Category Archives: breaking up

Going Nowhere Fast, We’ve Reached Our Climax

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Heed the signs ninja.

One of my absolute favorite songs right now is Usher’s “Climax”. For various reasons: 1) its a sadly beautiful song that most people I’ve talked think has to do with sex, which I find humorous; 2) Diplo did the beat and I’ve never heard him make something so subdued and sleek; and 3) I’m just glad to hear Usher back making quality music instead of chasing trends. Usher’s had a fairly non-monumental go of it the past few years. Culminating in him jumping on the dance-music craze and making songs where the artist doesn’t matter at all because the music is what people know. Though, I can’t front “OMG” was my sh*t. But you could have given that to David Hung and it would have been a hit.

The main reason though (aside from just being dope) is because I’ve been there. The lyrics of the song are about two people who have basically reached the apex of their relationship and are letting go because the lows kept getting in the way of the highs. And neither person wants to give in so they let go. And sometimes, that’s what you have to do.

This might go against what everybody always preaches about the ability to work through things and that being the true definition of love. And maybe it is. But the TRUTH of the matter is that sometimes, you’ve made it as far as you can as a unit. Sometimes the best relationship decision that you can make is to “love each other separately”.

Every relationship has highs and lows. We all know this. The only way to thrive in those relationships is if the highs are higher than the lows are lower. For some odd reason, people seem to have an issue with letting go though. No matter how low we’ve been, we just need one high to convince us that we can regain all of those high moments that we had. We’re all relationship crackheads. One hit of possibility can erase all impasses we see in front of us. At least temporarily. But it allows us to believe in the potential. We have to right? That’s how we even got there in the first place, the potential. But maybe, just maybe, there is a climax to certain relationships.

I think most people know if the relationship they are in can make it. Or they at least have some idea. A lot of us hold on because we don’t know how to let go so we just stick around for whatever reason hoping to be convinced in one direction or another. That’s a somber way to look at relationships, but I don’t know that its totally off. Yes, you have people who are absolutely crazy in love and thats beautiful and something to aspire towards. You also have people who KNOW they should let go but refuse to do so for whatever reason. And that’s not a man or woman thing, its a people thing. We refuse to believe what we know; that we’ve gone as far as we can with this person because we’ve gone through too much to go on, and too much to go back. You’re at a place where you are ACTUALLY at the climax of your relationship.

When you get there you either choose to stay and slide back into the negativity, or you break up, move on, and miss that person while accepting that you’ve done what you had to in order to live your life being able to breathe. For many of us, love is our air. When you’re in a relationship with somebody that you love, being with that person is like breathing. For better or worse. If that relationship ends then you can’t breathe on your own…you need a ventilator of sorts which can be family, friends, a journal, etc. But eventually you have to choose to learn to breathe without that person. And that’s the circle of life. Everybody has been there. Love can make you feel 9 feet tall or make you feel as if you’ve been beaten up with a brick.

But you learn to breath again. The world ends until it starts again. And it always starts again. The key is to realize when you need to lock in for the long haul or when you need to bail so that you two can both move on and remember, but never forget. It is totally possible to go nowhere fast in a relationship. The sooner we all realize what type of situation we’re in, the better.

Recognize the climax. It’s okay to love somebody forever. But you have to realize what that love is costing you. It could be your forever.

So, VSBers, have you ever been in a relationship where you realized it had an expiration or had reached its climax? Were you able to let go for the betterment of everybody involved? Or did you have to learn the hard way?

Do tell.

-VSB P aka THE ARSONIST aka MR. WE WERE TOGETHER, NOW WE’RE UNDONE aka GIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL HE A 3

Real-Life Relationships You’ll Never, Ever, Ever, Ever See In A Movie

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"Why are you smiling?" "Just thinking about how lucky you are that I like your cologne."

I’m generally a fan of things Jason Segel has a hand in — “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” “Knocked Up,” etc — so it didn’t take much convincing for me to go see “The Five-Year Engagement” a few days ago. Without giving any spoilers, I’ll say that I enjoyed it but was somewhat disappointed by the fact that it started to veer into “Whoa. I’ve never seen this relationship situation really addressed in a movie before“ territory — which I greatly appreciated — but then got a bit more Hollywood towards the end.

