I Was In The Talking Stage With A Prepubescent, Human-Adjacent, Biped | by Cordezelina Timnettizarr | Aug, 2025
by Cordezelina Timnettizar
*Gulp/Flesh-popping sound
*Gets reeled in on fishing pole wire out of water and into 40s era tin bucket with small pockets of water inhabited by tadpoles
Well, well, well (in an old, raspy, southern masculine voice). What do we have here? Looks like someone took the bait.
If you’re someone new here, or unfamiliar with me at a personal level on and offline, you may have thought you stumbled upon one of those fan-fictions, or wacky and ironic stories aimed at proving a point. Or maybe, you suspected that you stumbled upon the confessions of a sexual deviant or degenerate online, that you believed to be stupid or cocky enough to divulge the deepest and darkest parts of their sickening fetishes and desires online for the masses to theoretically see, but not likely see, thus meaning that they thought they were in the clear within the sea of numerous other posts, only for the clever you to come across a treasure chest filled with youtuber-turned-pedophile hit piece material. Or, if you happen to be The Politician, who I know, and who I’ve already talked about in my post about gaslights and grass sights, then you may have thought that your potentially deeply held suspicions of me being a pedophile and or a zoophile, given the title of this post, were indeed true and that my own supposed admission of it, again through the very title of this post, serves as enough evidence of this long suspected thing.
If any of you types of people mentioned earlier had to fill out a questionnaire or similar document in the gulag of some fictional USSR-coded country, where meeting the criteria for the things I shared in the preceding paragraph meant having to mark it in a check box, and have an authoritarian prison guard armed with an AK-47 dump some shots into your domes, then by now, your sheets of paper would be covered in red splatter marks, since you all would’ve received more headshots than many of the plasticy and generic pornstars on the main pages of PornHub and XVideos.
Surprisingly, I didn’t kidnap him from his mother at the local zoo during the dark and misty after-hours of the night. Even more surprising, is that the 5 year old gorilla in question is in fact no gorilla at all, and is actually a young, gay, chubby, feminine, black man in his early twenties who I met in the most humble, organic, and human of ways: on Tinder.
*random person interrupts court procedure by aggressively standing up and pointing at me
“Aha! So you’re actually just a cowardly, homophobic, racist person imbued with hate running around in a rampant fashion targeting marginalized communities! It’s a bit of a far cry from fucking kids and animals, but it’s something! Checkmate bitch!!!”
No. I don’t think this is the right way of framing this. Is there some cognitive dissonance at play here under the surface? Potentially, maybe, or maybe I’m just afraid to explicitly say yes because it conflicts with a more positive conception of myself. However, for now, I’m still going to go with no.
In reality, I’m a young black individual who recently exited the talking stage with this guy — who we’re going to call Black Mordecai (BM) — where my emotions oscillated between the different areas of a spectrum of emotions, which all culminated in bitterness, resentment, feelings of missing out, and frustration in connection to numbness among other things. I am calling, or did call (to myself of course) Black Mordecai (BM) a 5 year old gorilla for a few reasons that I’ll make clear in the rest of this post. But before I get there, we must of course start with Genesis.
In the beginning, there was nothing, except a series of sometimes carefully thought out and other times mindlessly-executed swipes on Tinder profiles. One day, I stumbled across a profile, containing images of a young man who I initially thought was a woman. This was because of his aforementioned feminine look, filters, smooth melanated skin, short dreads, full lips, smooth features, and curvy/BBWish physique. Even after realizing my mistake, I still went through with swiping right, and this was because I’m a virgin with sexually uncertain feelings due to reasons spanning some years now and before that aren’t all that straightforward, no pun intended. At this point, I think it may be fair to say that it’s complicated, and for now, I’ll leave it at that. The point is, I’m in a time in my life now where my virginity, subsequent lack of romantic and sexual experience, desire to step outside of my comfort zone, as well as my natural curiosity about things in a “why not” or “idk, let’s see” sort of way is pushing me to start to learn more about myself in that realm and potentially get some answers about who I am from a sexual and romantic standpoint.
