just this past Valentine’s Day, I got my Valentine a dozen roses, work husband her a single one, guess who was not bout to be whisked around town with a bakers dozen of roses.  Nah, yo. 

Moral of the story, #staywoke.  Got to call the Mrs at lunch because work husband trying to take her to a 2 for $20, got to leave her a couple dollars or she’s going to be bumming cigarettes (actually, don’t date smokers, bleh). Even if the work husband doesn’t size up, he represents the large portion of men who think she’s fly and doesn’t see the annoying nag with bonnet and wifebeater.  Old work (i love/hate this term, it seems rude but it humors me) is always newness to somebody.  Appreciate your lady, or #he will…..

Hell, or even I will.



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Today’s Word is… WORKWIFE


“Do I know you”

I turned around at the query. 

It was a woman I work with, not directly but we’re in the same building. 

“Um, yeah we work together.” (I mean I thought I was pretty well known there -3 for the ego). 

Anyway we chat for a bit on the train, she goes her way I go mine.  Now she knows who I be, we see eachother more often and talk regularly.  I’ve told you about CoWorker before, she’s the homie.  We’ve had our back and forths (partially convinced no woman can like me longer than 4 months at a time) but overall we’ve developed a pleasant friendship. Nothing more, nothing less. Sure, there’s a rumor or two floating, double takes when we accidentally matched or you saw one without the other, but we ain’t listen to what people say; they ain’t know about her and me. And so we put it out our minds cause it’s jealousy, they don’t know about this here.

She was just a workwife, contrary to popular belief. This arrangement wasn’t necessarily new to me, all through college I had at least one woman to serve as incentive to go there on time (also study buddies are cheaper than buying textbooks #protip). Workwives help the time go faster, moral support, they understand the struggle because they in it with you, especially helpful when you don’t give much fux about your job. A Vault.com survey says about 60% of professionals in my field have copped to having some sort of work spouse (the other 40% Ima need to see gChat/Outlook receipts). It makes sense, even the most anti social person cant show up somewhere nearly every day for 8 hours a day and not make a single interpersonal relationship.


When boundaries arent set...

I’m a firm believer that men and women can be platonic friends, maturity breeds discretion; every woman who smiles at you does not need to get that work. Of course, I can beat that drum all I like, I still have to sell that to a Mrs. (Yeah yeah I hear you woman who doesn’t get jealous, is sooo cool with her man having friends, you’re an amazing unicorn). For the non unicorns its a matter of being open and setting boundaries and sticking to them. You never want to “find out” anything about someone you’re seeing that isn’t from the source. I’ve always been iffy on this notion of “emotional cheating”, there’s a difference between telling her something I should be telling my actual s/o and my s/o just wanting to be Walmart and be the go to for any and everything. I don’t even like to discuss work outside of work, sometimes I don’t want to explain an inside joke to an outsider, sometimes an objective opinion is necessary. I think that makes sense, but you know logic and love is oil and water sometimes.

Boundaries should be straight forward, don’t do couple-y shit. There’s a difference between grabbing lunch and going on a date, IMing at work and texting all night, telling a story about a date gone wrong and venting to workwife about your real one. Just like I don’t take work home, I don’t bring home to work. She’ll always be “fine” whether that is or isn’t true. Don’t start none won’t be none.

With those parameters in place, workwives are a welcome escape from the work grind. As a work husband, I try to be the same, and keep savagery to minimum. Of course thats just how I am. (Now who’s playing unicorn?). Somewhat of a double standard, but workhusbands are not to be trusted. Why? I’ll tell you why…….next post.


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Today’s Word is… JEALOUS

I was grabbing coffee with “coworker”, she runs into an old friend.  They talk, flirt what have you, I’m chilling sipping my coffee, I’m apparently invisible and whatnot.  He goes about his business, she can see me again, She apologizes  immediately explains who he is.  I don’t care. She seems a little peeved I don’t care,  She goes on explaining how she would feel if roles reversed and I could’ve brought up the whole incident at the mixer but decided not to.  Instead I countered 1. We’re friends 2. Stan Gemini (well I used my actual government name) doesn’t get jealous. “All men say that but be the first one acting crazy”.  She started to tell a story about a jealous guy she dated, I can’t say I was listening fully.  He did something reckless and I thought would I ever be pushed to such foolery.  She smiled as she recalled, while it was stupid, she felt special, even in reminiscing I could see that.

I find jealousy more annoyance than flattering.  Mostly because it’s usually over something that ain’t that serious.  Whether it’s an extra cookie or a friendly event planner I forgot to call.  Jealousy is typically based off things you can’t control anyway and if you can, then just do it and you would have nothing to worry about, hakuna mutata.    But of course, people never see things the way I do.  They want to be able to reassure, and laugh at your foolishness, they want jealousy (in moderation).

I try to appease but I can’t, logic just wins every time.  You and I both know he has no shot, and if he does then it’s out of my control anyway, why react?  Besides that I’m weird, When I get angry, I get rude and sarcastic and make fun of you until I feel better. I used to laugh at “She’s” other suitors, like is that my competition? Cool.  Or Maybe it’s not logic, it’s arrogance.  Shrug life.

It wasn’t always that way, however.  Younger me was definitely the jealous type, but still too proud to show it.  Me and “Her” had more of an assumed relationship, so the prospect of her moving on was always there.  There was one guy in particular her friends brother who was clearly more convenient than I who was away at school.  They had been off/on before I came into the picture, and to her credit, she did kinda go back and forth between us.  While I was clearly the better option, he had history on his side something I just couldn’t match. She was my first love, I her second.  For a while, I let that eat at me, tried to control something I couldn’t, the past.  I became creepy and possessive, it went from cutesy to out of hand.  I was so scared of losing her I gave her away.  Convinced myself it was what she wanted anyway.

It all came full circle, as my later girlfriends would feel that same type of way about me and her…I never win. Anyway, where is the line drawn between taken for granted and insecurity, jealousy and genuine feelings of concern? I think I’m right in the middle (well it’s my blog I’m always gonna take my side), while I’m not the jealous type I’m not completely oblivious to the fact that I’m not the only person who sees the awesomeness in my boo/girl/friend. Flirt, check her out, ask for her number in a coffee shop like you already knew we weren’t together, I’m chilling. I pick my women wisely (give or take a few) so it’s basically pulling a sword from the stone.


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