Now, I understand why movies do tend to inch toward the “Hollywood relationship.” Although we bitch and clamor for realism, we still do generally want to be entertained and feel good at the end, and showing certain types of “real-life” relationships might cause people to enter the theater with buckets of hot buttered Zoloft instead of popcorn.

With this in mind, here are four types of real-life relationships you’ll probably never actually see in a movie

1. The man with the life-long side piece

In one of the most baffling types of real-life arrangements in existence, there are men who  have started and ended multiple relationships but managed to maintain the exact same side chick throughout each one. I guess it makes sense — comfort and consistency are, frankly, the shit — but if that isn’t the most ambitious-less, Everest College-ass relationship shit I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.

2. The f*ck buddies who don’t even really like f*cking each other

A couple years ago, a friend told me about an arrangement she had with a guy who’d come through once a week, have a couple glasses of moscato with her, and then would proceed to have terrible, awful, unbearably awkward sex with her. They both hated it — apparently he once fell asleep while she was on top of him, woke up, gave a couple more pumps, and fell back asleep — but this “relationship” continued for a couple months.

Thinking that this friend was an just a sad anomaly of coital despair, I told the story to another friend, who expressed that she also was in a similar arrangement — a full NBA season (seven months) of awful sex. When I asked her why she continued a friends with migrant worker benefits arrangement, she replied “I don’t know. I guess I just liked the way he smelled.”

3. The people only dating because…wait, why the hell are they dating again?

I was actually in a relationship like this a few years ago. We didn’t really like each other all that much, we both knew it wasn’t going to last longer than a year, and, well, did I mention the fact that we didn’t really like each other all that much?

I guess you can say that we stayed together because of the sex, but is it really worth staying in a relationship where both parties give each other a 5.5 to on the “10 point Like Scale” just because you’re sleeping with them four times a week?

It ended after exactly one year, which was maybe 11 months too long.

4. The people who’ve always pined for each other…but die without ever actually getting together

In the movies, these situations usually get resolved with some contrived-ass deferred meet cute that puts them in a situation where they have no choice but to realize that they need to be together.

In real life, though, sometimes these people continue to see each other in passing and at parties and continue to wonder and fantasize, but never actually hook-up — a situation as sad as the thought of Derrick Rose proctoring a PSAT. (Too soon?)

Anyway, people of VSB, can you think of any other types of relationships you’ll never see on screen? Also, if anyone out there has actually been in one of the type of relationships described today, come to #REMINISCEDC Saturday night and either I or Panama will give you a hug (if you’re a woman) or a shot (if you’re a man). Actually, f*ck it. Hugs and shots for everyone!

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Why Being A Single Man Is Kind Of Overrated

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Pic only chosen because I thought it was funny that this image was the first thing to pop up when googling "single black man"

While most will probably remember 2012 as the “Year Of The YOLO” (and by “most” I mean “like seven people“), it holds special significance for me because it’ll likely be the first year since 2002 where I spent the entire year single. I haven’t completed a full calender year yet — May will make it seven months since the former Lady Champ and I decided to go our separate ways — but because I seem to enjoy doing random anthropological experiments on myself for absolutely no reason (and because I’m an INTJ and INTJs apparently suck at relationships), I’m confident that I’ll make it to 2013 without having to change my Facebook relationship status again.

Anyway, if I could sum up my seven months of singledom in one word, it would most likely be “interesting.” I’ve met some “interesting” people, done some “interesting” things, made some “interesting” decisions, and, most importantly, thought some “interesting” thoughts. The most “interesting” of these “interesting” thoughts? Being a single man is kind of overrated.

Now, as I stated on the day where I wrote about orgasms, “overrated” doesn’t mean “bad.” In fact, as the careers of Tupac and Derrick Rose continue to prove, something can be very, very good — even great — and still be overrated. I’ve enjoyed being single, and will likely continue to enjoy it. But, while it seems like many assume that being a single man (a single Black man, at that) is nothing but an utopic stream of easy popsicles, cold pancakes, and syrupy p*ssy, there are a few downsides.