Anyways, I swiped right, and went about the rest of my days swiping around on the app, and doing other activities outside of my phone. Days and at most one or two weeks or so go by, and I receive a notification from the app about a match. I looked forward to it because I rarely had any matches on the app, and when I did, I usually never received a response, or I chickened out from it, or I felt uncomfortable or objectified like I expressed in my emotionally charged post about everyone else being the problem. I saw that it was BM, who I had forgotten about for some time, and then at some point I revisited his profile, and actually read it. He claimed he wasn’t looking for any hookups, and understandably made clear that he wasn’t a trans person, and then he also said that he was a respectful and calm or chill person or something along those lines which was all fine to me. What made things better on top of him already looking attractive and saying what he said in his bio, was that he was actually the first to initiate the conversation with a simple “hey”. I think I might’ve responded with a simple greeting of my own, but more importantly, from the jump, I told him about my inexperience and sexual questioning as a way to be transparent about parts of myself that I felt was important in situations like these. I forgot what exactly BM said back to me, but I remember him being receptive and respectful of it, and we continued chatting a bit on the app, and he even called me sweet.
Throughout the overall app-based interaction, and more specifically the moments in between our responses to one another, I felt blends of excitement and anxiety. After all, this was a new and different experience for me, because this was the first time where I was seriously talking with a guy interested in someone like me, who’s not even fully secure or sure in their sexuality, and BM also seemed like he genuinely wanted to talk to me and was interested in me.
My memory of these early encounters are foggy, but at some point he asked if we could exchange numbers, and move our interactions over to private messages on our phones, which I agreed to. Over there on my messages app, we continued where we left off, and he eventually brought up my inexperience and uncertainty, and asked me why I never tried experiencing things with a woman first. At the time, I told him that I wanted to explore and learn more about myself, which is true, but as I’m sitting here writing this very post, I think it’s also true to say that me ending up in the talking stage with BM and not a woman first has to do with sheer numbers on the app leaning towards men, me rarely if ever getting attention from women on the app, and me also wanting to take a step closer towards losing my virginity through a potential side of me yet to be explored, after being disappointed by yet another woman who could’ve potentially been something with me earlier this summer.
At some point, he said he wanted to talk to me, either in general, or about my uncertainty in particular, and even though I was nervous, I still went through with calling him, and we had our first chat over the phone. I want to say this here out of some guilt, but, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the way he sounded. I know it sounds wrong to do this, but I imagined and projected onto BM a much more seductive, feminine, and gay dominican male-esque voice, than the more shy (I’m trying my best here) and lispy voice that more accurately reflects his voice. Hearing this honestly worsened my uncertainty surrounding him, because as already expressed I’m uncertain about my sexuality, and the clearly filtered style of his images on his tinder profile, which made me fear that he was potentially catfishing men online, and that I may have unfortunately found myself in one of those situations. Regardless, I pressed forward and gave some information about myself and probably what I was looking for, and I was on the line with him for over an hour, after not having eaten or had water after a workout earlier that day which exacerbated my anxiety about this new experience.
Towards the end of this first call, he decided to play music, and asked if I liked it, which I assumed was an attempt by him to not only enjoy himself with music he seriously liked, but to also foster a vibe or potentially intimate environment with me. I told him that I liked the slow, new age, R&B type of music he was playing, but in reality I wasn’t really in the mood to listen to any music and was more focused on the fact that I was on the line with a guy that I was getting to know for potentially intimate reasons. I felt a bit awkward though with this music and us staying on the line in silence as it played, and even though I physically felt like shit for the previously mentioned reasons, I still feel like even if I adequately tended to myself earlier to avoid those shitty physical feelings, I still would’ve felt “weird” about it because in general something like intimacy is kind of a foreign thing to me in this way, and is something that requires vulnerability which is something that I don’t think I’m truly comfortable in just sharing with anyone on the fly. I found some way to get myself out of the call, and we texted a little afterwards before I gave everything a rest.
During this following down time by myself in the very early morning, I felt a consistent anxiety or unease of some kind. I wasn’t scared or terrified of BM as if he were some kind of psychotic, yandere-esqe, stalker lusting for my presence and blood; instead, like my friend Lorenzo adequately framed it, I was experiencing an emotional whiplash, because I was essentially moving quickly within a matter of hours through the stages of progression within a potential relationship, after having very little to no real progress for the vast majority of my life up until that point. It was probably moving faster than I could handle, and I needed to stop and breathe, especially since our potential arrangement as a couple was and is still relatively unorthodox, and unknown to those closest to me.
