I accidentally fell in love with a terrorist
Before we get into this crazy story about how I fell in and out of love within a week, I’d like to admit that I am not the best at dating. I ignore red flags, I immaturely give everyone the benefit of doubt, I don’t ask the right questions. I can go on — let’s just say, I love recklessly. It’s messy af. It’s one thing to live for a thrill, but I officially out did myself this time around. This story is going to be extremely amusing and I’m not sure if I feel embarrassed about it or special to have experienced something so insane. You probably won’t believe me. I don’t believe me either, but here it goes.
After a full year of intentional singleness in 2020 — literally, no male energy for an entire year, no sex, no dates, no calls, no texts, no IG DM’s, no nothing, I finally decided to pursue companionship again in December 2020. It all happened so fast. It all began at the cutest little Vision Board Party with a group of wishful and hopeful young women. I referred to my list of 2021 goals as I selected what I still truly believe will come to fruition this year. I specifically added three cutouts of attractive black men who exemplified sexiness, sophistication, style, and success. For your amusement, one of these cutouts was of Barak Obama. I just think he’s the type of guy who would get me. He’s so diplomatic, he’d probably understand any and everyone.
Anywho, shortly after this bold projection, on the way home from the Vision Board Party turned Twerk Contest, I drunk dialed one of my matches on Hinge. The funny thing about dating apps is if first you don’t succeed, delete the app, redownload it a year later and you’ll be poppin’ like nobody's business. My Hinge was lit all December. But there was one match I just couldn’t stop thinking about. We had only talked once, but the conversation was rich and promising despite his eagerness to discuss his involvement in the BDSM Community, his recent drug-related imprisonment, and his permanent residency issues. What can I say, I naturally have a heart for the troubled soul. Especially when they are 6’5, drop-dead gorgeous and show you enough attention after a year-long male detox.
Back to the drunk call, It was 4 am, he didn’t answer but he returned my call the following day, New Year's Eve. And boy, did he lay it on thick. I ate it up! We bantered and flirted all day long into the evening and countdown festivities via text and calls. New Year's Eve quickly became New Years Day. Around 2 am I left my friends and went home intending to prepare for an early spa day. Just as I was preparing to snatch off my lashes, he called. Turns out, he was nearby. So we planned an impromptu meeting. Lucky me, I hadn’t wiped off my makeup and I looked like a total snack! I was feeling myself and just got done taking 50 selfies. You couldn’t tell me shit!
It was the typical Netflix and Chill date that transcended well into early afternoon ( No worries, it was PG). We never actually went to sleep. Our last few moments together were out chilling on the balcony. He mentioned an upcoming trip to Washington D.C., but at that point, I stopped listening. I was speechless. For the first time, he had taken his very thick bifocal-looking frames off to rest his eyes, and that’s when I realized how got damn attractive this man was. Like God slowed down and took his time when he crafted this man. I couldn’t hold back from expressing my admiration, so I didn’t. I was so mesmerized by his bone structure and his smile and easy eyes and his beard and his casualness with it, his hair. Total ASAP Rocky vibes with a mix of Marvin Gaye. It was sensory overload for me. It quickly became weird because I didn’t know how to respond to someone whose physical appearance was so angelic. I begin regurgitating the lamest pickup lines about him falling from heaven. I asked him if hurt when he fell. I laughed hysterically at my drunk wit. He just stared at me, blinking. It was beyond a compliment, it was extra af. Especially because I said the joke five times in a row. I never got the response I felt the joke deserved. But I was very amused. We parted ways and I was sure that I ruined it.
To my surprise, he called me Tuesday, January 5th. That’s right, this is about to get juicy. He was en route to Washington D.C. and had a 10-hour trip with time to kill. He needed me to be his ride or die. You know, the person you call to help make the trip go by faster, helps keep you from falling asleep. I happily took the role! His energy and conversation were very different that night. He was very flighty. I could sense his excitement. I began to inquire about the purpose of the trip and he casually admitted that he was partaking in an organized event related to the recent election. He fluffed it with big words and round-a-way responses about the professional production of what was yet to come so that it sounded like a recordable and honest protest. But it left me a little confused, so I just asked, “Are you going to a rally?” He responded yes and he immediately changed the subject. This is something I noticed he was very good at - effortlessly winding through a conversation to expand on whatever he wanted to talk about. A lot of one-sided conversations. I just figured he liked talking and it was always interesting topics. So I just let him talk. He was the hottest eye candy I had ever exchanged pleasantries with. I honestly didn’t care what we talked about. He was just so gosh damn fine.