1. It can be very lonely

As a person who wanted to be single, is a natural introvert, and generally enjoys doing things by himself, I’m surprised by how, for lack of a better term, “noticeable” the solitude and loneliness of singledom can be. Even when seeing multiple people and/or having tons of friends, being single means that you are…single, by yourself, and there may be times when you want to have someone around but there will be no one that you want to be around readily available to be around.

Then, to add insult to injury, if you’re an angsty motherf*cker like me, you’ll start thinking things like “Wait. I’m a single man. A single Black man. My dad named me after Dolemite. Shaka Zulu is my second cousin. People who’ve never even met me call me “Champ” for chrissakes. Why the f*ck do I feel lonely right now?” which’ll make it even worse.

2. You have to wear condoms. And, wearing condoms sucks

If you’re one of the 137 people left on Earth who always has protected sex — even if in a long-term, monogamous relationship — just skip this section and move on to #3. Also, I’ve left a plate of gotdamn sugar cookies at the end of this post as a reward for your duty. Please eat them with a gotdamn smile.

If you’re not one of these people, you should be able to relate to how frustrating it’s been to go from condom-less sex to having to worry about having gotdamn condoms all the damn time. And, even if you’re not actively having sex, “Do I have condoms?” and “Since I don’t have condoms, is there somewhere close where I can buy them?” always has to be on your mind.

Also, from a logistical perspective, they’re a hassle to put on, they smell like a pack of slutty balloons, and “sex with condoms” will always be the Mike Conley of coitus.

There is always the alternative — just don’t wear condoms while single, either — but I think one Cromartie per generation is enough.

(Btw, is it just me, or has the price of condoms spiked dramatically in the past four years? I was last single in 2008, and I don’t remember a box of condoms costing as much as it does to fill a gas tank. Does this qualify as a “first world problem?” If a Black blogger bitches about condoms in the woods, would Kanye’s missing draws make a sound?) 

As much as condoms suck, they don’t suck as much as…

3. Having to participate in the dating game

In a paradox so annoying that I almost didn’t mention it today because I plan on spending an entire day on this sole topic soon, I love meeting new, interesting women but I hate the process that usually goes along with meeting new, interesting women.

I understand (and appreciate) the purpose of the process, but knowing why it’s necessary doesn’t mean that you have to enjoy it.

4. The superficial romantic connections synonymous with singledom gets old

Ironically, the best thing about being a single man — possessing the ability to have myriad short, commitment-free relationships AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!!! — ends up being one of the worst after enough time has passed.

This actually hasn’t happened to me yet. I guess I’m still in the single honeymoon phrase. But, I’m certain it will, and the thought of this happening is already depressing me.

Actually, this entire list is getting depressing. ***Making note to self to make sure tomorrow’s post is about the playoffs or strippers or something***

5. You start to realize some, um, “unpositive” things about yourself

I’ve been in three long-term — “long term” = “monogamous relationship lasting at least a year” — relationships as an adult. Each of these relationships failed, and my wanting to be single was the main catalyst behind each of these failures. Now, because I’ve always been a guy who did all the “right on paper” relationship things — I’ve never cheated, never physically or verbally abused any girlfriends, always followed the chivalry handbooks, etc — I’ve always assumed that I’m good at being a partner. But, these last few months have made me realize that I have some real deficiencies in the relationship department — personality quirks that have subtly sabotaged each relationship I’ve been in.

I wouldn’t quite call myself a trojan horse — the sabotage isn’t intentional (at least it’s not consciously intentional) — but I’m just not very good at this relationship thing right now, and I intend to spend the rest of 2012 trying to figure out why.

That’s it for me today. Fellas — single or coupled up — how do you feel about the concept of singledom? Is it all the beer commercials make it out to be, or do you agree that it may be slightly overrated? Also, ladies, are the “single man problems” expressed today at all similar to any “single woman problems?”

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

What If We Were Wrong About Trayvon?