Either during the same day, or following day, given my sleep schedule, we texted and talked on the phone again, and like the previous day and for the remainder of our online interactions, I would always carry with me an anxiety around us, but I still moved forward. Our second phone call, if I remember correctly, was more about some of our earlier life experiences, expectations, and questions surrounding sexuality, relationships, and all of that other related stuff. I remembered being asked by him about my previous failures at trying to start something with a girl I liked, and after sharing something personal like that, he actually validated me in my attempts which he saw no issue with and that those situations had more to do with problems on their own ends. He also asked about love languages, and how his where reassurance and acts of service, and when he asked me I tried to give an answer that might make sense about me which amounted to something like acts of service, but the truth is, I didn’t really know given my inexperience, and didn’t really care about that type of question, as shallow as that might seem.
Now, this may have been from another call we had, but I still feel like it’s important mention, so, he asked me how far I’ve ever gotten with someone, and I told him that I moved no further than a few kisses which made me feel nothing beyond discomfort for reasons outside of the scope of this particular post, and he said that this may mean that I’m someone who needs to build an emotional connection with someone first in order for the arousal to come later, and he misused the term “sapiosexual” to describe it, which is a mistake he recognized in making. This need for emotional connection I think may apply to me, and my slight boners to moments of reciprocation from him as well as signs of his interest in me may point to what he said of me being true. He then went on to say that he’s a virgin, much like me, which was to my surprise and made everything else feel all the more fine tuned, but then he said that he’s only never engaged in penetrative sex but has given oral which is something that he was still open to doing, which I was fine with of course since my primary goal was to sexually explore myself, or at least start that process. He claimed that he didn’t think of sex much, and that even the most sexual of his acts were something that he felt didn’t need to be rushed towards, and I accepted his answers at the time.
After some silences, I got off the call and went about my roaming of my apartment in the early morning like a ghost.
I always felt a bit off or had a suspicion about the claims surrounding his virginity. From the way he described himself and his feelings, he seemed to be a person with pretty low desires for sex, and thus wouldn’t really be in a rush to do anything, which probably would’ve been good for me given the emotional whiplash; but I struggled to reconcile this supposed truth of his with him consistently calling me handsome, sharing somewhat provocative and thirst trappy photos with me, asking if I could send photos and videos of myself because he wanted to see more of me, and in retrospect, looking for deep and meaningful relationships on an app primarily geared towards sexual interactions (yes, I can see how this may be ironic). He would tell me that the ball was in my court, implying that I had say over the pace of our interactions, but I always felt like it was an illusion and that he really wanted things to progress faster than they were in order to do totally not-sexual things. Right?
Despite these lingering suspicions, I took him for his word, and thought about a good way to meet up or hangout with him after travelling with my mother for a few days to go visit some family. He was consistently preoccupying my mind during the trip, with all the curiosity and anxiety that followed along, which weren’t in any way helped by my close ones’ lack of knowledge of the conversations that were happening between us. I remembered him sending me a few pictures of himself during the trip, none of which were nudes, but still felt like suggestive invitations to something more from me, in retrospect even though, again, according to what he said, he wasn’t the type of person to regularly have any serious sexual feelings. Some of the photos sent were more raw and unfiltered compared to the ones found on his profile or his instagram, which I followed.
During the trip we talked over the phone once about recent life updates and our opinions about the third season of Squid Game. We had a few laughs about it, and after the conversation felt like it wasn’t going anywhere else, I decided to let him go for the moment, so that I could go do other things, and take a break from talking on the phone with him. I remembered him asking for photos or videos of me during the trip, and all I provided were two images of my brother and I that our mother wanted to take, and that was all I felt like taking and sending because I’m not a picture person, and found taking pictures to be a tedious and pretty annoying thing. I didn’t even look that good in them anyways.
