tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78975744645206300532024-02-21T07:05:25.119-08:00InMyMind - I Am She & She is IThe result of the melodies I make with my pen, the hymns of my life, the stories, my diary's imagination etcPrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-88185130820552625992011-09-27T18:56:00.000-07:002011-09-27T19:06:31.358-07:00Part 4: College Drop Out<i>It has taken me over a year to pick up the rest of the series because I had to decide what I wanted to share and what I wanted to "forget". But it is hard to forget when you see yourself 10+ years later still acting out because you have never forgiven. I think most of the titles will be song and/or album titles because I consider them the soundtrack for the stories. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Also, I need to atone for the things I have done. After that time in my life, I was never the same. I evolved into someone else. I'm not making excuses I'm just coming face to face with everything. I was never a "bad" person but I have done some "bad" shit. I made some bad choices and I hurt some good people. But understand this; when your world is governed by pain and you feel like the universe places hurt on your front door every chance she gets; 9 times outta 10 guess what you're going to put out? </i><br />
<br />
<i>If this is your first read, welcome, but I think you should go back and read parts 1-3.4 (April 2010) before reading this so you can understand it more clearly. Also, before you go on realize the dark cynicism is just who I am. If that's not you <b>>>insert Kanye shrug here<<</b></i><br />
<br />
After all that shit happened I ended up dropping out of college and going home. In retrospect, I realize I was running away from what I didn't know how to deal with. A trait I have yet to overcome. I still don't know how to not run. <br />
<br />
I didn't date anyone, I went through a depression, I got a job and I formed friendships. Just as I was starting to feel like I was getting better Frat boy decided to come to my parents house with his new girlfriend "cause he needed to see me" <br />
<br />
Are you fucking serious right now?<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I was not at home. I was at work, so he made his way there. Apparently for once fate was on my side, by the time he arrived I had already left from my shift so he missed me again and his girl had to get back to school which was a 3 hour drive so he couldn't double back.<br />
<br />
Somehow I know she probably got the shit kicked out of her when they got back to school. He wasn't good with taking "no" for an answer.<br />
<br />
Well at least it wasn't me. <br />
<br />
Did I mention that his girlfriend was white? I know that race shouldn't have mattered, but it did. I mean who goes to an HBCU and finds a white girl...seriously? And she was fat...da fuck? <br />
<br />
During this time, Frat boy still called me and I took most of his calls. He would spend the 1st hour of the call blaming me for everything and telling me no one was ever gonna love me, the 2nd hour asking me for relationship advice, and the 3rd hour flirting or professing his love for me. This was always the cycle. I can say this, he was consistent. In spite of everything, I still felt something for him. Fear, contempt, sympathy...something. After every call he had managed to make me feel like shit.<br />
<br />
I used to play "The One I Gave My Heart To" by Aaliyah & "Anytime" by Brian McKnight all the damn time, and I would cry myself to sleep. 300 miles away he was still controlling my life. Part of me felt like I deserved this for allowing my life to float so far down shit's creek.<br />
<br />
After not seeing him for a year, I decided I was going to go up there for homecoming. I had planned to kick it with my other friends with whom I was also in constant touch with. My goal was to not see him. Get in and get out...unscathed.Oh but there was scathing...<br />
<br />
Friday -- went off without a hitch. I was certain he was going to be with his frat. I avoided their plot and their party. But if you know anything about HBCU homecomings all the parties crack. So I went to another spot and had the time of my life. I got to see a lot of old friends an all around good night.<br />
<br />
Saturday --Now the tricky part was going to be the game. It was a daytime game and no matter how packed it got the possibility of me crossing his path or that of a mutual acquaintance was high. I had made it to the 3rd quarter and no sign of him. I was leaving the stadium when I ran into his LB...literally. I looked up so I could apologize and no words came out. He stared at me sideways I don't think he recognized me at first because of the changes (no more short blonde hair and no green contacts...don't judge me damn it lol) My hair was shoulder length and auburn. I looked good. (hey I did) He hesitated before he said anything. All he could manage was "do I know you?" I never replied I just hurried off with my friends and I as I looked back he was still staring at me all dumb founded.<br />
<br />
Side Note: While hanging out on the yard. I met this guy. We will call him GA. Remember him for future installments. <br />
<br />
After surviving the game I went out to dinner with my friends, bought lots of liquor and got ready to go out with my friends. We made sure to avoid his frat's party and go to a new spot that we heard was hot. After a few drinks in a crowded club I ran into my closest friend's little brother. (2 year age difference!) I remember him from when I used to go to their house on weekends before I dropped out of school. He was not so young anymore and he was in college. He always used to hit on me even when he was in high school. But now that he was technically an adult and cute as hell I could finally flirt back.<br />
<br />
We danced together all night and believe me I am no police officer. I left the club and headed to our hotel which was 30 minutes away. He called me and asked could he come over. I wanted to say no, but it had been 18 very long months and well his sister was loaning him her car so well...uh...I guess it was ok. No need to go into all of the details but well I understand how clouded the mind is when it's all backed up with...<br />
<br />
Sunday -- <strike>After 3 or 4</strike>...I mean by the next morning I was so over frat boy. Not because I was all newly infatuated because I wasn't, but because I was just over it. I was tired of playing his stupid games and blaming myself. I had too many other obstacles to deal with. The first being to get my ass back in school. If he wasn't worth being with he damn sure wasn't worth dropping out for. Fuck him!<br />
<br />
I drove back to campus dropped off little brother, and went to say goodbye to my friends. Just as I was walking out of her dorm and to my car who should be leaning up against it? Yes, and he looked as sadistic then as he did the last time. But this time I wasn't phased. I was a new person. I was going to walk right past him. Ask him to move. Get in my car and drive off. (Doesn't that sound so tv movie newly empowered?) Yet that's not exactly how it went.<br />
<br />
Here's how it really went.<br />
<br />
I saw him and froze; every muscle in my body tensed. When I finally was able to move, I was taking baby steps like we were playing "mother may I". I made 0 eye contact with him and by the time I reached my car all I could manage was, "hey" in a voice maybe 3 decibels below a whisper.<br />
<br />
"So you thought you could come here and not speak to me? You thought I wouldn't find out you were here?" he said snarkily<br />
Before I could even answer he continued, "You know the long hair is such a good look. You look good. So when are we going to spend our time?"<br />
"I have to get home. I have to go to work." I said trying to move closer to my car.<br />
"No you don't. I called your mom. You're off until Wednesday. You have time for me." he stated calmly<br />
"She got it all mixed up." I tried to lie.<br />
"Oh no, she gave me the number and I called to check the schedule for you. I'm sure you're off. And there's no way you're leaving here without spending some quality time with me. I told your mom you'd be back in the morning." he snatched my keys out of my hand "so let's go for a drive..." he finished.<br />
"You know what, I'm really not feeling this I want to go home. Besides don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked as I reached for my keys.<br />
"No, she graduated and we broke up. You know how I feel about long distance relationships." he stared at me.<br />
<br />
In that moment, I was so jealous of her. Envious of the fact that she had not only survived him, but was able to move on without the repercussions of him. She had come to college and gotten what she came for while I had just tucked tail and ran. (aye you can take a girl out of the country...)<br />
<br />
I quickly snapped out of it as he placed one hand on the roof of the car and put his forearm to my throat the position from afar would look like we were about to kiss. He pressed on my throat until I was gasping for air then he whispered. "I could crush your windpipe right here. Either you get in the car on your own or I'll put you in the car and you may or may not live to tell the tale."<br />
<br />
I walked around my car like an exiled child. Got in the passenger seat and stared out the window. I knew what was going to happen next and if you've been keeping up so do you.<br />
<br />
And I know I told you I was reborn before, but that person was killed too.<br />
<br />
If I were a cat I'd have been on my 3rd life and if you remember another of my previous statements...nothing good happens in 3s.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-14926902173007747992011-08-06T21:01:00.000-07:002011-08-06T22:25:57.581-07:00UntitledFeel for me what I feel for you.<br />
Reach for me in the middle of night no matter who else is lying there<br />
Look at her face but see mine<br />
Peek at the sun and see my smile<br />
Embrace the rain because it hides <br />
Your metaphoric missing me tears behind your eyes<br />
Force your fingers not to send that text because you want to remain stoic<br />
But succumb to your heart because your pride won't know it<br />
Realize that spending time with other chicks is a waste of time<br />
Accept that your your heart is already mine<br />
<br />
Say those words I've been waiting to hear<br />
Let nothing give you pause; not time, distance, or fear<br />
Trust that for me it's worth the leap<br />
Know that what we have will keep.<br />
Believe that what you've found in me is real<br />
And though others hate we know what we feel<br />
Wait for me because I'll come<br />
As soon as you declare that I am your One.<br />
Love is a choice and I want you to choose me<br />
For I've already chosen you...clearly<br />
You say you have trust issues and why don't I tell you how I feel<br />
If you'd take a minute I'm sure you'll realize I just didPrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-49058254050252296902011-05-02T22:41:00.000-07:002011-05-02T22:41:06.903-07:00He Doesn't See MeHe doesn't see me <br />
He's always looking past me<br />
Or over my head<br />
<br />
A polite thank you when I come to his aid<br />
A subtly sincere 'preciate you when I am there in his time of need<br />
Yet he never sees me<br />
<br />
No matter how bright my smile is when he walks into the room<br />
Or how my eyes twinkle when he speaks my name.<br />
He never sees me<br />
<br />
Even though my heartbeat is deafening when he touches me<br />
And my pulse races the Indy 500 at the mere mention of his name<br />
He never sees me<br />
<br />
He never notices when I change my hair<br />
Or wear that new dress I couldn't afford but bought to impress him<br />
He still doesn't see me<br />
<br />
When I send him a text just to say "hi"<br />
Or I listen intently to his woes<br />
I remain the invisible girl<br />
<br />
When I tell him I need him<br />
<br />
Or confess that I love him<br />
He conveniently looks the other way<br />
<br />
As significant as he is to me<br />
And as insignificant as I am to him<br />
It's no wonder he doesn't see me.<br />
<br />
If he saw me he'd know he's my air<br />
If he noticed he'd realize I'm always there<br />
If he took the time to see me he'd know no one else could love him better<br />
If he paid attention he'd realize I would have stood by him regardless of the weather<br />
<br />
I'm tired of waiting on you to see what you never will.<br />
I'm tired of wanting what I'll probably never have<br />
It's time for me to be what I was for you<br />
For someone who will see me<br />
