Why Do I Have to Think Like a Man? (6 page)

Several times he called and said, “Let me take you to dinner. I have something to show you.” I eventually agreed, and we met at one of our favorite restaurants. While at dinner, he presented me with a court document that showed he had filed for divorce. He said, “I know what I can live with, but more importantly, I know what I can’t live without. Rhonda, I don’t want to live without you. I don’t care how much it costs me to get a divorce, I want you to be in my life for the rest of my life.”

I started dating him again, feeling that he must be sincere and really care about me if he has filed for divorce. He continued to go home for work and claimed that he was staying at his parents’ house during the divorce. Almost six months passed, and I heard nothing more about the divorce or the divorce proceedings. I didn’t ask. He didn’t tell. We kept dating, until one day I asked about the status of the divorce. The look on his face told me everything. The responses didn’t make sense. The lies poured out. I knew then that neither he nor the situation was going to change, so I had to change.

Needless to say, he never got a divorce. I began to see him merely as a friend. A friend whose good deeds still allowed him into my space but whose lies tore at the core of my belief system about men and relationships. His contract in Atlanta unexpectedly expired and he eventually moved back to his hometown. But to this day he still makes my life easier from a financial standpoint. Why? You ask. Maybe he feels guilty, I don’t really know. To this day, I am in awe at the degree to which he lied to bring me into his life and keep me there. It is surreal. Had someone told me that a man, over 55, would or could lie so much to have another woman in his life, I would have never believed them. In the end, I didn’t get mad. I got real. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Never, ever again!

Dating a married man is always lose-lose. Even if you win financially, you still lose. This type of relationship is not long term. It merely satisfies immediate or short-term needs, while preventing you from finding something more permanent. My story isn’t yours. Perhaps you have or can find a fulfilling relationship with a married man that completes you. If so, you have to take that journey. These stories are out there, and they are real. It’s up to us to learn what to do and not do and how to deal with the men in our lives. Say what you will, but don’t hate the player, hate the game. And if you must blame, start at home with the person standing in the mirror looking at you.

Chapter 3
The Single Guy

Rhonda

A
hhh, the single man. What does that really mean? There are married men who say, “I am single.” There are legally single men in committed relationships who say, “I am single.” There are also “single men” who are really living alone and single by all standards. I’d like to give a shout out to the “real” single men! While most women have experienced each of the types of “single men” described, this chapter is about the “unmarried, single man who lives alone.” This chapter is brief. If a guy is truly single, there isn’t much to say. Yet, be aware that
single
doesn’t always mean
sincere
. Before all of you women shout
Hallelujah
at a man truly being single, or the one who says he is single, remember that being single offers no guarantees. You just get to skip the drama of dealing with another woman. That’s all. No more. No less.

I’ve been divorced since 2004. Months after leaving my husband, I decided that I would not only find dates the traditional way—at the office, the store, restaurants, or other places—but that I would also try online dating. So, I created a profile on one of the more popular African American dating sites. I also created a Facebook page. Not only did my dating options increase a hundred fold, but so did the drama that comes with the highs and lows of dating after forty!

Every day, I would get lists of possible dates from the online dating site. The list was so long that I could go out on a date almost every other day if I accepted the invitation of each potential suitor. Girlfriend, this type of dating makes you feel like a star. It seems like everybody wants you. The screening process, however, reduces those numbers to double digits, then to single digits, after a few conversations or e-mails.

One day, after more than a month of e-mailing and talking to a handsome fifty-year-old bachelor with a military background and a prominent position in his home state of Alabama, I took him up on his offer for a dinner date. He then planned a trip to Atlanta the upcoming weekend. Although his profile said “not looking for a relationship of any kind” and “just chilling and having fun,” I figured once he saw me in all my “loveliness,” he would want a relationship.

I loved talking to him on the phone. He was smart, grown, established, old-fashioned in some ways, witty, engaging, and verbally affectionate. He called morning, noon, and night, on breaks, and in the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t sleep. “Hi, baby girl,” he would say, or “Hi, doll,” and then the conversation would just take off in all directions. We talked about everything from kids to jobs, life, aging, music, and relationships. We also talked about our past marriages. It was open, fun, and fulfilling.

As if to mesmerize me with his words, he warned in the most gentle and soft-spoken voice, “You will love me; you won’t be able to help it. I am a gentleman. I present myself well. I will give you my undivided attention on every date. I’m affectionate. I will treat you well because I understand women. But remember, I am not looking for anything. I like being single.” This was all new to me so I didn’t pay much attention to his words.

We went on our first date, at a very nice restaurant, and the conversation was great. He was just as funny in person as he was on the phone. He made jokes about me being late to dinner, and we talked as though we were old friends. More handsome in person than in his pictures, he dressed with style—nice slacks, great shoes, a stylish hat, and he smelled amazing. Towering at six foot one, he was physically fit and had beautiful white teeth to go along with his smooth, caramel skin. A perfect gentleman he was indeed. After dinner he walked me to my car, and while holding my hand, opened my car door, put me in, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. He thanked me for being his date and told me he wanted to see me again. I thought,
Thank you God! My knight in
shining armor has indeed arrived!

We talked often over the next month. Then he came to town to visit me and take me on another date. This time we met at the Georgia Aquarium; we held hands, walked, ate lunch, and talked for hours. He was incredibly attentive and sweet. We parted and agreed to meet later that evening. That night, I met him at his hotel and got into his car to head out for the night. I was late and we were both hungry. He took me to a great lounge type restaurant, a place near the area he was staying. The dinner was superb and he duplicated everything he did on date number one and more. This time he sat next to me at dinner instead of across from me. He continuously kissed my hand at the table and looked me in my eyes as I talked to him. Becoming even more comfortable, he gently draped his arm on the back of our booth. We had a few drinks. I had a couple of margaritas, and he had a few Long Island iced teas. We were having a great time. The energy was amazing.