In the times where I wasn’t actively contacting him during the trip, I found myself experiencing conflicting feelings. At times, the thought of having sex with him was arousing, and at other times, part of me felt like I was trying to force myself out of my low libido and uncertainty about him sexually. One image he shared with me was one where his flaccid bulge was visible, which was something I didn’t know how to feel about, and is something that bothered me at times. Having to deal with a penis in a potential sexual encounter with another man is something that I think about from time to time, but is something that usually stays in the part of my mind where it’s left untouched or never really thought about in depth. From a physical standpoint, BM’s other, more soft features, and voluptuousness were at the forefront of my attraction, and things such as his penis and voice took a back seat. What further conflicted my sexual feelings towards him was my practically dead libido, which I’ve been experiencing on an on-and-off basis for the past 4 to 5 years or so, which made it a bit tricky for me to determine if the conflicting feelings had more to do with a real and deep seated lack of overall attraction towards him, or if it had more to do with my body’s low sexual mood influenced by other hormonal, broadly biological, or psychological factors. I essentially forced myself to masturbate at times during the trip, often with the thought of him in mind, in order to feel something, or prove something to myself, and I want to stress that there was no specific ill-will directed towards BM with this specific matter since my feelings of sexual flatness extended over to women too, who I’ve consistently found attractive at different times in my life.
Romantically, or spiritually, I honestly don’t remember feeling much of a deep or personal connection with him, which from my standpoint made things feel distant, but in my opinion, was also reasonable or expected for someone like me. At that point, I’ve only spoken to him a handful of times, and never met with him face-to-face in a real life encounter, where getting a feel for the person is much better than through text or inert photos. I had only known him for around if not a little over a week, and I don’t think many would take issue with me not expecting to fall in love with someone I’ve known for a quarter of a month.
After I returned home from the trip, I was looking forward to setting up plans with him to meet and chat in person. I was eager to do this because it was a way for me to step out of my comfort zone, explore dating, and learn more about myself as it pertains to what attracts me. I remembered talking with him about it through text, and he came up with the idea of me visiting his apartment, which came as a bit of surprise to me given that the idea of a date with him in a different location just a week earlier in our digital interactions was to him quite the leap. Despite my uncertainty and anxiety, I still accepted it and we scheduled it for some time on a Wednesday back in July over a phone call, with this being the last one we had. In between our awkward silences we gave minor updates about what we were up to, and then we talked about hanging out in his apartment where we could eat snacks, talk to one another, and smoke weed, which sounded good to me. I confided in an older man I know about my situation at the time with BM, and he suggested that I change the meeting spot to somewhere more neutral like a restaurant, given my lack of information about BM as well as potential dangers. I held similar feelings, and asked BM through text if we could meet at a restaurant instead of his place first, and he was happy to do it, even going out of his way to send me the address of a restaurant in his neighborhood where we could meet, with Wednesday still being the accepted date.
From that agreement on, I waited in anticipation, thinking and worrying about how it would turn out. I was also concerned about the excuse that I felt I would need to create in order to prevent any sniffling noses from coming my way. Ultimately, I decided to tell my mom that I planned to have lunch with a friend on that Wednesday, and left it at that. Everything seemed to be in the clear and accounted for leading up to the date, until I remembered that it just happened to fall on the exact same day as my jury duty appointment with the US-fucking-court system. I had never done jury duty back then, and my father who was experienced with it told me that it wouldn’t be a long process and that I might even be let go if I was lucky. With that in mind, I anticipated being at the courthouse for no more than 4 hours or so, starting from the early morning, which still would’ve left me the large bulk of the afternoon to meet with BM at the restaurant, which also fit nicely into his work schedule since if I remember correctly, he got out from work at around 3pm or so. Unfortunately for me though, on the day of attending jury duty, it was revealed to me that the participants could be held in the courthouse until as late 4 or 5pm, and because my parents were, and still are, uncomfortable with me being outside of the damn house past 8pm, it didn’t feel like I would have the time or space to push the date to a later time that same day. For this reason, I texted BM about the situation and asked him if we could reschedule the date for a later time that same week. We decided to push it to the Friday of that same week, and BM told me to keep him consistently posted about new developments in my jury duty.