Because I wanna be seenPrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-64507527087013145122010-12-23T14:42:00.000-08:002010-12-23T14:42:56.892-08:00Men & Women: The Unwritten (Until Now) Rules of Engagement : Titles<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">BA; BS; MBA; PhD; Mr.; Mrs. are all titles. Titles that we strive for in order to demand respect, get a better job, or get a higher pay grade. We pay great money to obtain these titles and take pride in making sure everyone around us acknowledges them, however when it comes to the title that connotes a relationship or commitment people run from it like the plague.</span></i><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This is the basis of my conversation with a group of friends of mine between the ages of 23-30. We were at a kick back and talking about relationships etcetera and when the idea of titles came up the men in the room were acting like we had cussed out their mama. It seemed the general consensus around the room was that if a man chooses to date a woman (and I use the term date in the rawest sense of the word) that should be enough. All of them felt as though labeling the young woman as their “girlfriend” only complicates things. Therefore, it serves no good purpose. “Why label a good thing?” one of the young men asked. They continued on to say that marriage is only a piece of paper so what is the point of that? The foundation of their beliefs rested on the idea of “it’s more important to do the job of a husband or boyfriend than to just have the title and behave oppositely.” <span> </span>They went on to say that should a woman ask a man for a relationship the possibility of him no longer showing interest in her is quite high. <span> </span>So, I asked myself “are titles really that important?” </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Now most of the women in the room seemed amazed at this revelation, but they should not have been because aren’t there more women nowadays choosing to be single or favoring long term relationships as opposed to marriage. Playing house but still checking single when they file their income taxes? But these ladies seemed to be getting an eye opening epiphany as they listened to the men in the room express their views. And each single woman in the room found themselves either resigning to be single forever or accepting the possibility of being someone’s long term “boo-thang.” But why do women accept inferior or nonexistent titles? Why do men feel so comfortable treating the women in their lives in a manner they would not want their mother or sister to be treated? </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While I sat back and listened to the men and women go back and forth on this topic I found myself perplexed and honestly somewhat amused. Listening to this debate made me feel old or old fashioned I guess, because all I kept thinking about is my grandfather saying, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” At the time, that made little sense to me, but as I have grown up I understand it more fully. It just seems to me that people (both men and women) either want the end result without the work that goes before it or they do not want to do work at all but in both cases this makes them lazy. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not having a title means being able to do whatever you want; whenever you want without repercussions or guilt. If a person doesn’t want a title he/she has the option to jump on the next new or “better” thing should it appear. And if it doesn’t old faithful will still be around. It’s a win-win. Or so it may seem. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Titles come with expectations and many people today are not willing to live up to those expectations. Simply put people are becoming lazier and more selfish. Let us be honest people don’t want titles because they don’t want to have to live up to anything. They want to be able to satiate all of their carnal desires. Basically keeping their options open at all times. Never committing to anyone in the hope that when/if the next best thing comes along they are available to explore that option as well. And not marrying because it is believed to be just a piece of paper is another cop out. When you forego that “piece of paper” you forego such things as benefits in life or death, unified family, joint assets (as recognized by the law), to name a few. But in essence anytime you/they want to walk away you can and with no repercussions. Easy breezy</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Marriage is a standard and standards are a lost ethic in today’s society. My grandfather also used to say you must stand for something or you will fall for anything. And no one wants to stand so is it safe to say we’re watching people fall like dominoes. Walking away from a marriage constitutes thought and serious consideration. And in many cases stepping out on a marriage has other financial and long lasting consequences. People want the fun, but not the potential consequences. People want the party, but not the partnership. </span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We will sign our names on shady loans, but not a promissory commitment to love and grow with someone. And there’s nothing wrong with growing apart, breaking up, or divorce. It’s not ideal but it would understandable. At least you made an effort to be an active participant in a relationship; unfortunately it did not work out. All in all titles are not villains they constitute the willingness of a person(s) to put in the work required to build something. Why is this too much to ask?</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-57006383240864650732010-12-08T12:31:00.001-08:002010-12-08T14:49:16.248-08:00Black Girl Lost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i><u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Black Girl Lost</span></u></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I am a woman of the night</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not the street walking kind but another type</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A black girl lost of sorts</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not a bad girl by definition but by force</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Or choice</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The tough exterior you see is just a shell</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But what lies beneath tells the true tale.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Born in this skin with the caramel red tint</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Many fooled themselves thinking I was born privileged</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The things I had weren’t always what they seemed</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because a lot of my clothes were hand-me-down jeans</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But the trick was that I never realized we were poor</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Well actually low middle class who made less look like more</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But even the labels I was draped in didn’t truly hide</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The disastrous hurricane that was brewing inside.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My first was an adult and I was still a child</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So my first exposure to men and sex was at the hands of a pedophile</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All this before I even turned five.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">See if that doesn’t fuck with your mind.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And even though he wasn’t related biologically</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The damage would be evident indefinitely.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The person who was supposed to be guarding me with their life</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Lay right beside me pretending to be asleep as I cried</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And when I asked her why?</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">She answered, “Little girls must never tell lies.”</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The lengths a woman goes to keep a man</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But I had to forgive her cuz she was a great grand</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">On the bright side this is where I gave birth to my imagination</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Allowing myself to be lost in a world of my own creation</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The place where a kid could be a kid</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And no one knew the things I hid</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Still it became too much for one little girl to hold inside</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I was all alone & I wished I would die</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And yes that’s probably the first time I considered suicide</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But as the years would soon tell this wouldn’t be the last time</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because the scars would deepen and become harder to hide</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And the men in my life would cause me to commit emotional genocide.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Once the innocence is lost it’s gone forever</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Trying to get it back is a useless endeavor</span></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So, try as I might my sanity began ungluing</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Wish as I may there was no edit undo-ing</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pieces of my soul left every time</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pieces till this day I’m still trying to find</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">From henceforth my view of men has never been the same</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cause they think with their dicks and rarely their brains</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I expect them to hurt me, so like a snake I strike first</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I haven’t decided if that’s a gift or a curse</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I still sometimes cringe when I’m in the room with a man</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Uncomfortable and awkward like being 5 all over again.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My mind sees sex as a synonym for love</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A record I have yet to expunge </span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For years upon years I remained in reckless relationships</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because the pain felt normal and of functional I am clueless</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I barely loved the one who truly loved me</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I fell hard for the one who loved she, she, & she</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve yearned for the one whose hands congregated around my neck</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve cried over the one who made me feel no bigger than a speck</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Always finding the time to love someone else</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But never smart enough to realize I need to save some of that love for myself</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Said yes when I should have said no</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Thinking it would make this broken vessel a whole</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hurt some because I believed that eventually</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They’d go out of their way to inflict pain on me</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And as I’ve searched for the love of a man</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve totally lost touch with who I am</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I once dreamed of the husband, house, kids, and the fence</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All in that order but my realization was this</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Life is fucked up and definitely not fair</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And damn right my life ain’t been no crystal stair</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My view of relationships is warped</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I govern only secondarily with my heart</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Monogamy</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Temporarily</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Trusting…unlikely</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Concerned…slightly</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Jealous…rarely</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Doing me…apparently</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I feel like I’m a curse to men</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because I seem to always hurt them</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not just because I expect their pain</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But because I do things without thinking</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And even though I regret the acts</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s usually too late to take them back.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My grandmother always told me I’m innately a good girl</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But I would never be right until I found my true place in the world.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For now, I’m a walking disaster unintentionally</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But in the words of my granddad “charge it to my head not my heart and me.”</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I think it’s because in order to give love you must first love yourself</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A craft I haven’t actually mastered yet.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They say the origin is because my father’s name I never did know</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And that obviously, I’d have daddy issues right from go</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But I will not sit and pretend as if it was all bad</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My grandfather, uncles, and step dad </span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">More than made up for what I never had</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Still in the back of my mind the question lurked</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Why didn’t my father love me, and that shit hurts.