The restaurant’s ambiance, the chemistry between us, and the comfortableness we shared with each other made it impossible to leave this man. Yes, I knew it was “going down” on date number two. After several hours of enjoying the band, each other’s conversation, and our drinks, we went back to his hotel and had a great time.

The next day, we talked three or four times throughout the day. We spoke warmly about the date, while joking about different aspects of it. I didn’t call him; he always called me. It was safer for me that way. Clearly, he must have had feelings for me.

Several more weeks went by and we went on another date. This time we went to a local sports bar to watch the Final Four games. I love sports. We didn’t stay out too long. He had a six o’clock wake-up call for work. And instead of him staying at a hotel, I invited him to stay with me. I had the house to myself that weekend. This time we made what I would call “love.” Afterward, we cuddled, talked, and enjoyed our time together. It felt so “normal” To have him in my room in my house. He got up very early the next day, kissed me goodbye, and went to work.

Ironically, after this visit, our conversations became less frequent. Instead of four to five calls a day, it was more like two to three. I had more feelings for him and he was calling less. During some of our talks, he would gently say, “Look at you, willing to give your heart to me. Baby girl, you gotta be careful. You are too sweet and too precious. You gotta learn to protect your heart.” I disregarded every one of his comments. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I let him know that I really liked him. I didn’t know what to make of the constant calls, and the sweet conversations at all times of the day and night. Yet, our relationship wasn’t growing. I didn’t know what to think.

Disregarding his initial warnings, I still proceed as I would with any other man who I believed was genuinely interested. I will never forget one day when I was on my way to Los Angeles for a quick getaway to see my daughter. He and I had just spoken while I was driving to the airport. He called, like he often did, and told me that he would be out of the country for several weeks for work and asked what I was up to. I told him I was traveling to Los Angeles. He seemed mildly upset and said, “You’re always going somewhere; stop being so fast.” I took his comments lightly. We laughed and chatted some and then he wished me a safe trip.

Just before taking off, I made my final calls and sent my texts to loved ones to let them know that I loved them and that I was on my way to Los Angeles—a practice I do before every flight, just in case. On this trip, however, I also sent Mr. Alabama a text and for the first time, I said, “I want you to know that I love you. I need you to know this, just in case something happens on this flight.” Then I turned off my phone and endured my four-hour flight. I couldn’t wait to land, not only because I missed my daughter, but I couldn’t wait to turn on my phone and see what he said in return.

When I arrived in Los Angeles, I turned on my phone— and guess what? I had messages, but not one damn response from my knight in shining armor! Not one! I could confirm he received the message because I set my phone up to show when messages have been read (y’all know what I am talking about). I have to be honest, I was a little disappointed. No, I was
a lot
disappointed. Surely he felt something close to what I felt, right?

Okay, so the next day I was getting dressed to go out when Mr. Alabama called me (mind you, he was out of the country). We are chopping it up like we always do and somehow we get on the topic of love and somewhere in that discussion he says, “Baby girl, it’s not like that for me.” With my self-esteem in pieces and my mouth slightly stuck in the open position (like “Oh, My God”), somehow I muster up some discombobulated conversation, a little laughter, and then told him that I was headed out “to make it do what it do.” We closed out the call cordially and I went out.

Do you see any red flags or confusing messages? Although I had read many relationship books including Steve Harvey’s,
Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man,
I fell for someone who clearly stated, in the beginning, that he didn’t want a relationship! He maintained his “single and loving it” position, even though he was very attentive and warm toward me. Yet, I didn’t want to see the signs on the wall. This goes back to Chapter 1, “You Can’t Change Him.” Both people have to have their minds and hearts in the same place to consummate a mutually exclusive relationship.

So much for Mr. Alabama; back to Facebook. Just as I completed my Facebook page, I got a “friend” request from an old college boyfriend from California. I will call him LT. I couldn’t believe my eyes! My bodybuilding cutie pie still looked great! He told me he had “been looking for me for over twenty years.” I was ecstatic. I needed a distraction from the confusion. He asked for my e-mail address and telephone number, and I gave them to him. Later that evening, he called.

Although Mr. Alabama and I continued to talk from time to time, I began talking to and eventually going to see my old college sweetheart. Mr. Alabama seemed a little taken aback when he found out I was talking to someone else. “I didn’t know you were going to start dating so soon,” he said, in a very gentle voice. “You are moving too fast, baby girl.” Excuse me? I wasn’t moving too fast. I was getting over one man with another. It felt nice to be wanted.

LT was dark chocolate, five foot ten, forty-six years old, and funny. His smile was killer. Skin smooth as silk. His body was better than I remembered. When LT and I first began talking, I made it clear that I didn’t pay for trips to see a man. If he wanted to begin seeing me, he would have to make it possible given we lived on two different coasts. LT sent for me several times over the next few months, including a trip to Vegas.

On a visit to Sacramento, my hometown, LT took me down memory lane. He kissed my hand while he drove me to the college where we met. He hugged me in front of the school hall where he used to carry my books to class. He looked in my eyes and reminisced about details that even I had forgotten. He drove me to the home that I had lived in with my Mom—I would have never been able to find that house! When we pulled up, I think I saw tears in his eyes. He drove me by his old apartment where we spent many fun days and nights. In my mind, I hoped I could get over Alabama and engage in the romantic story that was evolving between LT and me. LT suggested that I write about it after the wedding. Yes, I said wedding. He had asked my ring size, told me, “I am never letting you go this time.” Talk about being overwhelmed! For several months, we spent quality time together. He massaged my feet as I watched television. He held me, talked to me, and made me laugh. He was fun and sexy.