Dark Boy

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Honestly, Dark boy would prolly love anyone who loved him back right. In every good and bad way possible, he had no preference.

He liked pretty boys who didn’t really talk about nothing.

He liked boys who were a little rough around their edges and mama’s ain’t know who they were really kissing when they stayed out so long.

He liked boys who ain’t liked boys before.

He liked boys who ain’t liked themselves before.

Dark boy liked a little bit of everybody, and a little bit of everybody  liked or made some type of love to Dark Boy, because while Dark Boy might have been a whole lotta problems, he was beautiful in the way young boys like; Big curious eyes, bushy-browed, a face something like your daddy might have had back in the day, skin glowing a warm yellow-brown, high yellow like we call em’ in the south, but in the city, the call him lightskinned, and all the young boys lightskinned.

But wait. If he’s yellow, why do they call him Dark Boy?
You might be asking, to which I’d say you’d have to look a little deeper.

Dark boy was dark somewhere else, like maybe in his soul instead of his skin, and men didn’t mind at first. They even called it mysterious, until they eventually called him crazy, and then never called him at all, leaving Dark Boy even more mopey, more cynical, and somehow, even more disappointed than before. Dark Boy got in the habit of never telling his friends how long he was seeing so-and-so, but instead telling them how long until so-and-so stops seeing him.

Dark Boy wore his disappointment something like an itchy pair of drawers he just wouldn’t change, doing things with boys hoping they’d stay. Wondering where the hell they went when they left, and how long they’d be gone. He’d wonder who those men loved before they found him, and most disturbingly, he’d fantasize about they way these men would eventually leave him too.

Don’t get me wrong, Dark Boy did whatever the hell he could to keep men around – Working two jobs and paying a broke nigga’s phone bill. Cooking and feeding men who waited for their job interview to call back, letting em’ taste all his secret places, even on the first night.

One man spent four nights in a row calling Dark Boy all the things Dark Boy wanted to hear. He whispered all of the hot and right things to him. Pushed himself deep into Dark Boy night after night right in front of the only window in the apartment; let most of 23rd street watch Dark Boy flail in bursts of pain and sometimes even pleasure over the lively street.

On the fifth night this lover asked Dark Boy if he could invite a friend in on their arrangement and without giving a firm yes or no, but giving a relentless willingness to please, Dark Boy found himself between two men who he figured probably loved each other more than either would ever love him.

Nobody called on the sixth night,

and by the seventh, the lover and his friend were all just an embarrassing memory Dark Boy wouldn’t mention again.

Instead, Dark Boy would carry the moment in his back pocket, let the disappointment weigh on his soul like the disappointments always did.

He’d show up on yet another date, drink with another man who would find his misery mysterious and call him all the things he wanted to hear; whisper all the hot and right things to him.

Make him forget, even for a few days,  how much disappointment weighs.

 

 

10 thoughts on “Dark Boy

  1. So immensely sad; unfortunately, so frightfully true. Every generation has many such cases like Dark Boy. Youth who really are unsure of what love is and fail to recognize that you have to love yourself before you can really love anyone else. They substitute sex for love and never learn to differentiate the two.

    A remarkable post, my blogging friend. Remarkable meaning not that you wrote it, but you made those of us reading it feel the frustration, disappointment and loss of Dark Boy.

    A truly fantastic job! Naked hugs!
    ~ and have a safe and happy Thanksgiving!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Woaah. How in the fuck did I not respond to this. Yikes.

      Dark boy is a super general story, and he definitely represents a lot of people I know VERY personally. I think he represents something new about being young at this moment in history. The notes of things I’ve written for dark boy and what I posted might vary a bit, but I was fascinated by men who try to love from this weird ass place of dissapointment.

      Never a “wow, love and connection is great and it’s cool I get to do this with people!” but instead a “Welp. People have only disappointed me, maybe this person will prove me wrong” and then inevitably ending up disappointed.

      I’m so glad you enjoy this post Roger, this is one of the first moments I stepped out on character and created a fuller story. I appreciate your encouragement, and willingness to feel with me while we understand some real shit.

      Liked by 1 person

    • It shouldn’t hurt. We’re all a little Dark Boy, or we’ve been a little Dark Boy, and under the right circumstances, we could be a little Dark Boy.

      Hint…what the fuck would you tell Dark Boy if you knew him?
      Follow up question: What is it you need to hear?

      Liked by 1 person

      • Dear Dark Boy,

        It’s okay! You’ve made the best of every hand you’ve been dealt.
        You’ve turned every situation into pure gold, even when you felt like ending it.
        Every insatiable hole you’ve crossed paths with didn’t love you
        and it’s possible that they could only love you the only way they knew how to love.
        So many of us are empty.
        So many of us Dark Boys don’t love without seeking instant gratification.
        After sex we run.
        We run from connections.
        We run from magnetic energy
        run from ourselves
        We are reminded through sex that we are all alike’
        seeking, wanting Wishing.

        DARK BOY.
        Love yourself.
        I’m not saying this because I believe that you don’t love yourself. I believe that you forgot that the same energy you’ve put into others, you should be chasing your dreams
        You should be smiling
        You should be enjoying you
        Dark Boy,
        Even when you are angry
        You are magnetic
        Even when You’re sad.
        You are fire
        Even when you’re crying,
        You are water.
        When you are not present
        You are magic.

        Like

      • Holy fuck.

        That was powerful. Are you quoting something? Is this straight from the top of the dome? There’s a whole piece here, maybe a few different ones.

        At the lines:

        We are reminded through sex that we are all alike’
        seeking, wanting Wishing.

        I got fucked up.

        You have your next post. You have your next reason to write. Keep going, friend.

        Liked by 1 person

      • I wrote this from the dome. Literally as I was thinking it. I thought about what I would want to hear. It started out by writing a letter to my Manic self. The person who is heartbroken. The guy who feels so used at the moment. I wanted to remind myself that there was still magic here. That there’s still thunder in my walk and fire in my eyes. I wanted to remind myself and all Dark Boys that we are perfect.

        Liked by 1 person

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