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Now my son finds himself in a similar situation</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Realizing you’re unloved is a hell of a revelation</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t shield him from the pain that is to follow</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Rejection is a hard ass pill to swallow.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Funny how my life mirrors his</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Both of us being emotionally fucked up as kids</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I haven’t always been the momma I should be</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And I blame no one else but me.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ashamed of the person I’ve become</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Can’t even look into the eyes of my own son.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s funny how people are quick to judge me</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">See what they want to see</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Don’t know me</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Have no idea what it’s like to be she.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Tainted by elements out of my control</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But act like they’d know what to do if they had my role</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Have you ever come home to no food in your house?</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And have four eyes looking at you and you have nothing to put in their mouth</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Watching them suffer when you’re doing your best</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So if the opportunity for them to have better came wouldn’t you say yes?</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But you think it’s because I don’t want the responsibility</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When in truth it’s because them I couldn’t clothe or feed</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So when you open your mouth to talk about me</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Make sure you know the whole story</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Before you is an excerpt from the pages of my life</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In this chapter much was written about strife</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Cuz I still visit the place of my imagination from time to time</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And deposit inside</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The shameful things I try to hide</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hopefully I’m not consumed by pain</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not drowned in the rain</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Lost in the flood never to be heard from again</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because I’m a woman of the night</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Not the street walking kind but another type</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Black girl lost wanting to do what’s right</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Trapped in the abyss of darkness desperately searching for the light.</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-23869624420727567962010-10-23T20:10:00.000-07:002010-10-23T22:58:39.238-07:00At the Movies 2: Concession Stand<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">My baby and I are on our regular movie date</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">As we’re choosing our seats I catch the eye of a honey named Kate</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She was this chick I had wanted since freshman year</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">So imagine my surprise seeing her here</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She gave me a smile that lit up the room</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I started to speak but I realized it was too soon</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My girl was up on me and she would have seen</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And that is drama unwanted if you know what I mean. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She was obviously feeling me ‘cause she winked her eye</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She got up and mouthed “follow me” as she walked by</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The way that her ass looked in those skinny jeans</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Would have made any man fall to his knees.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My girl let out a sigh which immediately got my attention</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My heart skipped a beat cause I thought she was listening</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">“What’s wrong?” I asked feigning concern</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">“Nothing baby” she replied but her head never turned</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My girl’s eyes on the main screen were fixed</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And to fight the temptation I could no longer resist</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I whispered “Baby, I’m hungry. I’ll bring you something to eat.”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She nodded and smiled and without missing a beat</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I made my way to the entry way cause I had someone to meet</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I nearly stumbled as I finally got to my feet.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Before I hit the corner Kate bumped into me</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our faces were so close I could hear her breathe </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She said, “I didn’t think you were coming as long as you made me wait”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I said, “I had to figure out a way to be temporarily excused from my date.”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She wasted no time as she took me by the hand</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Led me into a dark cinema and quickly unbuckled my pants</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Got on her knees and begin to ingest me slow</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">First sucking on the tip and then taking in much more</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My balls were not neglected as they made her mouth their home</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She even continued stroking my dick, so all my mind did was roam.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She sucked on my erection as if she were expecting a treat</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She even turned me down when I offered to eat</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Once she got me hard again; she had a second dose of my juices</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She had no idea of how long I had been waiting to do this.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then she slid her skinny’s down and straddled me in reverse</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She slid on the condom and started to bounce in one motion as if she’d rehearsed</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She threw her head back and started to moan which clearly turned me on</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I tickled her clit and kissed her neck which made her orgasm strong</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I had to put my hand on her mouth to mute her sweet sounds</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can’t say for sure but I swear this one couple whispered “could ya’ll keep it down”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">That was a tall order considering I was hard with no cumming in sight</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">As much as she has sucked and sucked I was in a position to fuck her right</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She turned around and straddled me and began to ride me crazy</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She mumbled out a couple of words but all I could make out was “baby”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She came at least 4 more times </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And that filled me with pride</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And even though I was nowhere near cumming I had to stop this ride</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">My girl was prolly worried sick and this smell I couldn’t hide.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I pretended to cum and she slid off and pull her pants back on</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Before I could ask her for her number my escapade was already gone.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I went to concession grabbed some food</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And prepared a lame excuse.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just when I leaned in to apologize for being away so long</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She looked at me, kissed my lips, & said “I barely noticed you were gone.”</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-71955659169735423052010-10-16T23:16:00.000-07:002010-10-16T23:16:21.743-07:00You<div style="text-align: center;"><em>And every time I feel like I’ve gotten over you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Dream I do </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Every night about you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Don’t know what it is about you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>It has to be that thing you…do</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>That makes me only want to be with you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Write verse after verse about you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>To wake up next to you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>To go to sleep being held by you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>To make love to you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Change my last name for you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Have babies that look just like you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Even name one after you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Build a life with you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Be a perfect wife for you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Grow old with you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Share a lifetime of love with you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Tell our grandchildren about you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>But until you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Realize how much you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Make me want you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Borderline need you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I don’t want to live without you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>So until I have you</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Guess I’ll have to dream you.</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
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</em></div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-32579867225308703672010-10-16T23:10:00.002-07:002010-10-24T18:48:46.695-07:00Tainted<div style="text-align: center;"><em>My view of love has been tainted over years</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Now it goes on the list as one of my biggest fears</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>As I have grown I have found love to be an illusion</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Definition attempts only lead to confusion</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Some say love hurts; while others claim the opposite</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>For me the ups and downs are too much to deal with</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>So I distance myself from love and lovers alike</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Settling for lustful actions to fulfill my lonely nights</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>The love fantasy is not my preference</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I honestly believe it was created for reference</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I have watched as people embarked upon forever</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Ending up with nothing and never</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Again and again falling and failing</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Sitting on their couches crying and wailing</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>As love has disappointed them time and time again</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Highest high in the beginning lowest low in the end</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I have had my run in with love absolutely and without a doubt</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>It jabbed me in the gut, dotted my eye, and punched me in the mouth</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Literally and metaphorically so I have learned a life lesson</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Love may or may not be a blessing</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Love for family could be a gift</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>But the love between lovers well that seems like a bottomless pit</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Protecting my heart from the pain</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Sheltering my love from the rain</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Keeping it all for myself</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Cause to do bad I need no one’s help</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Never again do I plan to let another man abuse me</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Spit on my dreams, and/or bring me misery</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Down that road I have been</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Down that road so have my friends</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>I am not just targeting men</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>For some the culprits can include women</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>If my words are discouraging and you don’t agree</em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><em>Disregard what I say but, I’m just expressing me.</em></div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-61690369475578420802010-10-16T00:24:00.000-07:002010-10-16T00:24:14.843-07:00Timeless Journal: A StoryDolls & G.I. Joes<br />
