The Ethiopian

So what shall I tell you about the Ethiopian?

He’s not very, very tall, but he’s a fair bit taller than me. He’s handsome, but then most Ethiopians are beautiful. He’s like almost all my men, I suppose, a little underexposed in some areas and no doubt suffering from the plight of all African men in the world.

I am attracted to him, but not for love. At this point, not really sex either.

He’s nice. He’s a nice guy. Interesting and thoughtful, open and warm-hearted, but this is not a love-thing. I don’t see that happening.

If I told my mother that, she’d say, “You’re never going to get married.”

I sometimes think she thinks I should just be happy with what I get and not complain. Me, I just wonder how hard it is to find someone who balances me.

I wonder if I will ever truly be in love with anyone ever again in my life.

I guess what is bothering me most about the Ethiopian is that he’s not YMK. And I wish he was.

Am I bad?

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