“The Thirst Is Real.” Is it? Isn’t it? These days, “the thirst” has become a ubiquious term showing up everywhere from Frank Ocean’s tweets to ratchet reality shows. But what is the thirst? In our series “The ThirstFiles,” we decide to share stories and essays that communicate one angle of the thirst whether it involves a woman who develops a sexual addiction or a married man who stalks for affection via the internet. Just so you know, we’re not taking ourselves too seriously here but wanted to take a more focused approach to understanding this thing called “The Thirst” lol. Enjoy our fourth installment and let us know what other angles of the thirst you’d like to see explored. 

By Darren Bell*

Repeated listening of my “G’s Up H*e’s Down” playlist wasn’t enough to purge the bitter feelings of resentment experienced by my ego when a woman I had been dating for the past three months apparently decided to terminate our relationship, unbeknownst to me. I certainly have gone through my share of relationships to understand sugar can turn to s**t, things fall apart, and all good things must come to an end, but what bothered me and left me confounded was that she simply disappeared. Number changed, Facebook profile deleted, twitter account non-existent, no responses from email. She went missing in action, absent without leave, leaving me in that uncomfortable state of suspended uncertainty, relegated to ponder the infinite lists of what’s and whys which could all be summed up in three simple letters…WTF.

The more time went by, the more preoccupied I became with attempting to find answers to the mysteries left by my missing lover. In all honesty I wasn’t sure what I was looking for.  Her abrupt disappearing act engendered a wide range of emotions and the more I thought about the time she and I spent together, the private things we confided in each other, and the moments of intimacy we shared, the deeper I seemed to submerge myself in a convoluted sea of feelings and prospective actions I should or could take. While her contact information may have changed, I thought about the information I did have, like her email password which she voluntarily gave me earlier in our relationship. I could access her email account and snoop around, I thought. Or maybe I should do a pop-up visit at her job or her house. Until then, I’ve always thought that making unannounced visits to a significant other’s home or job breached the threshold of dating decorum and was a direct violation of the G-code so with all of these thoughts circulating, a conflict began to emerge. The strong, impassioned heartfelt emotion  I was feeling was starting to take over the logical part of my mind.  It was like I could literally see the good angel on my shoulder telling me to let things go, while simultaneously the bad angel was yelling at me saying “C’mon man, go to that b***h’s house and get some answers. Thankfully, my male ego wouldn’t allow me to act so desperately.

Before I let the situation turn me into a stalker,  I called one of my homegirls to vent. My intent was to explore the female psyche, solicit advice, insight, maybe get some warm words of comfort. Instead, after pouring my heart out to my female friend, I was met with cynicism and laughter. She was surprised that someone disappearing without notice was something I hadn’t experienced before. Her take was that men pull disappearing acts all the time without the consideration of a phone call or text message. And while she didn’t mean to laugh at me, she confessed that she found a slight sense of satisfaction knowing that a man actually experienced something women experience quite regularly. (Some friend huh?)

Our conversation was surprising to me. She spoke of people ending relationships without notice in such a cavalier manner that she made it seem like it was common practice. While we debated the different ways and reasons why lovers disappear and whether men were more culpable than women, it became clear that leaving a relationship without notice is a form of emotional abandonment. While this may be the first time for me, after talking to several other people they confirmed that it happens quite frequently. I decided instead of devoting energy to figuring out why my ex-lover left, I would let the good angel win and put the energy into moving on. I can’t front, I’m still hurt, and when Gotye’s “Someone I Used to Know” plays on the radio, I definitely turn that ish all the way up. But when all is said and done, I’m still bumping a track from my “G’s Up, Hoes Down” playlist. Right now, Jay-Z’s “On to the Next One” get’s my mind right.

*Author’s name changed to protect the thirsty.

Have you ever gotten thirsty when a man disappeared on you?

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“The Thirst Is Real.” Is it? Isn’t it? These days, “the thirst” has become a ubiquious term showing up everywhere from Frank Ocean’s tweets to ratchet reality shows. But what is the thirst? In our series “The ThirstFiles,” we decide to share stories and essays that communicate one angle of the thirst whether it involves a woman who develops a sexual addiction or a married man who stalks for affection via the internet. Just so you know, we’re not taking ourselves too seriously here but wanted to take a more focused approach to understanding this thing called “The Thirst” lol. Enjoy this installment and let us know what other angles of the thirst you’d like to see explored. 

