Cassie_8433-FINALKarma’s a bitch (and so is Cassie!)

Friends, Romans, countrymen — lend me your ears. I have something very important for you all to hear. Just kiddin’ — I plan on rambling on and on about shit I think is important but probably has no real social relevance.

Some weeks when I sit down to write this column, I know exactly what I want to say. Then there are weeks like this one when I have no frickin’ clue what to say or what to write about.

I am always anxious to be relevant, witty, funny and heartfelt. I wish that I could just say, “Oh the words just flowed out of me like water,” but the truth is sometimes I struggle and over-think things. So random irrelevant story it is.

The first time I remember being called a “faggot” was by my horrible cousin, Eddie Paul. He was a year or two older than me and a real jerk. I was about 11 years old and had no idea what the word even meant, but he said it with such hate and malice that I knew it had to be a bad thing. He was always getting into trouble and bullied everyone. He was also bigger than all of the other kids so he would usually get away with being mean to us. If anyone ever tattled on him, he would beat you up the first time you were alone with him. He really was the jerk-faced bully from every movie ever made and back then it was something you just had to deal with.

We were playing Frisbee in the front yard at my aunt’s house near White Rock Lake and he would always throw it high and wide so I would have to chase it. As you may know, I am not and have never been real sporty, so after the fifth or sixth time I had to retrieve the Frisbee from under a car or in another person’s yard, I was fed up. I threw that damn disc and hard and as far as I could to make him go chase it for once.
It landed in the middle of a rock garden that had a few large cacti clustered in the center.

Then he said it. “You stupid faggot, you throw like a girl!” My eye twitched in anger and a part of me snapped. While he was bent over retrieving the Frisbee, I started to run towards him. I shoved him face-first into the cactus.

He screamed and I ran. I jumped the fence to the back yard and walked into the kitchen, where most of the family were gathered and acted like nothing had happened. I even laughed really loud at whatever story my Uncle Clarence was telling. That’s when they heard Eddie Paul screaming. Everyone ran to help him, and my aunt and great-grandma spent the next half hour pulling cactus needles out of his chest, arm and a few from his head and cheek. When Eddie Paul said, “Jamie did it, he pushed me,” his mother said, “No he did not, he was in the kitchen with us.”

Needless to say, I am not proud of what I did, and karma would eventually get me back. I backed up into that same damned cactus and got poked in the ass, and not in the good way. But the next time that Eddie Paul hit me, I fought back. He kicked my ass, but I got in a few good punches. We never fought again after that. I guess the point to my story is to stand up to your bullies before you get poked in the ass.

Dear Cassie, I was recently in L.A. and had the pleasure of meeting one of the sexiest guys alive. This guy has literally a million followers on Facebook and Instagram — that’s how sexy he is. We have been friends on Facebook for over a year but never hung out. He noticed I was in L.A. and we decided to hang out. I met him at his house then we went to a really nice club and he Uber’d us there. We held hands in the car and the physical attraction was definitely there. At the club, he kissed me in front of everyone and introduced me to people. We decided to go back to my hotel where we ended up having the most passionate sex ever and I learned a little about his life. He seems a little reserved, though, and my texts are always longer than his.

The next day we went back to his house and watched Netflix and I ended up letting him be the first guy to fuck me. It just felt so right. This was a week and a half ago … I don’t know if it’s normal for me to be falling this hard but I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s on a vacation right now without Wi-Fi, so I’m not hearing from him as much as I’d like to. He has told me he’s not looking for a relationship right now because he had trust issues with his ex and it ended badly. They were engaged and this was over a year ago. But then I’ll get texts from him that send mixed signals. Like I said I would be willing to put him first and he said, “Well at least you’d get to travel with me.” He told me he’s been pretty guarded and there’s a lot more for me to see. I asked him when I visit L.A. soon would he like to spend some time with me and he said yes and he looks forward to knowing me better.

So, Cassie, it’s like: What the fuck do you think is going on? Am I just obsessing? I really felt something I’ve never felt with a guy before and I’ve never had a serious relationship. I want him more than anything and the last few days I’ve had to pop my Xanax like candy because my anxiety has been so bad. Its two weeks until I see him but I haven’t heard from him in two days either because he doesn’t have good Wi-Fi on his vacation but it has showed he’s been online. Do I take him on a date and try to win him over when I’m there? What can I do to melt his heart when I visit LA that would make him feel special? I know most guys don’t like getting flowers. I’m definitely not going to be the first to text him anytime soon which is so hard for me. I’m scared of running him off. I wear my heart on my sleeve. Signed, Big D falling for L.A.

Dear Big D, You sound like that man’s dick has made you crazy. You my friend, have been dickmatized! I get it — a good dick attached to a guy you are into has the power to turn a smart, rational person into a 12-year-old girl: Giddy, excited, anxious and paranoid. You get butterflies in your stomach and doubt in your head. You feel this strange need to be reassured that what you shared was as important and fabulous to him as it was to you. You might need to see the movie, He’s Just Not That Into You, just to prepare yourself.

I get that you don’t want to scare him away by being too into him but don’t be ashamed of your feelings just maybe try to reel them in a bit. Take deep breaths and try to pull back on the stalking. Don’t worry that just because he was shown to be online and didn’t text you that he is not thinking about you. Overthinking and what-ifs are poison to a relationship. Texting is not a good way to judge feelings. So much gets lost in translation. Beware of self-medicating the situation. Keep yourself busy until you and he can spend time together again. And whoever said guys don’t like to get flowers was a dumbass — everybody likes to get flowers. Stay strong but don’t lose yourself trying to make things happen. Good luck, Cassie.

The gayborhood has become a bit of a dangerous place, so please use good judgment when out and about. Watch out for yourself and watch out for each other. Stay safe my babies.

Remember to love more, bitch less and be fabulous. XOXO, Cassie Nova.

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This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition November 13, 2015.