Homecomings & Proms<br />
Graduation & College<br />
<br />
Babies & Marriage<br />
Distance & Time<br />
Reunions & Regrets <br />
<br />
If I wrote my own version of “Love and Basketball” it would be devoid of basketball, but all of the other elements would be present in various ways. Of course there has to be a few more twists and turns, but I need you in the right mind frame as I tell my story.<br />
<br />
<b>Dolls & G.I. Joes</b><br />
He and I grew up together for all intents and purposes. My aunt married his uncle and being approximately 1 year apart, we were somewhat thrust upon each other. Being the oldest in our respective families we were each other’s play mates by default. His family lived approximately an hour away from mine, so we didn’t go to school together. But every family holiday and random gatherings we would get to hang out. <br />
<br />
The opposite sex thing never phased me, because in my eyes he was someone new and different to talk to. We talked about everything and it got to a point where I thought of him as “family” or a “cousin” of sorts. We were pretty close I would say. I would be disappointed when they, well he, didn’t come on certain occasions, but it’s ok to miss your “cousin” right? <br />
<br />
I want to say I was about 11 when things became complicated. I was going through puberty so I was all kinds of awkward. This was about the time I became extremely shy and introverted. I never thought I was as pretty as all the other girls in my class. But more importantly, I was noticing boys in a major way. I never managed the courage to talk to them, but that didn’t keep me from looking and liking. <br />
<br />
I believe it was Good Friday, because that’s when everyone would come over. We have a really big get together. Crawfish boil, fish fry, etouffee, desserts…more food than the eye can see. All of our family near or far immediate & extended showed up. Honestly, I wasn’t sure of who was all coming all I was looking forward to was the food. I was in my room playing some game or other when there was a knock on my non-existent door. (Long story) I looked up and there he stood. I believe my heart stopped. Remember I told you I was now noticing boys. I felt like my puberty senses were on high alert. I just stared. <br />
<br />
It’s not like this is the first time we’d been alone together. In fact, we were alone quite often. Like I said he was “family” but this time was different. I was immediately hot, not sexual but pure embarrassment and discomfort. I’m sure I turned a different shade of red. I couldn’t understand what was happening, but nonetheless it was happening. <br />
<br />
I could not look him in the eyes. I stared at my feet as if they were a work of art. I started touching my hair, fixing my clothes, and my voice was barely above a whisper. I felt awkward and I didn’t know how to act. Comfort came in the form of my cousin Chass. She and I were extremely close so she was always around. Funny thing is she had the hugest crush on him. She wanted me to hook them up. So when she walked in she gave me “that” look. <br />
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Chass is a very pretty girl, she was never shy or awkward around people. However, she was still a teenage girl, so the direct approach with boys was still out of the question. Somewhere in conversation we decided to go outside and I just followed behind still studying my shoes. I don’t know what all we did throughout that day but here’s what I do remember. Chass reminded over lunch that I was supposed to hook her up. I was not looking forward to it, but she would have done it for me hands down so there was no backing out. I couldn’t have him, so she may as well. (Wait, that thought was inappropriate, right?) <br />
<br />
The specifics of that afternoon escape me, probably because I was avoiding him and had said less than a sentence to him the entire day. After some more prodding by Chass I got him alone outside on the side of my grandmother’s house and while I was mustering up the courage to speak he kissed me. I wasn’t sure about what all had happened all I know is he was my very first kiss, but I would never be able to tell a soul. And to this day I never have. <br />
<br />
<b>Homecomings & Proms</b><br />
Let’s fast forward to high school. We would still see each other on holidays and random visits. Sometimes he would spend the night. He was and remained the only boy ever allowed in my room or who could spend the night whenever he wanted to. We would go hang out when he came to my town or vice versa when I was in his. Once it was clearly explained to me that we weren’t technically related I was able to feel less guilty about my feelings. <br />
<br />
But I was young, he was young and puberty causes so many emotions and changes I didn’t trust anything I felt. But there was no denying that I felt something. It was my secret. It’s fair to say we experimented with sex…somewhat. We never quite went all the way for the most part and for that reason alone I won’t say he was my first. But in retrospect, he was. <br />
<br />
During my junior year, for no particular reason, he came to visit me. He drove down with his cousin, whose name escapes me, and the four of us went out. I think we went to the lake to hang out, but wherever we were he and I sat around and talked for hours. Chass and his cousin were off doing their own thing. In all the years we had been friends what I had felt that first day had grown and not because of the firsts but because he was special or at least that’s what I wrote in my diary. <br />
<br />
That night when we came home my grandmother asked him if he wanted to stay the night, but he had an early work day so he left. <br />
<br />
Not 5 minutes after he had gone my grandmother told me. “That boy loves you.” I laughed. She said, “Listen to me that boy loves you but ya’ll are too young and live too far to give it an opportunity. When you’re both older that will be your husband. When that day comes just remember who told you and it’s important that you always remain friends even when your last name changes.” I laughed it off, but she looked at me and said “trust me girl.” <br />
<br />
I never told her that I loved him and hoped she was right, but looking back on it I’m positive she already knew. I wore my heart on my sleeve around him, not because I wanted to, but because it jumped out of my chest every time he came around. I never found the voice to ever tell him that. I had a diary that was just about him, no one ever read it, no one even knew about it. It was the only one I was completely honest in and it’s the only reference to what I felt for him. <br />
<br />
<b>Graduation & College</b><br />
Funny how the universe can bring two people together and in the same motion pull them apart. It was no secret that we both dated and did our thing. Hell we were young what else were we supposed to be doing? He graduated a year before me and went off to college and then came back home to work. I graduated a year later, wound up pregnant and moved to the Bay. After toiling with all that happened in that relationship many, many, many other things. <br />
<br />
Our paths crossed again. <br />
<br />
At this point, I was living in his hometown working at a hospital. I was on hiatus from school and I ran into him at a bank. We chatted briefly, but we were both on our way to work so it was of no consequence. <br />
How do I remember this stuff? Remember that diary I spoke of? I was still writing in it faithfully. In fact, he was the first person I thought of when I got pregnant, because I felt so guilty. And years later he was the first person I thought of when I moved to his city. I would write him occasionally because for me, he was the only person I had ever trusted unequivocally. These letters I never sent went everywhere I went. They told the truth of how I felt, my reasons for doing many of the stupid things I did. My truth sat on those pages and it was somewhat therapeutic.<br />
<br />
Millions of times I had entertained the idea of being with him, but the idea of losing the friendship always forced me to keep my distance. Besides we didn’t talk much anymore, we were pseudo grownups trying to make our way in this world. Yet, every time I tried to close that chapter in my life, my grandmother would find some way to mention him or her “belief.” Even though I always blew her off, the mental cycle would start all over again. Did I mention that she compared every guy I dated to him? She even tried to convince me to take him to my senior prom when I told my then boyfriend that I refused to go with him. <br />
<br />
<b>Babies & Marriage</b><br />
I remember getting a call from my mom telling me they were coming in town for the weekend. My place was big enough, but I fully appreciated my privacy. She went on to tell me they were coming for the wedding and if I was going. Imagine my surprise when she told me to whose wedding she was going. I fell completely silent and while she went on and on I cannot tell you what she said. I wasn’t angry, I was hurt. I realized that the window opportunity that I never thought would close was slamming in my face. <br />
<br />
I cried. <br />
<br />
Immaculate timing it would seem because my grandmother called me. She only asked me about this and that, but I knew she was trying to see how I was. I appreciated the concern without the questions. She never mentioned the nuptials and I am grateful, because I don’t know if these secrets would still have remained mine alone otherwise. After talking to her, I felt better and I knew I was going to be alright. I grabbed my diary from its secret hiding place and I wrote what would be my 2nd to last entry. <br />
<br />
It began slightly sketchy and incoherent, but 5 or 6 hours later it was the most honest piece of work I have ever written. I put every emotion I ever had or currently had in regards to him on those pages. I cannot recall everything, but the last few lines are as clear as if they were sitting right in front of me. It said:<br />
<br />
<i><b>To lay all of this on you hours before your wedding would be absurd, and I have too much respect and adoration for you to ever do that. But I hope that you have found all of the happiness you so deserve. I know that if you chose her she must be special. One day I hope to know what it’s like to find that special someone and not want to be without them, but something tells me that window has already closed. She is the luckiest woman on earth and I will always envy her. If I had it all to do over again, I would have done it differently.<br />
</b><br />
</i>I closed the journal and fell asleep. My folks showed up so early Saturday morning it should have been a sin. I had no intentions of attending so I sat around watching them get ready when my mom said “get your slow ass up and get dressed.” I said, “I’m not going, because I don’t have anything to wear.” She said, “How can you not be there on the most important day of your friend’s life?” I opened my mouth to argue, but my grandmother intervened and said, “Go get dressed.” I was not going to argue with her, so I went. I tried my hardest to get left, but to no avail.<br />
<br />
I felt like a hooker in church in her work clothes. I wore my discomfort on the inside. Outwardly, I smiled, laughed, and socialized; all the while my insides felt as if it housed a small village of butterflies. My journal was in my purse, but it was only there for moral support. I dare not take it out. What if someone sitting near me caught a glimpse of its content? I clutched my purse as if it contained my life savings and emotionally it did. <br />
<br />
As he stood alone at the altar, I closed my eyes and for one fleeting moment I imagined he was waiting for me. The music began and I realized my dream was someone else’s reality, and it was even harder to accept in person than it was on the phone. As the vows were exchanged I could no longer fight back the tears. But at least the timing was appropriate. When it came time for the kiss, I pretended to have lost something and began to rifle through my bag. I may have held it together this long, but I was no fool. There was only so much I could bear. Seeing them at the reception, I became that 11 year old girl again, never made eye contact, beet red, and uncomfortable. <br />
