Assassination by Friendly FiYa: The Sky and all her Treasures

Whats funny is how after a breakup the grapevine gets a memo. The little telephone poles of faggotry get buzzed from here to the White House and all the information about YOUR breakup gets scrambled across the community. The first persons to hear?—who knows, but the first people to respond are those eX’s or those dips, all the boys you told: I can’t pork you no mo’ cuz I’s married now, come crawling outta the framework of old decrepit houses to say:

wassup?

The sky and all her treasures… is how you respond, evading all their attempts to inquire about sex and how “good” it was 3 years ago, when, 3 years ago, you had it last, you didn’t think it was good; and how “nice” it would be for you to venture to make arrangements to do it again now that you’re back “on the market”. And you cringe because you know it’s imminent that you have that conversation with him [or the hims] but you avoid it because, though you told him that your reason for not sleeping with was due to your new relationship, your new relationship probably had little to any reason dealing with you making that decision.

So you say shit like the sky and all her treasures to catch ‘em off guard and divert the conversation elsewhere.


But it never seems to fail. I figure the population in Chicago’s gay black community is rather small, if we all keep fucking each other we’re soon someday gonna catch one another’s germs and know where they came from. So I guess when a relationship is brewed that same force leaks the same information the exact same way as when someone breaks up; everyone knows. And I often wonder, is there a protocol, does an agenda get followed?—who calls who and tells who about whom first? Is there a phone tree set up in the Rainbow Coalitions office that’s implemented immediately upon word of either a wedding or divorce? How does everyone find the fuck out!

This guy who I was in love with, madly in love with, I could tell you the story but it tends to make me nauseous, hit me up on messenger the very moment Jerome and I broke up. Talk about vulture. And so it had been my goal, during the conversation, to not bring up Jerome because I didn’t want to admit the breakup to this person, it’s none of his concern, and he’s so predictable I knew where he was going to take the conversation had he found out.

Well its like he knew already, because after we exchanged our hellos, he flat out and asked, How are you and Jerome doing; and I KNEW he knew. He’s never cared to ask before. And when I went to interrogate the question of how in the hell could he have found out, I asked myself and in a silent, yet displeasing acceptance remembered that I do maintain a blog…and that blog is incredibly public. Damnit!