I don’t have many rules as it pertains to love mainly because I always fail so miserably at it. Why set rules when the outcome is almost always a predetermined epic fail, right? I’m not quite sure what happened with my DNA structure when it comes to love and relationships, I come from a family where love has gone right 95% of the time. I mean we all have that one uncle that got married and divorced every time the moon phases changed, but other than that Uncle that I have that lives on the west side of the city that I hope doesn’t read this blog because he will know I’m talking dead at him, love has been a constant with my kin. My grandparents were together 56 years before my Grandfather died. My parents have been together 48 years and haven’t managed to throw each other off the deck in the back yard. My older sister has made it 22 years and even as a young man at their wedding I didn’t give those fools 10 years before they were on the way to dividing marital assets. And the list goes on and on…
And then there’s me.
For all my charm, wit, decent enough looks, and manners I can’t catch a break with this love thing. I’ve had some awesome relationships but for whatever reason they haven’t panned out. Typically you shrug it off and move on to the next one, but after the next one and the next after that and still the next one you have to consider the common denominator…that would be the smiling blogger before you! But, perhaps it’s because I keep forgetting and conveniently breaking the only rule I’ve ever set regarding love and that rule is to never, and I do mean ever, take interest in a woman whose first name ends in the letter “A”.
First and foremost, this is an issue because there is a general rule of Blackness that if you have a baby girl, her last name is going to end in “A”. Think of 10 Black women you know and tell me your results. I’ve had heartbreak in my life, several times over, but no woman is as adept at breaking a heart as a woman whose name ends in the letter “A”. They have this unique ability to like you, then go out with you a couple of times, then like you a lot, then write you great emails saying she can’t wait to see you, then draw you in – and just when you start to think to myself that “Hey, that’s a stupid rule you set up! Her name ends in “A” and she’s great!” – she starts to fade. She won’t call, then she won’t return phone calls, then she gives you the “it’s not you it’s me”, then you find out she’s humping some dude in some Mid-Atlantic state all while you thought she was into you. Then you remember the rule that you wrote in your journal years back after Erica, Malikqua, Lisa, Malika, and Greta did the same thing to you and know that it’s your own fault for trusting the evil “Ends With A” women.
I’m certain that there are some good women out there that have a name that ends in “a”. Perhaps it’s some compatibility match flaw that assures failure if the guy ends in “n” and the woman ends in “a”. One could theorize ad infinitum but I don’t have that kind of time. Not much I can do I guess other than avoid any woman whose name falls into the dreaded criteria. Until then I’ll just stay patient until an Angie, a Marie, an Ingrid, a Karen, or a Michelle shows up on my front steps. 🙂