<br />
Throughout all of the relationships, break-ups, broken hearts, and tears I thought would never end this hurt the most. As soon as the opportunity presented itself I left. <br />
<br />
As soon as I got home, I pulled out my journal. I read every page, even the loose paper inserts. That’s when I wrote my very last entry:<br />
Saw it with my own eyes; he has a wife and daughter. So it is done. Every story does not have a fairy tale ending, but all stories end. Our story ends here.<br />
<br />
That was the last time I ever saw him.<br />
<br />
<b>Distance & Time </b><br />
<br />
Ten years later…<br />
<br />
The same Universe that had pulled our lives in opposite directions spun around one more time. While updating my facebook page guess whose name popped up in my “friend suggestion” section. Without thinking I sent a friend request. I did not expect him to accept it let alone reply, but he did both.<br />
<br />
<b>Reunions & Regret</b><br />
In talking to him, we found that our lives did indeed go in different directions. I went to college and he ended up going to the military. We had even landed in different time zones. When I asked him how he was he told me that all was well and he hadn’t been home in years. I was in a similar way, but had finally broken down and went to visit. What I could not bring myself to ask was about his wife. <br />
<br />
I have learned not to ask questions if you are not prepared for the answers. That’s when I realized how not over it I was. We continued talking about our current careers and future goals. <br />
<br />
I was doing a good job of being generic, when he hit me with a low blow. “I still consider you the one that got away.” While I dismissed it in conversation, my mind refuses to let it go. How could the person I had loved since I was 11 say I got away from him when he was the one who had gotten married? Did he not know that all he had to do was say the word back then and I would have dropped everyone for him? Maybe he didn’t, because I never told a soul.<br />
<br />
After we concluded our conversation I sat back and reflected. I realized I still carry regret. I still wonder “what if”. I don’t know if it’s because I’m such a precocious person or because I never got the chance to say all the things I have always wanted to. <br />
<br />
It’s funny now as I reflect on it; there were so many missed opportunities. So many periods where there should have been commas or semi colons and words that were never spoken. I am not delusional in thinking that things would be different now if at least one of those opportunities were seized, but maybe it would have saved me 15+ years of wondering “what if or maybe?”All the things I have experienced both good and bad have made me who I am today, and while I can say I am grateful; I still wonder if I would be better if I had made other choices. For example, if I had said “yes” here and “no” there or if I had asked at least once “what about us?” I have many regrets, but that would be my greatest to date. <br />
<br />
I honestly do not believe in true absolute limitless love. Everything that has a beginning has an end and what has an entrance has an exit, it’s a matter of choosing to remain or continue. However, I have never gotten over my feelings they were only buried deep down in my soul’s journal. My question is now that the journal has been unlocked and re-opened do I turn the page or burn the book?PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-8608559613958367162010-09-05T17:03:00.000-07:002010-09-05T17:11:51.979-07:00When<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1X_LB-toWlWtcBCTBb199Bz0IOdhp9guYpSaS3UvWd5ZOamz3EuV4cF2ocmdIKM-NHi_oUXM6CZNPiNS5P-xEwCJjXJ0iGzeVg5-xr9mY5hwr-VU0wLEZqOsDFtZFRg3Ej6f2L_So1k/s1600/blackloveart2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 349px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1X_LB-toWlWtcBCTBb199Bz0IOdhp9guYpSaS3UvWd5ZOamz3EuV4cF2ocmdIKM-NHi_oUXM6CZNPiNS5P-xEwCJjXJ0iGzeVg5-xr9mY5hwr-VU0wLEZqOsDFtZFRg3Ej6f2L_So1k/s400/blackloveart2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513586230637401202" /></a><br /><br />When your first thought in the morning, and your last thought at night is them<br />You might be…<br />When you close your eyes and the first face you see is theirs<br />You might be…<br />When their name pops up in your inbox or caller ID and you smile<br />You might be…<br />When you can’t help but blush when their name passes your lips<br />You might be…<br />When a single conversation with them has the power to soothe you<br />You might be…<br />When the anticipation of being in their presence gives you butterflies<br />You might be…<br /><br />When you find yourself concerned with their well-being<br />You could be…<br />When you make future plans and include them in it<br />You could be…<br />When you refer to them with a certain uncertainty<br />You could be…<br />When you miss them all the time and so much it hurts<br />You could be…<br />When you call them up just to hear their voice<br />You could be…<br /><br />When you’re starting to become in tune with their mood & emotions<br />It’s almost certain…<br />When their pain is your pain & their joy is your joy<br />It’s almost certain…<br /><br />When you aspire to help them become better<br />It’s almost certain…<br />When you have your first argument and you’re hurt more because you hurt them<br />It’s almost certain…<br /><br />When you can’t imagine your life without them<br />Check your pulse…<br />When your happiness is intertwined with theirs<br />Check your pulse…<br />When you realize they make you better<br />Check your pulse…<br />When you know the color of their eyes & the changes it makes as the sun reflects on them<br />Check your pulse…<br /><br />When you can love them past their pain<br />Call a doctor…<br />When your will surrenders to theirs<br />Call a doctor…<br />When their needs rank equally with yours<br />Call a doctor…<br />When you’re willing to sacrifice loving them so they can be happy<br />Call a doctor…<br /><br />When all the symptoms are present the prognosis is clear<br />You’re in love<br />And there’s no going back.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-6442796352211041472010-07-27T11:47:00.000-07:002010-07-27T13:17:26.091-07:00Her Metaphors...SaltHave you ever had a cut and out of sheer curiosity; or sheer stupidity you decided to sprinkle a little salt on it? Well, being the precocious child I was. I did. I had heard my grandparents mention "pouring salt on open wounds". At that time I was unable to grasp the context in which they were using it so I thought I was gonna heal myself by pouring a packet of salt on an freshly opened cut I had received from falling on shards of broken glass. <br /><br />BIG MISTAKE!!! <br /><br />I had to be 13 at least. Trying to prove how "smart" I was. I poured packets of salt onto a saucer and firmly placed my hand where the gash was onto the seemingly harmless pile of salt. I figured it was probably gonna sting, I mean all meds do; but nothing and I mean nothing could have prepared me for the pain I felt. I started running around screaming and yelling. I was holding my hand out crying, no one was able to make sense of what I was saying or what had happened. <br /><br />But I swear my grandma was omnicient, because by the time I made it to where she was, she immediately looked down at my hand. Ran me all the way to the bathroom and begin to rinse my hand off. The cool water didn't help at first but eventually it began to soothe the pain some. Blood kept gushing out (I'm a free bleeder). And it hurt, but a whole lot less. <br /><br />Once she had brought me down from hysterical to those low sobs she said, "Chile now what possessed you to put salt on an open wound?" I said, "well I was trying to heal it so you didn't have to take me to the doctor, cuz I don't like needles." I dropped my head and she paused for a second. Looking for the right words I assume, and said "Bel fam (pretty girl in creole), salt is a preserver not a healer. If you put salt on an open wound that means you want to keep the wound open. When I was a little girl we used to wrap meat in salt so it wouldn't spoil." <br /><br />"But mommie, I heard you say put salt on an open wound." She laughed, "That's what you get for being in grown folks business. What I said was put salt on an open wound if you want to and you will never get better." <br /><br />I turned red. <br /><br />She began to bandage my cuts quietly. Then all of sudden she started to talk again. "oiseaux petit rouge (little red bird in creole), in life you must always remember never throw people's wrong doings in their face especially if they are trying to do or be better. Especially if you want to see them better. If you keep reminding a former thief about how much he has stolen from you, you may kill his growth. He feels no need to change because he knows you will never treat him or see him differently. While you may remember it, you should scarcely, if ever bring it up. What's the point in changing if it is never recognized? If you have someone in your life who seizes every opportunity to remind you of the old you then you need to cut them loose."<br /><br />The funny thing is, all these years later I still remember that conversation. And over the course of my life, I've made a concious effort to always be mindful of what she told me. That's why I am so non judgmental of people and circumstances. I rarely, if ever, throw things in people's faces, because that's just not who I am. I believe there is good in all people and I look for it. I know I've done a lot of wrongs but everyday I try to be better. I can't lie it's hard especially when your past is constantly looming over you, but harder still when someone is launching your past in your face every other chance they get. <br /><br />While I lean more towards forgive and forget not everyone feels the same, and that is alright too. What I can tell you with absolute certainity is every time you keep telling your man/woman about who they used to be (when they are trying) don't be surprised if the old them resurfaces leading to the death of your relationship. Salt in an open wound hurts like hell and it will never heal; the same applies to your relationships romantic and otherwise. <br /><br />In actuality, how far removed are you from the "old" you?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">*Salt does not heal wounds, it preserves them. So if you're constantly pouring salt into open wounds they will never heal. They will only worsen until death occurs.*<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6TrB4U8kJfq1p9Fu3cZoZPNSjeQXkQOuuL-C5ay2N5sSLdYXHF0BR5GvzE2PK7I4f7JFfrbyqMbGDGLXBzvt1kJTK77S9qlromgwX5nx40NBf-QP5amctFRnwIF1BTLgn6KEYmm19ug/s1600/salt.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 341px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6TrB4U8kJfq1p9Fu3cZoZPNSjeQXkQOuuL-C5ay2N5sSLdYXHF0BR5GvzE2PK7I4f7JFfrbyqMbGDGLXBzvt1kJTK77S9qlromgwX5nx40NBf-QP5amctFRnwIF1BTLgn6KEYmm19ug/s400/salt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498682465453958242" /></a>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-5314830113878225312010-07-20T13:49:00.000-07:002010-07-20T19:54:32.539-07:00Best FriendI grab the phone, checking my text messages<br />It’s you asking me about today’s stressful events<br />Telling me everything will work out for me<br />And even if it doesn’t right here is where you’ll be<br />I’ve called you crying and you verbally dry my tears<br />From 3000 miles away you manage to alleviate my fears<br /><br />But I know nothing can come of this<br />You’re my best friend…I know what it is<br /><br />Still every time my phone rings I subconsciously pray it’s you<br />Can’t lie, consciously I hope the same thing too<br />But you’re my friend and those are hard to find <br />Maybe us having slept together is why I’ve blurred the lines<br />Doesn’t matter now, what’s done is done right?<br />Guess that’s why my dreams defer to you every night.<br /><br />I take sleeping pills to mask my dreams <br />But I awake restless, so in you I find rest it seems.<br /><br />Fell in love with your flaws<br />So when you start trippin I never get pissed off<br />See you as perfect, knowing that you’re not<br />Every time I look at you temporarily my heart…stops.<br />Gotta catch my breath<br />But for a glimpse I’d risk death<br /><br />Checking those feeling because you’re my best friend<br />I look in the mirror and tell myself to never feel this way again.<br /><br />When you need something it’s on me you call<br />In my role as best friend, I hold you up every time you fall<br />Constantly, checking myself cause I’ve never fallen for a friend<br />Never ever have I felt this for anyone else, but then again you’re not them<br />Support your every decision even when I don’t agree<br />No matter where you look, you’ll find none better than me.<br /><br />Why can’t you see in me, what I see in you?<br />Probably cause we’re best friends and that’s not what best friends do.<br /><br />Even with the distance between us I know I’ve made you a better man<br />But that’s equally returned you’ve made me a better woman.<br />No matter what you say to me you always make my day bright<br />Whether you’re telling me I’m wrong or if I’m absolutely right.<br />You never sugar coat shit you tell me just how it is<br />But you always check your tone in regards to my feelings<br /><br />When things go bad you’re the first one I want to call<br />When things go well, you’re the one I want to tell all<br />In order to shake this, I have to put some distance between us<br />Not in miles, but in mind so with myself this I discuss.