Bad Romance/Back 2 School

Single tonight, just like the song says. I look at myself in the mirror, and barely recognize the man who stares back at me. A six-foot-one, broad-shouldered, slightly chubby but still ruggedly handsome young Black man stares back at me. The haunted look on that face, I can hardly believe it's me. It's the first Saturday of September 2012, and I've just stood up my date for the movies, a young Afro-Caribbean woman named June. Why would I do such a douche bag sort of thing? Simply because she had it coming, ladies and gentlemen. I care for her a great deal but she doesn't appreciate that about me. It seems that when a man thinks he's found a good woman and decides to treat her well, women always mistake a man's kindness for weakness so they abuse his trust and treat him like shit. Well, two can most definitely play that game.

That Saturday started out fairly interesting. I was checking my messages on my Fido cellphone and got a message from my landlord, an old white dude named Keith. He said that my asshole of a roommate, a Haitian bastard named Lenny, informed them that after a year with me at the apartment on Donald Street, he was moving out. Hell yeah. Good riddance. I decided to put the apartment up in search of a new roommate a day ago, just in case Lenny was moving out. I'm so glad I'm going to be rid of him. He's a mean-spirited bozo who doesn't pick up after himself, and never takes out the trash, he also never does the dishes or clean the washroom. I do all those things for both of us because I'm not a motherfucking pig. Lenny has no shame. He and that portly white girlfriend of his, a Russian chick named Natasha, have definitely got to go. She doesn't pay rent because she's not on the lease but she spends EVERY weekend and holiday with us. And like Lenny, she's not the cleanest person in the world, let's leave it at that. Lenny is mouthy and mean, his girlfriend Natasha is dirty and slutty. Bad combination for me, the third guy in this unholy triumvirate. They made me feel depressed every time I came home, for real.

It seems to be my lot in life to put up with people who take advantage of my good nature. When I first met Lenny, he seemed like a cool guy. I met him through my asshole of a cousin Nicolas, a real piece of work who goes from job to job, woman to woman, mooching off of people. Well, people who let him anyway. I think by now you're getting the idea that my home situation isn't exactly ideal. Since the early days of the summer, I'd been seeing this tall, lovely young woman whom I met at the movie theater. June. You should have seen her, man. Tall, sexy and fine. Her pops is Haitian and her mother is from Trinidad. A nursing student at La Cite Collegiale. We met there, and seemed to really click. We began going out, and everything was fine with us. Finally I was going out with a chick who shared my interests. June and I got the same taste in movies. We both enjoy action movies and science fiction flicks. June doesn't go for the girly type of movies like Twilight and the romantic comedy of the week. Nah, that chick was cool for real. I honestly was starting to fall in love with her. A hot Black chick who likes to go Dutch at the movies, calls a brother fairly often and treats me good most of the time. I thought June was a keeper, man. From the month of June until the end of July 2012, those were the most magical times of my life.

Understand that relationships and I simply don't mix. I honestly can say that without batting an eyelash. A lot of guys say that because they're the player type. They go from woman to woman, bed to bed. They can't settle down because they don't want to settle down. Me? I was just the opposite. For real. I longed for a relationship but I just couldn't seem to meet the right gal. I'd gone on dates with chicks of various ethnicities. Black women, white women and even one Punjab chick from the Republic of India. Always I tried my best with these ladies. I'm always super friendly, generous and absolutely wonderful with the ladies who come into my life. It doesn't matter if you're just a friend, a girlfriend or more, I believe in respecting women and treating them well. I guess someone forgot to tell me that women don't appreciate men who treat them well. They prefer dirt bags and thugs to nice guys. Why is that? I don't have a frigging clue, man. I couldn't tell you why women throw away good men and take up with jerks. Is being a jerk a sign of masculine prowess in the eyes of most women? Maybe. Who knows what goes on inside their brains? Whatever.

Anyhow, here I am at home. June and I were supposed to catch the 5 : 40 PM showing of The Expendables 2 at the Blair Cineplex in the east end of metropolitan Ottawa, Province of Ontario. It's the first Saturday of the month of September and it's still warm. It still feels like summer. The summer of 2012 belonged to a beautiful Afro-Caribbean gal named June and me, Stephen. The Boston-bred Haitian guy who fell in love with her. I called her my ebony goddess, my Cleopatra and my Nubian queen. I treated her real good. I was always respectful, generous and kind to her. I tried to protect her from her worst self. Whenever she had a problem, I was either there or I told her I wanted to be there. Taking care of every need and fear. I thought that's how a real man treats a woman, you know? Not for me all the player bullshit that so many young ( and not so young ) Black men espouse. I was the good Black man. The nice guy. The one who tries to save the day.