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Aside from finding an answer to the always awkward “So…who gets to “keep” the mutual friends?” question every newly uncoupled duo needs to ask themselves, the most difficult part of making the transition to “single” for me has been figuring out how to categorize memories. More specifically, are the great times you spent with your ex remembered in the same way once the relationship ends? Does that trip you took together to Rome or that unbelievable birthday he threw for you still get filed under “great” in your memory banks, do you create an entirely different category to archive those memories, or do you just try your best to expel them completely?

It seems as if the answer depends on the nature of the break-up. I imagine that people who ended relationships because of serious betrayal have a tougher time thinking positively of anything that happened in the time they were in that relationship. And, even if they do have a fondness for those things, how do they deal with the fact that a fond memory was eventually found to be a complete fabrication? (An example: You found out that your trip to Rome was only possible because his mistress works for Delta and hooked him up with free plane tickets)

While I understand the sentiment behind allowing a present experience affect how you remember the past, I think doing so cheats yourself out of one of the best parts of living. Learning that the relationship itself may not have been everything you thought it was doesn’t negate the authentic feeling felt when those memories were created. Your joy and happiness wasn’t inauthentic; it was your genuine reaction to something good happening. And, since most relationships, even good ones, eventually end, re-categorizing all good things that happened in relationships that eventually ended from “good” to “f*ck that shit” would ultimately leave most of us with no good memories at all.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago I wrote about the fact that the Trayvon Martin case has galvanized us in a way that, to be honest, I can’t remember happening at any other point in my lifetime. Seeing us collectively committed to righting this wrong almost makes me feel as good as the event causing us to come together makes me feel bad, and many seem to share this sentiment.

Still, despite our steadfast commitment to making damn sure our outrage is felt and our demands are heeded, the fact remains that there are still only three relevant facts regarding this case:

1. Trayvon Martin, an unarmed teen, was killed by neighborhood watchman George Zimmerman.

2. George Zimmerman is still free

3. Aside from Zimmerman, Martin, (maybe) a few witnesses, and God, no one knows exactly what happened that night.

Now, I’m not here today to speculate on what I think happened¹ or even what anyone else thinks happened. Instead, I want to play hypothetical for a moment and ask “What if?”²

What if the reckless shit some are spewing about Trayvon being the aggressor and beating Zimmerman to a pulp happens to be true? What if the gun accidentally went off after a struggle? What if he really was a problem child who, to paraphrase the words of a dozen or so dangerously contrarian conservative columnists, “had it coming?” What if Zimmerman’s life was in real danger?

I’m asking because I wonder if would it change how we’ve felt about the last few weeks of walk-outs, petition-signing, rally-attending, hoodie-wearing, and protest-marching if any of this was found to be true. Would the outrage still be as white hot if we found out that our perception of what happened that night was completely off? Would the collective galvanization still feel as real? Would the strides we’ve made in proving to ourselves that “yes we can actually unite behind a cause” prove to be inauthentic? Would we continue to, to quote Slim Charles, “fight on that lie“?

I want to believe everything I want to believe about Trayvon, and I want to believe that even if those beliefs aren’t true, my feelings about this collective effort wouldn’t change. I’d like to think I’d follow my own advice about how not to let context cloud memories, but l desperately hope I never have to answer any of those questions.

¹I think that Zimmerman stalked, followed, and confronted Martin and shot him in a scared panic. Cold-blooded murder? No. But, his fear speaks to the latent feeling many have towards Black males, and since this fear resulted in the death of an unarmed kid, he deserves to be behind bars.
²Just wanted to remind everybody that writing a hypothetical “what if” doesn’t mean that I personally believe what’s stated in the hypothetical. It’s just a hypothetical, nothing more. 

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)

Having The Birthday Cake And Eating It Too: A Collection of Conflicting Thoughts About Chris Brown

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Ever since his infamous assault of then-girlfriend Rihanna, I’ve been captivated with Chris Brown, Rihanna, the myriad different stances people have adopted in regards to them, and the “Whys” behind these stances. Case in point: Along with my recent piece at Ebony, I’ve written about them — well, him in particular — at least four times in the three years since.