By Pete Vaughn*

I always thought that when I got married it would get easier; “it” being the ability to keep women who were not my significant other from creeping into my life. See, I was, foolishly, under the guise that women were not into men who were married like they were into men who are single and ready to mingle. I was wrong, very. Maybe, and that’s a big maybe, before the advent of social networks, that premise held some weight. Now, it’s no more than a myth, believed to be true, until fate and reality rear their ugly e-heads.

As a social network connoisseur of sorts, it always starts with a “Hey Boo,” or for those affluent in the twitterverse, a #HeyBoo. At least that’s how I started. At the time I thought it was innocent, I was simply bored at work, bored with life, and in search of little bit of excitement. What I quickly found out was that there is a whole world of people bored in their marriages. This is not to be confused with unhappy, or out of love, just bored — and seeking excitement outside of their relationship instead of finding ways to incorporate it into their marriage. Before I knew it, I had dropped several “Hey Boos” and women were responding to all of them. Somehow, I had gone from innocent voyeur to predator to prey, all in a matter of a week.

Military wives, semi-famous women, the first lady of a *whispers* church, all  married and all in my Facebook and Twitter messages, texts, and emails saying things I could barely grasp. But trust, I figured out a way to respond to them. “The thirst” was real and alive, well-represented by these women professing their intrigue for how funny and swexy I was. If I’m being completely honest, I’m somewhere between Idris Elba and Morris Chestnut on the attractive scale – in my mind.  In reality, I’m short(er), chubbier and less successful than both brothers, not to mention the respective spouses of these women e-hollering. So what was it that caused our paths to cross?

Plain and simple, it was “the thirst.” This whole time, I had assumed the thirst was something only single people suffered from. I soon realized that there are just two different types of thirst. Single people suffer from a dehydration derived from loneliness. It’s a natural part of the dating scene, for both genders. Thirsting is simply a part of becoming attracted to a potential mate. You throw that thirst out there to show interest, and just pray it’s not perceived as creepy.

In the married world, thirsting is a distraction; the closet thing to Narnia. It’s the dialogue, often times awkward in its origins, as both of you slowly, and hopefully, reveal your relationship status. Once that’s out there, it’s all fun and “just flirting,” until one of you catches feelings; starts questioning your whereabouts, your sex life with your spouse, and why you can’t talk after 10pm. Before you know it, you’re damn near in a relationship with a married woman, as a married man. This is how it goes. This is how the movies told us (Read: me) it would go. Did I listen? Of course not. Because as a man, I gotta learn the hard way. So now I have three women in heavy rotation, needing and wanting constant attention they don’t get at home, attention I do get at home, and likely don’t give my own wife enough of because I’m too busy answering every notification from these other wives.

The number one rule that I thought one should remember is only interact with other married people. It was the single people who would cause strife and strain in your quest to diverge from infidelity. Nope. It’s these other married people. It’s like a hidden world, where the only way to even know about it is to get married, and then, WALLAH, you’re in. Now, with the thirst being at an all time high, the number one rule is, there are no rules. The only boundary I need to set is discipline. Just. Say. No. to the #HeyBoos.

Have you ever allowed yourself to be distracted from your real-life partner by “innocent” internet relationships?

*obviously, Pete Vaughn is not really Pete Vaughn. The author had to write under another name to disclose this personal story. 

Make sure to check out the first installment of The Thirst Files: How He Dickmatized Her

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Source: webstockpro.com

“The Thirst Is Real.” Is it? Isn’t it? These days, “the thirst” has become a ubiquitous term showing up everywhere from Frank Ocean’s tweets to ratchet reality shows. But what is the thirst? In our series “The Thirst Files,” we decide to share stories and essays that communicate one angle of the thirst whether it involves a woman who develops a sexual addiction or a married man who stalks for affection via the internet. Just so you know, we’re not taking ourselves too seriously here but wanted to take a more focused approach to understanding this thing called “The Thirst” lol. Enjoy our first installment and let us know what other angles of the thirst you’d like to see explored.  

