Poundcake's Column: Snacks Of The Neighborhood

If I was to think back at how I got to this point, a few experiences come to mind. I'm a 26-year-old black homosexual male from a small town west of Cleveland. From the very beginning of my childhood, it always seemed that I was looking for acceptance. Whether it be from my father who wasn't around, my brother who was always the popular guy, or my peers who teased mercilessly to the four-eyed, big-nosed kid with the high-pitched voice. I remember when I was younger, my mom threw my brother and I the best birthday parties. She would rent out a skating rink, swings n' things, or movie theaters and invite our entire grade to come. I'm not sure if it's because she loved parties or if she just felt guilty her sons didn't have a dad. She even would invite the whole neighborhood to popsicles and ice cream after school at my house. Those same methods I apply now and get a very different result than I got then.

In high school I had the pleasure (not really) of watching all of my friends lose their virginity. Couples disguised me in high school. Who did these idiots think they were, thinking they could find their fairytale love in a sea of inadequate delinquency?Love was not on my radar. I had to get the hell out of town first. They could have told me, "Cody, you can own this city!" and I would be like, "Oh hellno get me out of here." 2011 was my year, I was graduating, and leaving all my insecurities and loneliness in the past, or so I thought.

College was so different from what I'd ever know. So many different cultures, clubs, events, and sooo many hot guys. I lost my first virginity, and I say first, because every gay knows there's two, anyway, I lost my virginity to a mutual friend of a friend. I legit think he's a meth addict now, and no, it was not good. But after that, it awakened something in me that had been lost or I had been robbed of. I was a mean mean effin' machine. I effed almost anyone. I don't even know what void I was trying to fill. I'm thinking I was just making up for lost time. Over the course of 5 years, I lost count. Let's just say, this car has a lot of miles on it, but it's trusted and reliable. But I had bigger inner struggles than just my sex count. I still resented couples and I still hadn't found love.

My Poundcake did bring all the boys to the yard. Making them stay was a different story. I wasn't sure if they were like me in the aspect of making up for lost time, or if I just wasn't significant enough. I compared me bringing guys home to my childhood when I would give snacks to the whole neighborhood, I hoped I'd make friends, or in this case, a lover. I was hoping it would just happen. But it didn't and I got used to it. I come to expect nothing from anyone and to love someone you have to love yourself first. It's super cliche but I don't think I'll ever find a love greater than the one within. If a man proves himself worthy, he'll be blessed with all the snacks of the neighborhood all to himself.

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