Capricorn Woman, Cancer Men…The Saga

There are three Cancer Men in my life and all three of them are kicking my ass emotionally right now.

The first is my little big brother. My little big brother was born when I was six. The events happened back to back: I came to this country, went to sleep a few nights and woke up one morning to him being here. I knew about pregnant women and that my mother was pregnant when I saw her again the first time but my little brother’s birth was like I made a wish and got it. I was miserable when I came here. My little sister was jealous (she was 3, she couldn’t help it) and the first things she did were in that vein, scratching me, snatching my chain off, running between me and her mother. It was so dirty here and I missed the two dozen people that made up my daily life till that point badly. So when I suddenly had a baby here just like the babies I had back at home, I was happy as hell.

I loved my little big brother. He was born with a big ass head and a face like a pie. He had some kind of autism or retardation and they used to talk about him in terms of how fucked up he’d be because of his condition. I felt mad protective towards him. He was one of those people that couldn’t conceive of grimey shit, like he was innocent and sweet and so grateful for any little thing you did for him. I used to kiss my little brother up like a million times a day and play with him all day, carrying him around like a doll. I remember getting a beating when he ate mud. I made mud cakes and this little boy ate them and was sitting there with a mouthful of mud and my mother lit my ass up. I remember another beating from playing with the hose until I sprayed a big ass patch of the grass up out of the lawn spraying him. My moms was never maternal, never kissy or huggy or sweet but I was, especially to him. I loved the shit out of my little brother and apparently the feeling was very, very, very mutual.

As time went on, I stayed close to him. I used to cook for him, read with him and teach him things from the Mathemagics book that we had. I don’t have one bad memory of him in my whole life. When he was little and he told me still to this day, his favorite food is my world famous spaghetti with hotdogs and ketchup. (It can’t be the taste, I think its the memories for him too). He doesn’t eat raw lunchmeat because I used to cook cold cuts and his favorite drink is sugar water lemonaide, my other gourmet specialty. My little big brother had that idiot savant thing where he can learn some things so well its like his memory is photographic but he’s otherwise not smart. He knows two plus three is five but he can’t learn life lessons. He had the entire MTA subway map memorized when he was four so he could tell you every stop that every train stopped at and all the connections. He never understood social cues or that people are fucked up inside or that bad stuff happens to good people. But because he was always with me, he used to play with all the other little kids and he learned to socialize. He learned to play sports and games but he never was the right age mentally. When my little big brother was like eleven, I left my mother’s the first time for good.

By then, my littlest brother, the second Cancer was born. My littlest brother was fucked up bad with autism. He was born when I was sixteen. My mother knew how I was with babies and she expected that I would be the same way with him as I had been with my little big brother but I was a teenager then and engrossed in my own shit. Engrossed. I took care of my littlest brother and when I was home he was always up under me but thats when I was home, which I tried to make as little of the time as possible. Hindsight being twenty/twenty I used to think my mother had my littlest brother to try and patch things up with her husband but she might have been thinking of me too, wishing that the baby being there would make me come back and be how I was. Life is crazy.

At any rate, I was too engrossed to understand. I didn’t even understand myself at that age.

I didn’t come home. I was too busy chasing another Cancer. My kid’s father. You know how people say they thought “the world” of somebody? I thought the Sun of that dude. I loved my kids’ father. Everything about him fascinated me and I remember when we first started living together, laying next to him looking at his face and playing with his eyelashes and touching his skin.

Not in a sexual way, but I remember doing that to all my Cancers. Even my daughter now. I remember doing that to all of them and telling them how much I loved them and that they were my sweety love baby or my benjiboom or my big big bigboy or with the kids father… my true and living god. Without really thinking of  what happened to those words when they left my mouth. I never really thought of how those words affected them or what impact I had on them.  I get caught up in my emotions, what people make me feel and my needs to where I don’t see myself as an active doer in relationships but that’s probable the case for everybody.

I’m not ready to talk about it yet but my little big brother just got married. I missed his wedding. Just like, I missed all the other important things in his life once I left home. My brother used to come wherever I was at and just sit with me the day but I never really thought about why he was there. I just figured he aint have nothing else to do, without thinking he’s a Cancer and maaaad emotional and he’s guided by those feelings. Whenever I cut my moms off, I never made other arrangements to stay in tune with him. Its like one minute this little boy had me not just in his corner but I liked him, understood him, loved him unconditionally thru and thru always and the next minute I just turned my back. But at the time,

I was about to go into a bunch of lies. Without meaning to lie. But the truth is that I just forgot about him. That makes me feel foul on par with my moms and her foul-ness. That’s Mummy caliber of hurting people. I just forgot about him, like if I thought about him I would smile but not go look for him. The same thing with my littlest brother.