First there was “naked: chris brown and the sad plight of the scorned man” — an entry where I used their situation as a convenient segue to talk about how men dealing with effed up relationship situations usually don’t have any proverbial “shoulders to cry on.”

I followed that a few months later in something written about Tiger Woods and his wife, where I made mention of the fact that it seems like some of the people excusing Chris Brown for his role in the incident may not realize exactly how much bigger he is than Rihanna. Not that it should matter. A 5’6” man can inflict just as much damage as a 6’6” man can. But, I thought (and still do think) that some people hear the name “Chris Brown” and immediately think skinny, dancing-ass, teenage pop star, not 6’2” man with muscles formed from years of dancing and working out. Basically, in their minds, him vs Rihanna was a fair fight, but in actuality he dwarfs her in size.

Next, I made mention of them making a “movie” together in “A Sneak-Peek Into “Tyler Perry’s Love Jones.”

And, by the time “Seven Reasons Why I’m Totally Not Upset About Steve Harvey’s “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man” Movie” was written a few months ago, you could begin to sense my exasperation with this discussion. In a matter of a couple years, I went from “this is some serious sh*t” to “I know it’s serious, but I don’t really give a damn anymore”

“Back to Blonde Breezy. Although I’ve been very critical of Chris Brown’s “redemption” in the past, I think I’ve officially reached the “not a single f*ck was given” point regarding whatever the hell happened that infamous night on the way to the Grammys. Apparently, time heals all wounds and all self-righteous indignations.

But, what remains completely fascinating is how both him and Rihanna have gotten progressively weirder and progressively more famous since that night. Maybe instead of a fight that night, they actually went through the Illuminati’s application and pledging process. Who knows?

I do know, though, that somewhere out there (probably on Mars), Andre 3000 and Erykah Badu are kicking themselves. They already had the weird part down pact. Who knew that all they had to do to keep people actually buying their albums was jab each other a couple times while riding in one of their spaceships?”

I guess today’s entry is me coming full-circle. As you may have guessed, I am fascinated again. Now, though, the best word to describe my feelings about Chris Brown is ambivalent.

From the perspective of a person who follows, studies, appreciates, and, sh*t, depends on pop culture, I’m elated that Breezy and Ri-Ri are making music (and, possibly, love) together again. I don’t give a damn about the “Birthday Cake” song itself (I haven’t even listened to it yet), but I will be tuned in to read, watch, listen to, and attempt to deconstruct people’s reactions to it. For a person who writes about pop culture for a living, you couldn’t ask for a better, more layered story.

But, from the perspective of a man who used to be an educator and knows exactly how damaging the latent message of “It’s ok to beat up your girl as long as you’re handsome and popular because everyone, including her, will forgive you shortly anyway” can (and will) have on their millions of young fans, their very public reconciliation rubs me the wrong way.

Right now, Chris Brown is having his birthday cake and eating it too. And, along with the Gotdamn Idiot factor, I think much of the push back is due to the fact that it just doesn’t seem fair for him to be able to do that. People upset at the situation are interested in and deeply invested in concepts like justice, and karma, and comeuppance, and seeing a person do dirt and still succeed in spite of it is a severe rebuke of the way they see the world.

On the other hand, that — Life just aint f*cking fair. Get used to it. — could be a teachable lesson in itself. Perhaps it’s not a bad thing to teach kids at an early age that popular guys and pretty girls will have advantages that normal folks just don’t. I mean, I’m sure they see it play out in front of them every day, and they’re probably tired of hearing “all people have the same chance” from their teachers and parents anyway. Why not be real with them now instead of setting them up for a lifetime’s worth of disappointment?

I don’t know. I don’t have any answers to any of these questions. I don’t know which side of me — the writer or the human — will win out. Sh*t, I don’t even know if the writer and the human are separate entities. I do know, though, that this will not be the last time I devote space to Chris Brown, and I’m concerned with how easily I’m beginning to be able to write something and feel nothing.

—Damon Young (aka “The Champ”)