Lucky for me, I was released early from jury duty the following Thursday morning, and felt that I could now focus on and prepare myself for the date without having to worry about any other obligations to the state. However, like usual, seemingly, when it comes to this sort of stuff, the universe or powers that may be decided to fuck me in the form of BM coming down with a sickness on Thursday or Friday that made him nauseous and physically hot. Even though he told me that he was still open to making his way to the restaurant and making the best of the day with me, I understood that he wasn’t feeling well, and that coupled with my anxiety, and the time left in the summer that I had, I chose to go along with the plan of rescheduling our date for another time where he would be healthy enough to go.
From there as the days went by, I would send him texts every now and then where I would ask how he’s doing and check up on him and his condition. As time went on, the frequency of his responses decreased, and he told me that he would end up falling asleep for many hours because he was not only still working, but was also taking some kind of steroid-based medicine that would put him to sleep. I accepted his answers of course, but then at some point a semi-jokey and semi-serious thought creeped into my mind, which was a suspicion of the cause of this decrease in his engagement with me being him seeing or talking to another guy instead of his yearly sickness. I leaned more towards the jokey side of the thought, and brushed it aside, thinking that it wasn’t based on any evidence or reality. But after around a week or so of relatively little communication, and checking up on him, I decided to follow up with him on the day of our first date, and that’s when things explicitly started to go downhill.
After the text I sent to him asking if he was still down to meet and eat at the restaurant, he sent me a long paragraph explaining to me what was really going on. In it, he confessed to me that he was seeing/talking to another guy, and wanted to explore and focus on that instead of dealing with me. This was of course an ironic turn of events, considering as mentioned earlier, that I suspected of him talking to another guy but disregarded that idea. He also told me that going into our talking stage, he thought that he would be fine with things concerning me that he knew deep down inside that he never really was fine with. Whenever I experience hurtful or disappointing things like this, I consistently experience this delayed effect of hurt and anger, that doesn’t affect me until later. As a result, I didn’t feel much of anything, or react in any significant way, and may have even laughed or chuckled or smiled a bit — if I remember correctly — upon reading his text. I then remember saying something else and then asking him if his sickness was even real given its seemingly spontaneous nature, since it happened to fall on him on the day right before we were supposed to meet. He then told me that his sickness was real and that he was overheating, and then he put a facepalming emoji at the end of that text. I guess I was wrong to suspect that the illness was not real, but then again, he withheld crucial information about his dating life which was completely unbeknownst to me, and I still think it may be possible that if the sickness was real, it wasn’t bad enough for him to not respond like he used to. Based on what he told me and the vibe that I received from him as a person, he didn’t seem like the type of guy to freely give his emotional and romantic energy to random men in very short periods of time, which makes me believe that he was likely talking to this other guy for more than a day, and could’ve been engaging with this man for over a week.
I possibly said some other stuff, and then I remembered asking him if my sexual experience and uncertainty were the reasons why he felt unwilling to continue things with me. He then said that my uncertainty played a major role in his decision, and that he didn’t feel secure, validated, or reassured enough with me in order to move things forward, if my memory is correct. He also said that there were other issues he had with me, but was vague about what exactly these other issues were. I then said that the secrecy of this from my parents and close ones had to do with me not having clearly defined myself sexually yet, and I continued by saying something like me needing to step outside of my comfort and try to actively learn about myself or seek out sexual answers regardless of my uncertainty, and then BM said that my uncertainty and inexperience weren’t the issue, which contradicted his earlier text of my uncertainty being a major driving factor. He most likely reiterated what he said earlier about validation, reassurance, and feeling like my desire for him was inconsistent. I then gave him a simple “fine” or something like that, and he asked me what that meant before going on about something else. Him asking me what I meant in the way he did bothered and annoyed me a little, because it felt like I was being told that I owed him something, or that he was the one that had the right to be upset about anything, when I’m the one being told that I was abandoned for someone else this whole time. I responded by talking about the emotional whiplash, inexperience, and other experiences I had, and then at some point BM told me that although he feels bad for hurting me that it still doesn’t mean that I can treat him like he isn’t human. That line of his was complete bullshit in retrospect, because I don’t remember ever dehumanizing BM in ANY of our interactions. Me giving small responses in text to the things he was saying to me because I genuinely did not know what else to say is not the same as dehumanizing someone. I’m not accepting that.