Although I’m not the most politically involved and informed person, I’m not hiding under a rock. I get my dose of NPR and have tried to surround myself with different races, classes, ages, and lifestyles so I can learn how our country's woe’s affect people other than me. And in that mix somewhere, I did hear some prediction about Pro-Trump Supporters protesting at the capitol and I created the narrative that I wanted with this guy, which was, this guy is going to participate in a Black organized Anti-Trump Rally to publicly support the Biden Harris Campaign and counteract the crazy Trump Supporters we all witnessed on January 6, 2020. I thought this was pretty heroic. Look at me dating a fearless activist! WRONG. I was blinded by infatuation! The worst way, smh.
After work, Wednesday, January 6th, I texted “Hey I’m watching the news, are you okay?” I was very concerned about my new boo! He responded with a call. He admits to being a Trump Supporter, a *QAnon Conspiracy Theorist (back then I didn’t have a clue what that even meant. Please see reference below if you’re just as clueless.) He rambled on about how there were hundreds of thousands of other black Trump Supporters there, how Trump really won the election, how Trump really isn’t apart of this secret society of satanist and sex trafficking pedophiles, and that he's being framed. And in just a few days, the truth will be revealed from a mysterious source. Do I believe that some crazy world domination fuck shit is going on behind closed doors with some of our leaders, maybe a smidge? But this conversation spiraled deep into the craziest part of a world I never knew existed. I was shooketh.
I am one to prance on the edge of reality, but this was the kookiest shit I had ever heard. I was speechless and honestly not nearly as educated on the topic to engage much. A debate on his radical views wouldn’t have helped change them. He wasn’t prancing on the edge of reality, he intentionally dived in the Mariana Trench and didn’t care to be saved. He admitted that to me as well. So I just listened in unbelief as he and a friend ranted on about the different conspiracies. How often do you get to talk to someone like this? This was a one-of-a-kind experience for me. An opportunity to pick their heads. “I’m a writer, this is content,” is that I kept telling myself. “That’s the only reason you haven’t shut this shit down yet….right?” They were so passionate and desperate, it made me a little nervous for two reasons. If I keep this up, I will be the woman writing him love letters while he’s in jail. I wouldn’t fuck with QAnon’s like that, but some of his cult buddies would assist financially with the baby we shared. So I’d be cordial. Then I asked myself, why would someone show their crazy that fast. It was all so much so fast. It was obvious, he wasn’t trying to make a good impression. And I didn’t require him to. He knew the shit was ridiculous. I knew it too. I just don’t understand why it takes me allllll of that. GIIIIIRRRL, smh.
How come just now at 30 I’m learning that the signs are so fucking important?! I did have some pretty obvious ones that I ignored. Like when he pulled out that whip mid-conversation. It had nothing to do with what we were talking about. I just thought he was awkward. I like hot awkward! I’m hot awkward! So I gave him a pass. I just knew this tall, dark, handsome afro-wearing, bonnet-wearing shea butter negro, would be decent. I was ready to grease his scalp, support his crystal collection, and watch his documentaries. But I realized, this was just Freaky Hotep 2.0, Ewwww! And now, my first frog of 2021. I feel so dirty and ashamed. I knew he wasn’t my Vision Board Man, but he was fine fuck and after that year detox, I came back thirsty, deprived, and confused. Don’t judge, pray for me! Look, let me stop playing and mute this man on IG before he sees this shit!
*QAnon Conspiracy Theorist - is a disproven and discredited far-right conspiracy theory[1] alleging that a secret cabal of Satan-worshipping, cannibalistic[2][3][4] pedophiles are running a global child sex-trafficking ring and plotting against former U.S. President Donald Trump, who has been fighting the cabal.[5] According to U.S. prosecutors, QAnon is commonly called a cult.