Why is it Hard to Love the Black Man?

There's this Nayyirah Waheed verse that says:

Things that should be asked often in every type of relationship:
How is your heart?
Is your heart breathing happy here?
Do you feel free?

I interpret this to mean:
Are you okay?
Is your heart okay?
Is something bothering you?

Ever since I read it I thought it'd be a good way to communicate with that special someone who's important to me instead of always delving into me and my multitude of problems and seeming so selfish and unaware of what the man may be going through, so I can connect with that other being that's in my life.

So I ask the brothas in my life these questions, and these are the answers I get:

"Why are you asking me this?"
"Is this what you called to ask me? I thought you called for something important."
"How long are you going to continue to ask me this?"
"I've told you that I'm fine, why do you keep asking?"
"Why must you ask me this question every time you call me?"
"I'm good. Can we talk about something else?"

From all the black men in my life, every single one of them, from my brother to my lover.

It leaves me to wonder: Why is it so hard to love a black man? Why are black men an instrument of study, puzzle, wonder, befuddlement? Why must their love remain so enigmatic?

...Anita Writes...

This piece I understand is a little outside the norm for this blog. But being single also entails existing in connection with others, opening up your energy to accepting those that are worthy of being welcomed in it. That's how you achieve some balance with the solo world you are completely immersed in by tapping into the positive energy of your loved ones and letting that rejuvenate you.

I also wanted y'all to ask the folks in your life these questions...to help you connect better, you know, since life is precious and all...