He was four when I had my own son. The craziest thing I remember was that one time he had on an old hat that belonged to one of my friends from Tech when I came to the house. I asked him about it and he launched into a whole speech about the boy and he’d remembered EVERYTHING I’d told him like I was a living legend. He was wearing that hat like my jersey. When he was a baby, I used to talk mad slow to him but never in baby talk and I would drag out the explanations of everything down to the detail. I would say things like “Benji, walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, look in the door of the fridge and get a purple container that says Silk. Open it and put it on the table. Get a bowl. Get the cereal and pour it into the bowl, slowly so you don’t spill it. When you see the top of the cereal make a mountain, put the bowl on the table next to the Silk. Then pour some silk on the cereal until only the top of the mountain is showing.” for everything. He used to wild out when people gave him regular directions and he couldn’t follow and they’d hit him or call him names but I always had patience. He wasn’t supposed to be able to show affection because of the autism but I kissed and tickled and played with him so much that he was very affectionate. Sometimes inappropriately so. My little brother used to tickle my kids’ father which was super creepy. He knew Benji was autistic but he still used to react like how anybody would react if a little crazy kid just started tickling them.

That reminds me of another Cancer, born on the 4th of July, my friend’s son Rah. My friend was mean as a rattlesnake and she used to beat  her kids up bad. All day, she’d be smacking, punching, pulling hair, screaming in their faces, even kicking them. Rah was like four but he had no teeth because all his front teeth had gotten rotted out by the bottle. But he was the sweetest baby. I used to play with him all day and kiss him up and protect him. The daughter was too shellshocked to really be close to anybody but she used to like to hold my hand and sit next to me. Rah though was like he wanted to climb into my body like if he could squeeze himself into my belly he would’ve. One day my kid’s father came over there and he was like why is the young god looking at me like that?

Rah was ice grilling him, mad dogging  him, mad as fuck the whole day. As young as he was, the jealousy was very mannish like if he had any wins, he would’ve tried to kick my kids’ father’s ass. I would have had to choose that day, lol.  Again with the hindsight being twenty/twenty my kid’s father was teasing me like I was cheating with the little boy or something but that was probably not far from what Rah was thinking. He was hurt and mad when my kids’ father showed up. My little big brother wanted to play ball and make music because of my kid’s father and he’d sit there and listen to what he was doing for hours when he came to the crib. If I’d had the level of understanding I do now then, I would’ve told my kids father our history and to just take him under the wing because he was going through some abandonment shit. My littlest brother like I said, used to tickle him and come sit with him whenever he was there. I never thought about it though, really, in terms of what they were going through.

So much shit that I never thought about. My little big brother stayed mad short, kept the same size head and went into the military. I moved uptown and hardly ever saw my littlest brother after a while. When I would see him though, I would take him to do whatever  I could that was the most fun with him. If I had a car, I’d take them driving. If I had five dollars, we’d walk and get ice cream. He was another one that was supremely grateful for anything.

Its like if that lady from Helen Keller just quit her job and went to go work in an office.  Like if one Monday, helen keller was sitting there waiting for anne sullivan and this heifer had just bounced, got her a next job, a kid of her own or something and never came to check her.

Back to the three pronged assault though. I was talking to my little big brother and I told him that me and my kids father broke up and that I put him out. He goes so where did he go? I said I don’t know, to his brothers. The shit felt so heavy when he asked me like somebody just told me they put somebody old out in the cold with no money and no help. He asked me what about the kids. I told him they were okay and he didn’t say anything. Then he asked me if my kid’s father got a new wife. I said some angry shit and he goes thats so messed up for your family and then he asked me if my kid’s father was sick. I said no. And then I told him that he twice shit a toilet bowl full of blood. He went silent. I could hear him breathing but neither of us could talk.  He told me he’d known my kids father since he was little and he’d never thought about him getting old and dying.

I felt like running. Dead serious. All I could think was how can I get some money so I can move to Hawaii. If I had anywhere to go I would’ve dropped the phone and ran there.

My little brother told me he’s always going to love me but. I can’t handle that either.

Then my littlest brother wrote me a letter asking me to please take him somewhere for his bday with “my family”. That made me think of how I had built him up like he would always have me and then pushed him away till now he’s an outsider that has to be asking to tag along. And then the type of people that he is, he’s been thinking about that  for awhile, probably since the last time I spent time with him…three years ago.