How did June repay my kindness? At first she was cool, and everything was alright. We went to the movies together, dined in nice restaurants. I even showed her parts of my life I usually keep from women. I gave her a signed copy of a book I recently published through the publishing company AuthorHouse. The story of a young African-American college student and all-around nerd who falls in love with the biracial daughter of a wealthy Irishman who married a Nigerian woman. Set in Boston, the novel explores the complex issues of race, class, romance, sexuality and the intricacies of African-American middle-class life in the modern United States. The book is doing really good on Amazon.com and when I gave it to her, June seemed to really like it. Hell, she even posted a link to it on her Twitter page. Because of her I joined Twitter. I only used Facebook, as far as social networking sites went. Yeah, I would have done anything for that gal. Once upon a time.

Starting in August, my sweet June's behavior began to change. We used to call each other all the time, and then all of a sudden, the call ratio was split seventy/thirty. With me calling her more often than she called me. We used to spend more than ninety minutes a day on the phone talking to each other. What the fuck was going on? We used to see each other at least once a week. Movie, museum, bowling alley, you name it. Now I was lucky if I saw her once every couple of weeks. All of a sudden, I was lucky if I talked to her on the phone fifteen minutes a day. She became sullen, and morose. Totally withdrawn into herself, always complaining about her problems with her mother, her cellphone and computer bills, and the fact that she wasn't getting enough hours at work. I told myself to be there for her. That's what good men do. You stand there and support your lady as she goes through a tough time. You lend her your support. You don't turn tail and run. Yeah, I did all that. And you know what? June didn't seem to appreciate anything I ever did.

What did I get for all my efforts? Um, let's see. June cancelled some of our dates at the last minute, bitched at me on the phone while I was trying my hardest to help her, and ditched me to chase after some so-called friends of hers who clearly didn't give a damn about her. June doesn't let anyone get close to her. Not even her girlfriends. It seems that whoever gets close to her, she hurts, and then chases someone else. I tried my best to help her, I really did. I put aside my feelings, ignored my own needs, and put hers first. Some female friends of mine warned me about her, but I didn't listen. I put June on a pedestal. Well, um, that shit got tired really quick. Through the month of August, I was mister supportive for the lovely miss June. Well, today, the first day of September 2012, I declare that we're through. We were supposed to meet at the movies today, and she informed me of a change of plans.

No, she didn't cancel. For a change. Rather, June informed me that she wanted to bring someone else along for our date. Let me say it before you do. What the fuck? I haven't seen her ass in ages, she cancelled our date for the movies the previous Tuesday, I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk at last, and she wants to bring another bozo along? I couldn't believe this shit. I pleaded with her not to bring another guy along. As usual, June wasn't mindful of anyone's needs except her own. Look, before you people reading this accuse me of being the poster guy for jealous boyfriend magazine, understand a simple truth. There are certain times in life when a man needs to talk to the woman in his life...alone. Times when a third party's presence would be most unwelcome. I tried to stress that to June, but she wouldn't listen. She told me she expected me to be at the Blair Cineplex in Ottawa's east end at the agreed upon time, and that was that. Well, um, no bitch. I'm not your lapdog. Anymore. I don't have to go. So I won't go.

That's why I am lying in my bed right now, trying hard not to think about June and the good times we shared in June and July of 2012. Why did she switch personalities in August? Seriously! The whole time I was with her, I was all about her. I stopped flirting with random chicks, and I stopped asking women for their numbers. I was focused exclusively on June. The gal I thought was the one for me. Dude, I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Still, I miss her. You don't give someone three months of your life and expect to just forget them in a matter of hours. Still, I've got one thing going on for me. In a couple of days, I go back to school. I'm entering my final year as a Criminology student at Carleton University. As I walked through campus earlier today, I saw so many new students. Lots of hot-looking ladies among the new faces. Arab women. Black women. Aboriginal women. Hispanic women. Indian women. Chinese women. So many pretty ladies of all hues. They're looking mighty fine. September, and I'm on a campus full of women. Somehow, I think I'll get over June. Oh, yes, ladies and gentlemen. I believe that I will.