Wednesday, August 09, 2006

On my way to work this morning, I realized that I have only been in love one and a half times. Shortly after that, I realized that I have told women that I have loved them much more than one and half times, which is dead wrong, but not always my fault. I know I loved my on and off girlfriend of six years, but that really was never enough to keep us together. But I'd do any and everything I could for her, sometimes at my own expense. That was and still is love. The jury is still out on whether I loved my college girlfriend. We were both 20 when we seriously got together, and by the time we split up we were allegedly grown and 23. I really don't think about her too often, and the last time I did, there were no butterflies, no special feelings, no nothing. That counts as half of love in my book. That's it though. I've said I love you to avoid awkward pauses, I've said I love you to expedite the sex process, I've pulled a George Costanza and said it first just to see what would happen. Other times I like saying I love you at the end of a phone conversation, just because it seems like the logical deep conversation ender on those nights when saying "goodnight", "one love" or just "one" is insufficient. If I could conduct a conference call or roundtable discussion with all the women I've said I love you to and not meant it, I'd deeply apologize to each and every one of them. I feel a little guilty, but I'm sure someone has said it to me and not meant it, so that's fine. These things have a way of evening out.

I'm going to a Nationals game tonight to see my main man Dontrelle Willis pitch. When I watch Willis pitch it reminds me of how I use to feel when Dwight Gooden took the mound back in the mid 80s. Dwight was young, brash, cocky, damn good and high as hell off coke. But every 5 days, when he would take the mound, it seemed like the world would stop to see what he was going to do. I was living in Connecticut at the time, and since we didn't have a baseball team, I lived vicariously thru the up and downs of the New York Mets, specifically Gooden. Once cocaine, alcohol and injuries prematurely ended his career, I never really rooted for a player like that. Barry Bonds was and still is intriguing, but he's an ass. Since Dontrelle entered the league back in 2003, he has captivated me in a Dwight Gooden like way. He's not quite as good yet, but he's getting there. It feels weird being on the jock of a player who is younger than I am....shit, he should be wearing MY jersey.

3 comments:

soft and subtle said...

Wow!

Jo said...

Okay Rashad, this was deep. You went from deep emotional shit to SPORTS (?) . . .WoW! That's deep man, deep. You hurt a lot of people with this one; I am sure. But, at least you had a venue on which to put it out there. I commend you for being honest . . .but maybe what you wanted to say was not so much that you didn't love them, but that you weren't in love with them? Not sure, but I would love to converse with you on this one . . .I am certain I would learn a thing or three in the process!

Anonymous said...

Well put 4idgit. At least this man knows he's not a real nor good man. I just hope the sisters' he prey's on can smell a dog in heat coming. We got enough men showing their ignorace unintentionally, Rashad went to the lowest point and showed that he does it on purpose. Way to go brainiac! May you get the love you give.....