My kid’s father (i can’t think of an alias yet) is the third prong. He makes me feel autistic and retarded. On the relationship level, he deserved to get put out on his fucken ass but emotionally, going back to our history and looking at the whole of everything, I can’t deal with how wicked I feel for turning my back on him and putting him out in the street after the way I built him up. I can’t deal with how I was looking at the blood in the toilet medically when any little thing  that happens in MY body, I relate to stress and emotional breakdown. When LE (my little big brother) took that shit so hard, I thought about when my kid’s father found out his brother had heart surgery. And he was fucked up, like this can’t be happening to my Olympian pet grizzly bear BIG brother. It was like this iconic legendary hero that was like superman since he was little is now kicked and bloody on the ground on front of him and there’s nothing he can do about it.  My kid’s father was the first dude that was good at everything, muscles bulging and ‘hood and smart and good at the video games he played with my little brothers. I never think about that. This is my brother’s superman. When I look at how my brothers started working out, making music, playing ball and even carrying themselves, that’s their model.

And I never thought about that.

So, where it is right now is since then, I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking.  other people and my impact on them. What we all need. what they need from me. It would be nothing for me to go find my little big brother, go meet his wife, hug him up and kick it with them and make everybody feel good. It would be nothing for me to tell my mother to start letting my littlest brother spend the weekends with me. It’s nothing for me to tell my kid’s father that I love him and always will. But what about maintaining that shit? With my kids father I look at it like he’s a grimey nigga that at any time could destroy me mentally, emotionally and spiritually and I have to keep him at arm’s length so he doesn’t end up having me smoking crack somewhere. I can’t trust him and what he wants to do is destructive to me.

Its not just the cheating, but everything that comes with it – the rejection, the lies, the competing with other bitches for some “thing” that’s supposed to be mine, not ever knowing exactly what is going on, the mindgames I can’t play because I am looking at it like this is my life… All I can do is crumble under that. He was here all week until Friday. Friday he left and spent the night somewhere and then Saturday I guess the same and then he went to some studio and now he is wherever he is. What can come from that? Like what is in it for me to pursue a relationship with a man so he can feel comfortable dividing his time between home and family and the shit that he really likes to do so he can rap about how he fucks alot? So with him, uggghhhh…

They say you have the same relationship with a cancer man as you do with your mother and that is the truth. Just like her, he didn’t want me when he had me and now he can’t come back. The day she killed it for me was the day she told me that a man she met on the street and started fucking with was her family and for me that came out of her body to stop messing with her family. The day this dude killed it for me was the day he told me he was confused. That had a harder impact then when he told me he never wanted these kids, I just kept getting pregnant. That was a doozie but the confused shit blew that away… Twenty years and five kids in and you is confused? WTF fuck kinda weak ass shit is that? He could have told me anything and it would have been better than saying that. If you confused then you not in control and I’m know I’m not in control so who the  is? Amanda Rollins or Ithiopia or SarahPNC?

I have reached the point where I don’t have to be fighting with him but I know he’s not my peoples.  I take the best part he has to offer that day and I don’t look for nothing else. Cause  he has NOTHING for me. The day is never going to come where I get back from him anything equal to what I put in or when I don’t feel like I need a drink to be okay with “us”. So the honest truth is that I wasn’t planning on maintaining anything with him because as soon as I could, my plan was to RUN. As soon as I met another man I fell in love with and my kids were in a situation where they could function independently that was going to be the last my kid’s father ever heard or saw of me, lol. Whatever had happened the day before be damned, I would drop his ass like a hot rock and make moves. We could have been in bed talking about the highest sciences and mathematics and how much we were the Sun and Earth and hours later, I would’ve met my real soulmate and boated.  And I felt like he deserved no more or less.

But my brothers don’t. I don’t want to make them feel good or show them that I love them today and then can’t maintain it. I need to find a way to bring them into my life, to stay. Otherwise I’m going to turn on the news one day and see my brother’s face on there (either one) talking about he’s the one thats been killing all those hookers.

I also need to stop feeling overwhelmed by feelings. But I feel overwhelmed, till the point of being crippled. I can’t think of emotions or feel a deep one without something happening in my chest or crying. They don’t get integrated into the experience and then I feel needy or like I’m missing something. Too often, I think of a person and then think of how I feel for them, as two separate things.

Help Me Universe. I’ll leave it at that. I was trying to think of a solution so I could leave things nice and tidy but thats not the reality. Just help me Universe.


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