<br />No communication with you makes all my days sour<br />I find myself checking my phone every hour on the hour<br /><br />Days go by, maybe 2 or 3<br />I don’t say a word, but you hit up me<br />Seeing your name brings everything back<br />The color to my skin and the smile my face has lacked<br /><br />Guilt encompasses me for needing you the way I do<br />For me, need is the equivalent of me being in love with you<br />Don’t understand why my feelings for my best friend are so strong<br />I’m in uncharted waters, yet this doesn’t feel wrong.<br /><br />“Keep the friendship; lose the love” I keep telling myself<br />Yet no matter how much I plead, my heart wants no one else.<br />So one night drunken tongue speaks a sober mind and I confess<br />Only to find a mere reply of questions which revealed so much less<br />Immediately regret rushes over me like a cool breeze<br />But it’s too late to retract these things<br />Tears run down my face <br />Like a NASCAR race<br /><br />Now I’ve lost my best friend because things will never be the same<br />I cringe at the mere mention of your name<br />Not out of disgust, but because of the loss<br />Wish I’d never let my heart take on the role as boss<br />I’d still have him even if it was just as a friend<br />Now, I’m stuck alone with just my thoughts who long for only him<br /><br />No one will ever be able to take his place<br />Or fill his space<br />I just hope I never find myself in this position again<br />In love with, missing, and having lost my best friend.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVJ_sFIRosyjIAK8jHTQMB2afrmB1r1QKOTF6_Ju7nl53oi4ory-CYDn-Kw9uWQcLyDg50xS2rwbBf_J24a2Sb6nsL0SrCJPxZrTYDjof35T9zVY5EqyyN-aZip6BIksIhn8W3ksSDg8/s1600/my_solitude2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVJ_sFIRosyjIAK8jHTQMB2afrmB1r1QKOTF6_Ju7nl53oi4ory-CYDn-Kw9uWQcLyDg50xS2rwbBf_J24a2Sb6nsL0SrCJPxZrTYDjof35T9zVY5EqyyN-aZip6BIksIhn8W3ksSDg8/s400/my_solitude2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496095575880421442" /></a>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-76412471732023969682010-07-13T14:52:00.000-07:002010-07-13T14:53:23.254-07:00The Difference A Day MakesYesterday I smiled when I heard your name<br />Today I cried<br />Yesterday I was infatuated with your game<br />Today I am hurt<br />Yesterday I saw so much potential in you<br />Today I see nothing<br />Yesterday there was nothing for you I wouldn't do<br />Today I am paralyzed<br />Yesterday I thought about you all day<br />Today I can't think<br />Yesterday I just wanted you around my way<br />Today I want you gone<br />Yesterday I couldn't wait for today so you could be my tomorrow<br />Today I'm wallowing in pity and drowning in sorrow.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-53897114659210024092010-07-13T11:17:00.000-07:002010-07-13T14:51:56.365-07:00You & IYou and I<br />I needed you; you weren't there<br />I reached for you; all I felt was air<br />I called your name til I nearly choked<br />I kept calling yet no one spoke<br /><br />You say you didn't know; I should've made it clear<br />You say your hand was outstretched but maybe not so near<br />You say you didn't hear me; so I should have yelled <br />You say that had you heard me you would not have failed<br /><br />I say, baby why didn't you see the signs<br />You say, how can I expect you to read my mind<br />I say, but I let you in the way you asked me to<br />You say, but I thought that was something you weren't willing to do<br />I say, I wanted to try and show you who I really was<br />You say, I always knew you, and I loved you just because<br />I say, then why did you leave me when I was at my lowest low<br />You say, I had to give you space and sunlight so you could grow<br />I say, where does this leave us? Is there a you and me?<br />You say, baby if you follow I will definitely lead.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-34756479136049333592010-07-04T14:53:00.000-07:002010-07-04T15:43:34.683-07:00The Accident<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4QxSvNkBg7UK3zB7HXJdUkw2_kblXahefZVlEViE_bWkkwR-5INexPadigkxAZ6r86WIt4CvgWnIcPzrUaVIwFvem6PZV_FwcqmbUag3yuyCbAK0_5ug_-BOQhBhukn8qbo58Gn-8T8/s1600/bl11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi4QxSvNkBg7UK3zB7HXJdUkw2_kblXahefZVlEViE_bWkkwR-5INexPadigkxAZ6r86WIt4CvgWnIcPzrUaVIwFvem6PZV_FwcqmbUag3yuyCbAK0_5ug_-BOQhBhukn8qbo58Gn-8T8/s400/bl11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490185075056442450" /></a><br />She embarks upon every day the same as she did the one before<br />No life lives behind her eyes<br />Each breath is strained<br />She is on life support.<br /> <br />The doctor enters her room with the same prognosis<br />“She has normal brain activity, but her motor skills aren’t reacting to the messages sent by her brain.”<br />It is that statement alone that keeps them from pulling the plug.<br /> <br />Each day her family and friends come and whisper words of encouragement <br />Some cry, some confess, some just simply sit there.<br />The nurse assures them that she is aware of their presence<br />And at some point, when the time is right she will respond.<br /> <br />Today makes 1 year since the accident,<br />However, she didn’t fall into a coma until months later.<br />“Unforeseen repercussions, a rarity but any slight reminder of such a trauma could trigger this reaction.”<br /> <br />Prior to this, she had been showing signs of regression, <br />But she had suffered so many internal injuries her discomfort was to be expected.<br />No one could have predicted this though,<br />On New Year’s Eve, they came home to find her lying on the floor.<br />She had suffered heart failure stemming from a heart murmur,<br />Doctors believe the murmur was caused by the internal injuries sustained from the initial accident.<br />A condition the doctors had missed during their “thorough” testing.<br /> <br />She was rushed into surgery, <br />It was considered a success<br />She awoke, seemed cognitive, and responsive<br />A little over a month later, following her birthday<br />Her health took a turn for the worse again.<br />However, being the fighter she is; she waged a war on her condition.<br /> <br />But by April, the continuous hospital visits had obviously taken their toll.<br />Still she was determined not to let her physical pain determine the course of her life.<br />She began to go out and about, and live each day larger than the one before.<br />It’s like she knew she was on borrowed time.<br /> <br />She would often call me and we’d talk for hours<br />We’d laugh, cry, and she would pour out her heart and soul.<br />I could tell that she had not totally made peace with her situation<br />No matter how much she tried to convince me that she had.<br /> <br />I’d often notice her staring off into space<br />Lost in what seemed like a blissful memory<br />(Probably prior to the accident)<br />But by the time she reached the end of her flashback<br />She would be grief stricken<br />Either on the brink of tears, <br />Or betrayed by the lone tear that refused to be suppressed.<br /> <br />I hurt for her.<br />I could only imagine the daily struggle of trying to live a normal life,<br />When you know your circumstances are anything but.<br /> <br />I prayed for her.<br />Everyday, some nights, and a few times in between.<br />But even when I thought I saw an improvement in her condition<br />I would later catch a glimpse of her, <br />And realize it was only a matter of time.<br /><br />The end was drawing near.<br /><br /><br />It was late May when the call came.<br />Her heart had failed her…again.<br />And she was on life support.<br /> <br />I went to her bedside every day without fail.<br />I knew she felt my presence because talking to her felt like a conversation.<br />I’d say something and her response was understood, even though her lips never moved.<br />Sometimes I would spend the night <br />Other times just the day.<br /> <br />However, today more than ever I was drawn to her.<br />And sitting at her bedside, I realized I loved her.<br />I wanted to run out of the room to make sense of my feelings.<br />But I could not move<br />And it became clear.<br /><br />I am her<br />You are my accident<br />And love is my disease.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-25045666701542566872010-07-04T14:42:00.000-07:002010-07-04T14:53:03.168-07:00The Need Addiction<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJYZjoa1pPq0oSMMY5TiAI_qmliF4k2B5x_lDh1OZ_bWerVzF1lrF7m8lHWje5uYWZADUp3JympsO_f0yoJ0eRKMG4r8sdcqfoO7kJC4_xAFkhGfLaryHYnpD5-cUubVjQMqz9fYO0TFc/s1600/bl2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 345px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJYZjoa1pPq0oSMMY5TiAI_qmliF4k2B5x_lDh1OZ_bWerVzF1lrF7m8lHWje5uYWZADUp3JympsO_f0yoJ0eRKMG4r8sdcqfoO7kJC4_xAFkhGfLaryHYnpD5-cUubVjQMqz9fYO0TFc/s400/bl2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490171874109914530" /></a><br />Webster defines a need as: a condition requiring relief; anything that is necessary but lacking. He continues on to define an addiction as: being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something. (someone) In Roman times an “addiction” was a formal award by a magistrate of a thing or person to another person and their justification of slavery. At first glance the two may seem different, but if you look closely they are quite similar.<br /><br />See the connection? Not yet? That’s ok I’ll pull it together in a minute. And let’s add in the ancient Roman’s definition.(For good measure of course.)<br /><br />Needing someone makes them necessary; because we become abnormally dependent on them, in turn we are metaphorically awarded to that person as we cannot function without them.<br /><br />Pathetic existence huh? <br /><br />I’m not saying there is problem with needing help or needing advice. But I concur that the overall concept of need in turn causes problems or it least it can become one if not controlled. Moderation in all things is my motto, but what happens when moderation is not an option? What happens when you have allowed yourself to become dependent on someone so much you are no longer two but one? What if it happened without your carnal knowledge? Is this need addiction void when you become married? Is it a requirement of marriage?<br /><br />Battling need addiction is such a dilemma, because controlling one’s emotions is a chore in and of itself, especially when a large part of your well being has merged with someone else. And if you could “control” it; it wouldn’t be an addiction now would it? So does that mean going to “rehab” to purge oneself of the source? And while it can be done, is the withdrawal process worth it? Because aren’t we going to go right back and create another addiction and/or need and have to repeat the cycle? It’s like going to rehab for cocaine; getting clean, then going out and smoking crack. Trading one for another is a cycle. Can it be broken?<br /><br />In that case are we truly any different from any other addict who we tend to look down upon? Because if you think about it we go through very similar motions. <br /><br />Is needing someone more acceptable when it is consensual and mutual? But what happens if one person’s needs overwhelm the other? Or what happens if one becomes “needy”? Submitting oneself to our emotional needs weakens us. Or does it empower us because we can rightfully identify what/who we need? <br /><br />Personally, if ever I admit needing someone that’s a feat in itself. I may have just as well said “I l-l-love you”. (See how hard that is for me?) I mean, who wants to be an “addict”? Walking around tweaking and scratching; feening for the next hit. <br /><br />People fail you, so should we be willing to take the risk? Or should we lean primarily on our own devices and learn to need ourselves? Only allowing people in; in extreme circumstances? <br /><br />What say you?<br /><br />*Please enlighten me*PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-72700544465183516552010-04-20T16:11:00.000-07:002010-06-29T16:37:25.834-07:00The Plot Thickens 3.4Sitting in that hospital while the doctor rambled on and on was the easy part, because I wasn't listening. I was in full out panic mode. I cut him off mid rant to say, "so you're telling me I'm gonna have a baby any day now?" He looked at what had to be a face filled with fear and confusion and said "yeah any day now." <br /><br />I explained to him all the ways this was impossible and he explained to me all this ways this was not only possible but a reality.<br /><br />I also informed him, that I had obviously not told my parents or anyone and I would like to do that in my own way and in my own time. He nodded, but went on to tell me how he needed to run tests on me. While he did so, I contemplated my next move. In my mind, it started to make since why frat boy kept calling me fat, it's because I was pregnant. Speaking of which I have to not only tell him I'm pregnant, but that this is NOT his child. (Which in many ways was a relief, because I did not want my legacy to be the woman who gave birth to the spawn of Satan.) <br /><br />And the plot thickens...<br /><br />When the nurse began to draw my blood she could tell I was absolutely frantic and disheveled. And I know she was staring at the scars and bruises, because she said barely above a whisper, "there's always adoption. My friend owns an adoption agency." I turned to her and asked "really?" She and I talked for quite some time and she even gave me the number.<br /><br />The next day I called, made an appointment and instead of going to work I went there. The people were very friendly and it was black owned. They showed me profiles of interested families and even a family who would take a child with disabilities. (Which with my lifestyle and habits was sure to be an issue) I have to admit I was impressed. The mother gets $10000 to cover expenses endured during pregnancy. And since I obviously had none, this was a financial upturn. I had pretty much made up my mind, but I had one thing left to do and that was tell him.