Arguments In Relationships Can Be A Good Thing
Arguments in a relationship can be a good thing. Matter fact if it wasn’t for an argument I never would of started this blog and I can honestly say I don’t know where would I be in life?
I remember first time I wrote a blog, I was sitting on one of my extra dining room chairs that my mother had given me when I moved out of her house. The chair was placed in the corner of my bedroom in front of a shelf I purchased from Walmart and my 19 inch tube computer monitor sat on that white shelf that cost about 14 bucks.
The computer dock sat on the bottom shelf and papers were all over the place. I pushed a pile of papers on the floor, crumbled up the aluminum foil that once wrapped my Italian Cheeseburger and threw that next to my almost empty snapple bottle on my TV stand.
The food made me feel better, that was until my phone rang, I didn’t want to answer it because I knew who it was, my baby mother calling to argue again. I don’t remember what we were arguing about. It could of been the time I cheated on her, or about the time she cheated on me, or the time we were just mad at each other because we knew we had to deal with each other for 18 years.
Whatever it was, it felt like life would implode if we didn’t argue right then and there. We both said horrible things to each other. One of us eventually hung up without any notice or without saying goodbye. This happened too many times for me to exactly recall who did what, but I do remember this.
I sparked a blunt, or a Newport or a blunt and a Newport. I logged on to MySpace. Because I just knew she wrote about me. I hit my inbox, no messages, I didn’t see a bulletin from her at all, clicked her name. Private. You couldn’t tell me she didn’t write a blog about me or something.
Oh hell no! Call me any name you want, tell me your new guy is better than me or how I don’t live up to your ex, but block me on MySpace! It’s war. I did what any other petty person would do I wrote a blog. At the time I was so insecure about my writing I called it a poem.
It was a bunch of lines telling her exactly how I felt. It stated all the things I did that she had no clue I had done. I wrote it specifically to hurt her feelings. I clicked publish, turned off my phone, smoked another cigarette and went to sleep.
The next morning 100 people read my poem. I got a comment from a white girl with a black girl booty. We ended up kicking it. I wrote more blogs. I called my ex the virus that killed the Easter bunny. I wrote another poem, “my baby mother is testing me, stressing me to do something cleaver, rude, and that made for an ill poetic line.” 5000 people read that post. More comments. More subscribers. I blogged more and more, soon I wasn’t even thinking about the mother of my child any more.
In fact the more I blogged the more women I met. Pretty girls, from places that I only dreamed of going. The comments on my scribes grew. I asked this one girl to read my blog she said I don’t like reading poetry. So I wrote a blog.
It was more like one giant block of words and someone left a comment and said your stuff is good but you should start breaking up your sentences. Oh that was smart, why didn’t I think of that? So I did it.
I wrote every day on MySpace for 3 years I was getting 50,000 to 150,000 views on each blog I wrote. Comments would appear before I even got the time to click publish and go view what I had just written.
Meanwhile the girls all seemed to love me. My inbox was flooded with proposals from women. Messages read “I am going to be in Atlanta I want to meet you.” It was insane.
Girls from all over stopped by my Atlanta apartment like I was a tourist attraction. I deep 9 the girl from Texas. The girl from North Carolina gave it up and then got mad because I didn’t want to be with her. A girl from Cali wanted love, Girls from New York wanted to be my Ride of Die Chick.
Writing opened my world to a bunch of things and I didn’t even have my own website yet. So I started my own site. I left MySpace, I never imagined that I would become a professional blogger I just knew I wanted to blog.
If I wasn’t blogging I probably still be working some job that paid me enough to afford my rent, cable and good food. Occasionally enough to go on a trip or two when I have vacation time. I’d be the guy with a good job. I wouldn’t have my career. I would probably be stuck with a woman I no longer loved, who was a size 3 when we met but is now a size 14.
I was scared as hell when I quit my job, but I knew I would be successful. To think I owe this all to a stupid argument with my baby mother. Ha! She’s a good friend now and I am grateful we had that fight that night. In a way I owe this to her.
Since I started writing I’ve met Robert Dinero, Eddie Murphy, Drake, Wiz Khalifa, Matt Damon, Ben Stiller, Robert Redford, Anthony Mackie, Noreaga, Amber Rose, Zoe Kravitz, Jordin Sparks and more people my mother loves to tell her friends her son met.
I’ve led a full life, but I still have more things to do. I have to find someone to share this with, I don’t believe that Black Girls Are Easy, regardless of how entertaining the blog might be. What up homie? I am don’t believe that just because my skin color is darker that I have to marry someone who resembles my shade of gray. I believe that there are good women, black, white latina, asian and everything else.
In relationships we will have arguments and disagreements but they should make us better. It’s the reason why the presidential race calls for debates so we can figure things out. So an argument or a disagreement isn’t a bad thing. It could very well be your launching point to greatness.