I kissed boys at bars. I gave out my phone number. I texted old hook ups. I loved having these secrets from him because for once I was doing things that he didn’t know about, and because he didn’t know, he couldn’t judge me.
At any given moment, at least two of my coworkers are involved in a sexual relationship. Put thirty young, attractive people in a room together week after week and it’s bound to happen.
From the driver’s seat, everything in the car looked and felt different. I felt the constant churning of the engine in my ample backside, I could anticipate the
changing of the traffic lights for the first time, and a sense of power washed over me.
To all the black men I’ve loved, I’ve loved you in the flesh because you were real.