<br /><br />So, I went home and surprisingly he was there alone watching a movie. He greeted me when I came in which shocked the hell out of me. I stood about 3 feet away from him and I said "we need to talk." He said, "before you go on, your little stunt not only embarrassed me, but the bruhs too. But I get your point, I'll keep my escapades outside of the house." I got so angry I just balled my fists up and started breathing heavily. Between gritted teeth I said, "no that's not what I want to talk about." He stopped the movie, and walked right up on me until he had me backed into a corner. "Bitch you are not leaving me, you're mine." <br /><br />He wrapped his hand around my neck, and I realized I had a decision to make. I could let him choke me to death that way he would have to serve jail time or I could just tell him and see if he kills me in a new and exciting way. I've never been a fan of suffocation, so I opted to tell him. I said, "I'm pregnant!" He let go of me. <br /><br />I couldn't tell if he was angry or not, but I decided to go all in, "and it's not yours." I winced, because I knew he was gonna do something. But he never stopped pacing. I was shocked. I asked him if he heard me and he said "yes" very calmly. I started to walk to the room to get my things and surprisingly he didn't stop me. I packed up everything, and ran out of there. I felt so relieved. But when I made it to where my car was parked at he was leaning against my car. I was like "oh shit this is gonna go so horribly."<br /><br />I pretended he wasn't there and tried to unlock my car but he pushed me and somehow I was backed up against the car with him hovering over me. This is a conversation I will never forget.<br /><br />Him: How far along are you?<br />Me: 37 weeks<br />Him: So it's for Chi-Town?<br />Me: yes<br />Him: have you told anyone?<br />Me: No<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">A very scary smile crept over his face</span><br /><br />Him: Since you insist on embarrassing me you're going to make this right.<br />Me: How is this about you?<br />Him: Don't test me bitch. See, I love you, but I'm going to need something more to validate what you did the other night. I'm going to tell everyone you were pregnant and scared to tell me because you didn't want to ruin my career. And you're going to say as a side effect this baby is premature so in fact it is mine. You're going to name him after me and we're going to be a family.<br />Me: Are you fucking crazy? I'm out of here.<br />Him: You're not going anywhere but back upstairs. You can go willingly or I can assist you.<br /><br />I walked up the stairs dazed. I could understand or believe what had just happened. How in the hell did I end up in this situation. Pregnant again and with this nigga? I've always been a good person, but I'm living in HELL. <br /><br />He didn't let me out of his sight the rest of the night. I didn't sleep. I spent the entire night trying to process everything, but to no avail. I got up earlier than usual to get ready for work. He didn't want me to go to work so we argued for nearly an hour. He got a call from his "bruhs" so he gave in. I dropped his off at his LB's house and headed off to work. I was driving to work, but I drove right past the exit and 3 hours later I was in my grandmother's living room crying and explaining my dilemma.<br /><br />She took me to her doctor and sure enough I was pregnant. They scheduled me another appointment for August 7th. (2 days) I spoke with the adoption agency and they were speaking with the potential family. <br /><br />Consequently, on the day of my appointment, it was confirmed that I had some sort of rupture. (This is why I had a menstrual cycle throughout the duration of this pregnancy.) Dehydration and mild malnutrition were the primary cause of the non-existent bump. When they checked for the baby's heart beat there was a faint one and then none. As horrible as this sounds, I was somewhat relieved. <br /><br />They gave me medication to induce labor, but they were preparing me for a still birth or momentary life. At 3:33 am on August 8th I gave birth to a 6lb 8oz baby boy. He did not cry, he barely made a sound. They took him immediately to run tests and what not. I hate to admit feeling relieved, but it's true. <br /><br />Yet nothing could prepare me for what happened next. <br /><br />The doctor came in and told me that "he" was perfectly healthy; which again baffled them...and me. My mother must've known what I was feeling because she immediately took the baby from the nurse because I had no intention on doing so. I refused to even look at him. I lay there in silence and cried myself to sleep.<br /><br />I woke up the next morning thinking...hoping it was all a dream, but it most assuredly was not. And to my immediate surprise my aunt and uncle who lived in Missouri was there. It became clear to me that my mom and grandma had called in reinforcements...MAJOR ONES! <br /><br />Before I could say a word my uncle said, "I will not tell you what to do. But I will ask you not to give the baby up for adoption. We would like to to take him, and raise him as our own. He's family." <br /><br />I was confused, angry, hurt, and guilt ridden. Let me explain. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Confused</span> because I really didn't know how I ended up in this situation or what was the right thing to do. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Angry</span> because I had confided in my grandmother about the adoption and I felt betrayed. Not to mention that this conception came from rape. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Hurt</span> because I felt like I had let everyone down. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Guilt ridden</span> because of all of the above and because I had 2 children and I wasn't even 21.<br /><br />Words escaped me so I cried. Then frat boy showed up.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-51937143648215282012010-04-09T15:06:00.000-07:002010-04-10T23:15:09.387-07:00Part 3.3 Fluorescent LightsBelieve it or not this "relationship" carried on. My weight was fluctuating in the size 3-5 range. I was drinking on a level where only a drunk could even get close to me. I was so afraid of him that I only went to class and back to my room.<br /><br />I didn't eat only drank and slept. I didn't call him and we only talked when he initiated it. He controlled everything from where I went to what I wore. I was a puppet. In fact, I missed my final because he told me if I left my room I'd beg for death. He didn't want me getting a better grade in the course than him, so that 0 pulled my 125 A+ to a B- while he got the A.<br /><br />After summer school was over, I stayed in town with him and one of his friends because my job was still going and the dorms had closed. It wasn't unusual to come home from work and find a houseful of girls and other fraternity members kicking it. I became immune to it. <br /><br />On July 29th, I came home and it was even worse than ever. Half naked girls everywhere and he was having a menage on the living room floor. I stared down at them half in amazement and half in disgust. He looked at me and said, "bitch if you don't stop looking at me I will get two brooms this time." Shame and hurt overwhelmed me. Everyone started to laugh as he told the story of my sodomy, except for one girl in the room who looked almost as mortified as I felt. I ran into the room we shared and starting crying.<br /><br />I can't remember every detail from that point only sketches here and there. I remember looking for his gun and wanting to shoot him, but I didn't want to go to prison. I thought about shooting myself but what if I didn't do it right and I ended up a vegetable. One thing was certain, I wanted to be anywhere but here. But I knew he would not just let me walk out and there was no more fight in me. I looked on the dresser and saw his frat brother's Valium. And in that instance I knew what I had to do. <br /><br />I picked up the phone and had a casual conversation with my grandmother. I remember telling her I love her like 20 times and her asking me if I were alright. I remember Caleb's little voice making noises. I remember thinking how much better off he would be with my family raising him, because his mother was fucked up beyond repair.<br /><br />(At this point I had stopped going home to see my son. I was too embarrassed of what I had become. I just knew he could see right through me. I couldn't bear to be anymore of a disappointment to anyone. I needed at least one person's lasting image of me to be a good one. I didn't want to lose his love and I knew if he laid eyes on me he wouldn't love me anymore either.)<br /><br />I remember taking a shower and putting on my nice underwear because I didn't want to embarrass my grandmother by having on raggedy or dirty panties. I walked back out into the front room and looked at everyone. I grabbed a bottled water and expressionlessly (or so I'd like to think) I walked back into the room. I look at the girl from before and she returned a look of empathy. I feigned a smile and walked back into the room.<br /><br />I don't know how many pills were in the bottle, but I took every one. All I know is that I became over powered by sleep, I felt physically heavy, but emotionally light. I'd like to tell you that I saw a bright light but I didn't. All I remember was darkness and I succumbed to it. Anywhere had to be better than this.<br /><br />When Bella said, "death is easy but life is so much harder". This had to be what she was referring to. The peaceful darkness was replaced by fluorescent lights, beeping sounds, and unfamiliar faces. I felt disoriented,confused, and sore. There was a tube in my nose, an IV in my arm, and people so many people. I remember thinking "wow dead people can hear and see" and "I did put on my new panties right?" <br /><br />Then I heard someone say, "it was touch and go there for a while but she's gonna be alright." "Who was gonna be alright?" I thought. Surely, they couldn't be talking about me. Who would have found me in time? I had planned this so well. <br /><br />Sometime later, I woke up to see my parents and grandparents sitting in various places around the bed. I pretended to be sleep so I could think of a feasible explanation for my parents, but there was none. I scanned the room and saw frat boy talking to my mom and pretending to be concerned.<br /><br />While I was going over my disdain for him and thinking of a better way to successfully erase my existence next time, the doctor walked in. With a stern but concerned look on his face he explained to me that if I hadn't gotten there when I did I would not have made it. <br /><br />When he asked me why I did it, I just turned away and didn't answer him. He repeated himself, but this time when I didn't answer, he told me that I shouldn't just think of myself but the implications this could have on my unborn child.<br /><br />He continued on by saying, "looking at your weight and size I would say you couldn't be more than a couple of weeks pregnant, but we're gonna run some tests to be sure."<br /><br />The room was eerie quiet, because it was just me and the doctor in there; which was good. Because that meant I didn't have to further embarrass myself in front of anybody nor did I have to explain my decision. I could just get it over with.<br /><br />All I kept thinking about was "I am NOT giving birth to his demon seed by no means so point me in the direction of the nearest clinic!" But in the back of my mind I kept remembering that we had never had sex without a condom. EVER!!! <br /><br />Then I thought "don't tell me this bastard plotted on me too!" <br /><br />And more importantly, I had never missed a period, in fact I was mid-monthly right now; so how the hell could I be pregnant?<br /><br />But my thoughts were cut short when the doctor came back and told me I wasn't a couple of weeks pregnant, I was 37 weeks pregnant making my date of conception November 9th the night I got raped by Chi-town. (the only time I'd ever been condomless)<br /><br />Why hadn't I died?PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-36939236529418699432010-04-09T11:40:00.000-07:002010-04-10T22:56:24.560-07:00Part 3.2 The Breaking PointA week later, he called me and asked me to meet him somewhere so he could at least apologize and explain. He claimed he knew that I wasn't going to take him back, but he owed me an explanation and an apology. I agreed to meet him, but it had to be somewhere public.<br /><br />We met in the library and talked for about 2 hours. My roommate was sitting at a nearby table just as a fail safe. Around 10, we left the library and started making our way back to the dorms. When we were in eyesight of the dorm my roommate went inside; as I turned to him to say goodnight, he shoved me against the building. He held me with one hand and reached in his bag and pulled out a gun with the other. He said, "I should kill you right now." <br /><br />I started crying, I was thinking about my young son, and my family. Then he started crying. And just like a scene from a movie he started ranting about being sorry and never meaning to hurt me. How much he loved me and knew that I was real. I don't know that I have ever been more scared in my life. I stood there mortified. He went from pointing the gun at me to pointing it at himself. <br /><br />He asked me if I could ever forgive him and give him another chance, but I said I needed time. He got so angry and yelled "It's another nigga ain't it?" I was like "no, you just really hurt me." He started flipping out again, and put the gun to his temple. I knew the gun was loaded he'd always had it for emergencies. By this point I was stone stiff. <br /><br />As wrong as this sounds there is a part of me who wishes I would have let him blow his brains out, then it would have ended right there that night. I could have started the healing process, but consequently this was just the beginning. <br /><br />I begged him to put the gun down and he said he would only do it if "I loved him again and gave him the chance to make it right." You can call me stupid, but you never know what you will agree to in order to not have someone's blood on your hands...literally.