Christina first saw him as she was walking out of her anthropology class. He was one of the football player types she liked. Tall, muscular with dark, smooth skin.  She was messing with another guy; but she knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so she indulged, free of all guilt. Her admiration was never vocalized until the day she saw him at the bar. She was a bit past tipsy and suddenly had the courage to approach him. On command he bought her a drink and they exchanged numbers. He… we’ll call him Mr. Magic, seeing that her phone was nestled in her bra, decided to call her just to watch it light up and vibrate in her cleavage.

She wasn’t turned off by his behavior because she knew, even then, she had no intention of calling him. Christina was with somebody at the moment. Over the next couple of years, he’d text her randomly, promising that he’d show her a good time. Sometimes she flirted back, agreeing to meet him only to go and spend time with the other guy. Eventually, under adverse circumstances Christina moved in with the other guy. The true nature of their relationship was exposed as she saw firsthand, how involved he still was with his baby mama and other random (older) women he was also sleeping with. Like clockwork, Mr. Magic called again, asking to take her out. This time she agreed. Ironically “the other guy” had the nerve to act offended when Mr. Magic showed up at the door to pick her up. She hopped in the car, watching the other guy give them the finger as they headed to the movies. On the way back to the house she shared with “the other guy” and his friend, Mr. Magic asked her, quite frankly, “So, when are we going to have sex?”

Christina couldn’t even by shocked by this very blunt, very crass question. She just responded with what she thought was the honest truth… “We’re not.”  In all honesty, Christina and Mr. Magic weren’t a great match. He wasn’t much for conversation, they had nothing in common and it seemed like the only thing he had to offer her was his body…specifically, his third leg. After years of subpar sex with “the other guy,” she wasn’t in a rush to take him up on that offer.

But Mr. Magic was quite persistent. Once she was able to escape “the other guy.” She saw him again and another time after that. One night Christina made spaghetti and decided to take some of it over to Mr. Magic’s hotel room. The spaghetti went uneaten. Watching television on the couch turned to fooling around and fooling around turned to the most mind-blowing sex Christina had ever had. She described the escapade to her friends, explaining how she became friends with his penis. (She named him.) She marveled at how delicious his dark skin contrasted with the white sheets. Everything about the sex was perfect. It was just the pillow talk and the subsequent interactions that left her wanting.

Sometime in between coitus she noted, jokingly, that Mr. Magic was timid. She saw his brow furrow in contemplation but he didn’t respond, so she figured he didn’t find her quip humorous. Later, hours later, as he walked her to the door of his hotel room, he asked in all seriousness, “Timid…that means shy right?”

So Mr. Magic wasn’t a genius; but it was already too late, Christina was, as they say, sprung off that thang. There was very little Mr. Magic could say or do to discourage her from seeing (and sexing) him again.

He was drafted into the NFL, so for an extended period of time, she and her friend were completely cut off. It was during this time that Christina realized just how pressed she had become. Lucky for her, it wasn’t long before Mr. Magic was back in town. And he wanted to see her. Instead of driving to her apartment, he texted her directions at 10 o clock at night and Christina thirstily drove the 2 hours to his hotel room. This time, the sex wasn’t as good as it was before but still enjoyable. (Mr. Magic was on some jack hammer ish this time.)

Later he was spent and Christina joked about him being narcoleptic. Immediately, it was clear he wasn’t familiar with this word either. This time Christina tried to educate him by providing a reference to the Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo movie. He was familiar. Then he took the association even further, asking “Is that kind of like rigormortis?” Trying to make him more comfortable, Christina agreed. “Yeah, kinda.”  Mr. Magic then went on to share with Christina that he was familiar with rigormortis because his grandfather was a mortician. And in the middle of their post-coital, cuddle time, Mr. Magic told Christina that he used to help his grandfather break the bones of the dead bodies that came into the funeral homes.

Romantic.

Because of Mr. Magic’s schedule, he and Christina weren’t able to ever link up again. Despite his…challenges and the fact that they’d never had a substantial conversation, she still yearned to have her friend back. That was about a year ago and even though Christina knows, deep down, that she and Mr. Magic aren’t well suited for each other; she’s still going through withdrawals.

Have you ever been dickmatized? How did you break free?

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