Lastly, I asked him what happens now between us, and BM responded by saying that this didn’t have to be the end of our story, like we were fucking disney princesses, and that we still had much work to do in terms of building a connection. He asked if I was still okay with being friends with him, and said that if the feeling wasn’t mutual that he would understand me wanting to part ways. I then asked why he was capable of being friends with me instead of something more, since things like validation and reassurance are often sought from friends, and he replied by saying that friends had much less of a responsibility when it came to those things and his other romantic needs than a partner. For that last text message he sent to me, much like the others ones, I waited several minutes to several hours before sending a reply of my own, while also thinking and hoping that BM was on the other end in a similar situation as mine, waiting to see what would be said next.
I contemplated accepting his offer, where I would continue to lurk around in his private messages, followers’ list, and if possible, his mind, with the potential of taking things further with him in the future. However, I also thought about what position I would be set aside into if I were to accept it, and I can best summarize it as some form of sexual or emotional cuckoldry, where I would be kept on the sidelines as a last resort while BM had his good times and fun with men that he deemed to be of greater importance than me. And given my experiences in the past of rejection, and the situations that I’ve heard about the lives of others through social media, I didn’t plan on being BM’s next best thing if his newer plans ended up failing. This all culminated in a somewhat quick action of me telling him “goodbye”, before I blocked and deleted his phone number like his instagram account, which I did earlier that day.
*Zones off
*Random middle-aged white guy in khakis and a grey-buttoned collared shirt starts snapping fingers in my face. “Hey! You still haven’t told us why you called this “Black Mordecai” of yours a 5 year old gorilla. That’s very mean you know.”
Right.
I called BM a 5 year old because of his dissatisfaction with me not providing him with enough reassurance and validation. When he told me about reassurance being one of his love languages in our earlier phone conversations, I immediately felt like this was the type of person that craved constant or consistent communication and words that would make him feel good from the people that he was infatuated with, which at the time, included me. At that moment, he seemed like the type of person that would maybe start to panic or desperately claw at me for a response, after not receiving one for more than a few minutes or hours, after reaching out first. BM made sure to tell me that he wasn’t this type of unnecessarily needy person, but with what he told me when breaking things off with me, I now believe that he was aware of his behaviors, and that my suspicions of him were once again true. Perhaps more could be said here, in the form of me answering a question about if I think consistent communication in general within relationships is inherently tedious or needy, or in the form of me sharing with you an irony regarding the need for consistent communication when I reach out for something that I just noticed as writing this; but, I’ll just say that this need of his, mimicked that of young child’s need from their parents of constant and unwavering attention, where anything short of that would be a major problem. Even when I reminded him of my desire to go on a date with him, which in my eyes, was evidence enough of some kind of interest that I had in him, he still told me that it wasn’t enough for him. And what about me? What about my perspective and situation? Unlike him, I’ve never been in a relationship, never engaged in any sexual activities with anyone, and don’t have my sexual identity clearly defined as much as his, while being told by this person who I’ve never really met that they want to end the talking stage with me because I didn’t fall face-first with my hands completely behind my back into love. For someone that appeared and claimed to be emotionally intelligent, sensitive, and patient, I felt and saw none of these qualities really shine when we had our final conversations.
I called BM a gorilla because this was my way of getting back at him for angering and hurting me the way he did when he confessed to me how he really felt about this whole thing and what he had been doing. If he isn’t going to hear or see anything from me anymore, then who cares if I dehumanize him by falsely removing his humanity, and rendering him a primate in my eyes. I understand that comparisons between people of my race and primates like gorillas come from a racially sensitive and harmful history, but I want to express myself in some way, and I think for an often emotionally repressed person such as myself, it’s fine to sometimes let a little loose once in a blue moon in one of the most quiet and non-physical ways since I’m practically speaking into a void on this platform anyways.
It may be difficult to tell, but several days have passed in between the different sections of this post that I wrote, and although he still crosses my mind from time to time, I feel that I’m starting to gradually drift away from him emotionally, if I was ever truly there with him to begin with. I’m not sure. Just as uncertain as I was going in. The initial passion that I had for this has largely faded, and in my mind this was supposed to be more cinematic or thought-provoking than it actually is or feels like.
*looks around in bucket at you (the fish)
“Ehh, I’ll just have some of that old cornbread instead…”
*picks you up and tosses you back into water…….
