Jungle Fever: “When a non-black person is attracted sexually to black people. Originally it was used for when a white woman dates black men, but now it could refer to a white man who thinks black women are hot and wants to date them.”
A Stevie Wonder song about black man/white woman love.
“She’s gon’ black guy crazy
He’s gone white girl hazy
They got jungle fever”–Stevie Wonder.
It’s been nearly a month and I’m going crazy. I miss her. She’s so beautiful and sweet. She’s an absolute pleasure to be with. A calm, loving, grateful, sexual, amazing woman. I haven’t seen her in three weeks.
She is crushing it in her life. Finals at Temple destroying her life just like all of the other girls at that damn school. Raising her son, working at CHOP as a medical assistant and the pediatrician’s office and everything else she’s dealing with.
She told me today that she got a flat tire on her Saab. That’s horrible but she said as bad as her life is, she says it could be worse. I like that because that is how I live my life, with positivity. Cherie is my sweet match.
I love her optimism. Maybe she got that from me but it doesn’t matter, I just want her to be okay.
I’ll see her tomorrow at 4pm after a long hiatus.
Sometimes I think she’ll just give up. Far away. Distant factor. Right side of thirty. Beautiful black girl. Me… white guy in his mid fifties.
I’m prepared for her to bail. I’m writing this now in my home office, listening to the band Morphine and thinking she should just bail on me. Distance. Time. Age difference. She’ll just decide it’s too difficult and I’ll be dead in the water.
She’s young and beautiful like Michelle and Annabelle and she’ll just wise up and just go.
I think about that on a weekly basis. That’s a real thing when you’re a middle-aged bachelor.
It feels like love and mad sex but it all could end if at 27 she wants a husband and more kids. You’re done. I’m dead. I’m alone. I have to start again. Or not. I say that she was the last one and it was great, but I’m finished. I’m out. I’ve punched all of the holes in my romance card, an it’s over.
If this one fails. I think I’m done.
That’s a real thing for guys my age.
But I’m not like guys my age. They’re scared and insecure without game. I’ve worked hard to build game. But that could also be my undoing.
Men my age try to surround themselves with affluent things that mean nothing.
Cars, gadgets, shoes, suits, watches, lifestyle. It’s all bullshit. Just build the powerful you to move forward with nothing but your own powers and the women will notice. Most men can’t do this.
But you have to practice guys. Get to know women. They’re great. Talk to them. Listen. Love them. Let go of whatever you were taught and just get to know them.
I’m having brunch on this rainy Saturday with my dear friend Alice who blew me off for drinks and quizzo last Wednesday. I love Alice. But the weather sucks. I would love to take her to the craft show in Rittenhouse Square this weekend. But the weather could take a dump on our plans.
It’ll happen because she’ll feel bad that she blew me off so she’ll do it. But I don’t even care because I love her (as a friend) and I want her to do well in her business.
All I need to do is get Cherie at 4pm and make sweet love to her.
I have a giant umbrella for me and Alice for the craft show but all I want to do is get Cherie at the train station and take her home and tear her to pieces.
My time with Alice is important. I love hanging with her. But I need to get to Cherie.
That’s the magical time.
That’s the time that everyone in the world wants.
That’s the time that everyone envys.
That’s the time that everyone regrets.
That’s the time everyone wishes they had again with their current partner.
That’s the time that you only get once but wish you could have again and again.
I’m not wrong. You all want that. What if you could have that again and again just as good as the first time? That would be the perfect drug for us all right? Can you have her or him again and again and it always feels like the first time? That shit’s magic.
That’s my life. Cherie and I built that together. I’m lost in that.
We’re always wishing for the first date. The euphoria. The excitement. Then they’re gone.
But this time she stays.
But also stays away. Just far enough to love her. And it works. Its magic together, but I’m alone. I like that. She’s busy and can’t be with me. I’m okay with that. I like it. She’s a nymphomaniac and I love that.
It’s not all of the time. I need my alone time. She’s busy with school and life. So am I… busy building a business. I have finally found a balance that works for me.
I love you, Cherie.
See you soon.
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