<br /><br />Here we go again.<br /><br />Surprisingly, things were going well. He was the person I initially fell for. I can't lie I was terrified of him still. One night my girls hit up a party, and if you know us when we step out we're all the way fly. We get there and it's poppin', the crowd the DJ everything was just on. <br /><br />I was making my way across the dance floor to get to the lounge area when I saw him damn near fucking this girl on the dance floor. Dancing is one thing, but what they were doing was way more. She led him off the dance floor and proceeded to let him fuck her in the restroom. I followed them, it was like I was in a trance. I got so pissed, but I've never been one for a scene. <br /><br />(In writing this, I realize this is where the first change in me happened.) <br /><br />Right in that instance, a very handsome guy grabbed my arm and said, "you wanna dance with me ma?" I smiled at the invitation and opportunity. (oh and this is when I fell in love with east coast accents.)<br /><br />I was already tipsy, but I downed the rest of my Hen and Alize and followed him out to the dance floor. And we danced for the next 4 or 5 songs, truthfully I didn't even think about frat boy after the 1st song ended. I was enjoying myself. Mr. East Coast and I left the dance floor and went to sit in the lounge area. He ordered us each another drink and we were just talking when Frat boy appeared out of nowhere and flipped the table over. Just as the altercation was about to pop off Frat boy's 5 LBs came out of nowhere and they were about to jump him. So I asked him to stop and I left the club with him. <br /><br />We stood in the parking lot and argued. He called me every type of whore he could think of and even made up words. I never told him what I saw. He grabbed me but before he could go any further one of his LBs grabbed him and made him leave. Too embarrassed to go back in, I walked back to campus. <br /><br />The next day he "blamed it on the alcohol". And I pretended to accept, but I don't think I ever did because like I said that night changed me. I had a new mentality, "niggas ain't shit and I'm gonna get you before you get me." My girls had always told me it was imperative to have a piece on the side "dick in a glass case" per se. And I had a former "friend" who was dying to get back in, so after contemplating the whole situation I decided to hit him up.<br /><br />And just like that I had went from team member to general manager. And I started building a roster. I didn't care what he did or said because I barely listened. When he didn't show up to spend time with me I had a dude on my roster whose sole purpose was to be arm candy. When he was out "creeping", I was in getting my brains beat in. When I wanted a study partner, I had someone for that too. My starting 5 all played their roles to perfection. <br /><br />One day, he and I were driving back to campus and I saw a license plate that read "kpitdwnlw" or something like that and I laughed. He got so mad, he didn't say anything all the way back to campus. When we got in my room, I put my purse down and turned around into his fist. This is the first time he ever disregarded my face. He blacked my eye, and busted my lip. And just like deja vu when I started to fight back he broke my hand but this time it was the right one. <br /><br />He knew my roommate and suite mates were at the mall so he unleashed. I didn't scream because I was trying to hold on to what little oxygen I had left. And there aren't many people in summer school so who was gonna hear me? He pinned me to the bed on my stomach, pulled my dress up grabbed my broom and said, "you won't give me anal so I'll take it and teach you a lesson too bitch. I know you're fucking someone else and I'm gonna teach you. I will break you. You won't be worth shit when I'm done with you." I could feel it all the way in my chest. There was blood every where.<br /><br />I was broken.<br /><br />For the next few weeks, I walked around like a zombie. I had 22 stitches and I let him do whatever he wanted with all these girls and with me. And he had finally done it. I felt like nothing. <br /><br />Who was gonna love me now?PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-77317266106347656912010-04-07T13:36:00.000-07:002010-04-10T22:40:00.449-07:00Part 3.1 Frat Boys Suck!!!Long before becoming a Zeta; I was a 3 person by nature. I was born to be a Tre. Everything in my life (in retrospect has happened in threes)I like my alliteration in threes, I'm the eldest of 3, I'm the 3rd person in my family to get a college degree. The list could go on...<br /><br />My granddad told me that trouble comes in threes. Adhering to his wisdom, I agreed and believed him. So it should have been no surprise that my 3rd attempt at obtaining a healthy relationship would lead me to this...<br /><br />I met frat boy (although he wasn't greek yet he was on line) through my suite mate. They were study partners and he asked her to introduce us. When we met, I was still dating Chi-town and I was upfront with him about that. So we agreed to only embark upon a friendship. <br /><br />The week before Christmas break he crossed. So when break came we rode home together because we lived in neighboring cities. We talked only twice during the break. Once to wish me a Merry Christmas, and the second time to wish me a Happy New Year and to ask for a ride back to school.<br /><br />We remained friends, and I had gotten him a lanyard as a crossing gift. When the whole birthday debacle happened he was there to comfort me. We ran into each other in the library and the conversation just flowed. We started talking and it was just a natural transition for us to be together.<br /><br />I don't know how or why I didn't hear the loud ass sirens. Again! Everyone had warned me since freshman year to never ever date Greeks. And I had made a point to hold fast to that warning...until now. But I didn't see him as the prototypical "Greek" He was a shy country boy; kinda nerdy with the cutest little baby face. We had so much in common. We studied together, played cards together, shot pool, dominoes and got good grades. I was majoring in accounting and he was a marketing major we were a seemingly perfect pair.<br /><br />About a month into our relationship things took a turn. His new found popularity due to being Greek began to surface. Girls started throwing themselves at him. Even when I was with him, girls would walk right up and tell him they wanted to fuck. It was as if I were invisible. <br /><br />You would think he would at least play them to the left while I was there, but he didn't. He entertained it and said things like "I bet you do" or "you know you can't handle me sweetie." Then laugh like she had told him a funny joke. When I expressed how uncomfortable that made me feel, he said "hey I have an image to maintain. You know I don't want them." Something in that declaration made me feel a little better, but I should've known better.<br /><br />(Let me clarify something here. Before he and I got together and prior to his Greek status, chicks were not checking for him. He and I had long talks about how girls used to diss him. How the only girls to ever give him the time of day were the 3 girls he had dated over the course of his ENTIRE life (which includes high school). Other girls dismissed him. So he often asked me what I saw in him and I poured out my heart to him. I told him I was more captivated by his brain and personality than anything else. I explained that while I did find him attractive those were the things I was falling for. Looks fade but character is forever. I wanted him for who he was and not what he looked like.)<br /><br />Over the next week or so I could see the changes in him. No more shyness, contacts replaced the glasses, and he worked out like a body builder; often walking around shirtless. Now I'm all for self improvement when you're doing it for yourself, but I knew there was something more. I complimented him on his new physique, but I told him that I hope he had not changed who he really was, but when he assured me that he hadn't I was not convinced.<br /><br />The following week the frat was having a male auction. And the flier said the winners gets 24 exclusive hours with whomever they had purchased. I told him I was uncomfortable with him participating, so he promised me that he would just host the event.<br /><br />However, the night of the event he called me to tell me that he was being highly requested by the females so the bruhs wanted him to be the headliner and he had agreed. He asked me to come and buy him, to make it a win win. On principle I couldn't do it. I felt like auctions were too representative of slavery.<br /><br />My suite mate decided that she was going to go and she was going to buy him for me but that did not happen.<br /><br />The frat had a record attendance and his immediate ex who we shall call hurricane bought him for $750. Yes seven hundred and fifty dollars!!!! (No one else went for more than $50) When my suite mate returned and told me what had happened I cried. I didn't see or hear from him for 2 days. Within those 48 hours; which seemed endless, I made up in my mind that I did not want to be with him, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. <br /><br />My roommate Shaunie decided to treat me to lunch at a nearby eatery on the 2nd day because she knew I wouldn't have left the room otherwise. I was trying to focus my attention on our conversation when I saw him. He and hurricane were cuddled up in a booth in the restaurant. They were so wrapped up in each other they never looked up at me or Shaunie. I ran out of the place before either of them could notice me. Shaunie ordered us some food and met me at the room some time later.<br /><br />(This is the part where I started to question my standpoint. I paced my room chastising myself for being so petty and not going to the auction. I blamed myself because I didn't support him. I kept feeling like I should have been there. Honestly, I didn't have $750 and even if I did, I would not have spent it on that...or so I would like to believe.) <br /><br />Seeing him with her should have been the end of it, but you know that would be too much like right. On day 3 (ha) he showed up at my room citing how he was back and since she had spent so much money they gave her 48 hours. He and his LB claimed that nothing happened, and I accepted his explanation. Not because I believed him, but because I <span style="font-style:italic;">wanted<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span> to believe. (Had I understood the bond between LBs I would have told them to get the fuck out)<br /><br />About a week later, he was back to being his "new" self. Flirting with every girl he saw. Disappearing at night because they were having "SET" when I knew better. One day when I called him on it I will never forget what he said, "Look here you fat bitch if you would go the gym and work out, skip a couple of meals maybe I wouldn't be so tempted. I mean it's not like you can ever wear a bikini with those horrid stretch marks but you could do something with yourself." <br /><br />I was a size 6 thinner than I had ever been. <br /><br />"He told me that I was lucky to be in his life and I should just play my position." I asked him who the fuck he thought he was and I told him to get the fuck out of my room then I added, "just because you don't think I look good doesn't mean shit; trust me I know someone else who likes it very much."<br /><br />And that's when it happened. He slapped me. At first he looked shocked, but I truly believe he fed off of my fear. And he kept slapping and kicking me while I was balled up in the corner. He didn't stop until my roommate walked in and screamed at him to stop. She had to call his name 3 times. He looked at her and told her it was my fault, then left.<br /><br />For the next few hours I refused to move. I think I was emotionally paralyzed. My roommate finally asked me, "what happened?" I just said it was my fault and went into the shower and cried.<br /><br />I honestly did believe it was my fault. I should have just kept my damned mouth shut. I examined my body and I didn't even see the bruises and scars all I saw were the flaws he had so casually mentioned. I knew I had a smart mouth so I reckoned that I had caused his reaction. <br /><br />While he was hitting me he told me how "I was lucky to have him, lucky anyone would look at me, and the fact that I had a child meant he was the best I would ever do. And no one would ever love me. And how he barely wanted me. And that I needed to shape up before he was gone." <br /><br />I flashed all the way back to my son's father. And I agreed that I would never have anyone to love me. So I decided I would do whatever it took. <br /><br />"Having a piece of man is better than having no man at all" Right?<br /><br />So I stopped eating and I spent every free minute in the gym. He told me that if I really loved him I would sacrifice at least 4 meals per week. Meaning I could only eat on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And I did it. Even then if he saw me eating something he didn't feel was "worthy" he snatched it from me or dragged me to the gym for an extra hour. (I already spent 4 hours a day in there.) <br /><br />After passing out and ending up in the infirmary I went to the cafe to eat with my friends. I saw him sitting alone and I went to sit next to him. He looked at my food on the tray and said, "I see some things will never change. I don't want to sit next to you Ms. Piggy" and he poured a bowl of jambalaya on me. I ran out of there so fast, and he yelled behind me, "if you did more of that you wouldn't be such a porker." I was down to a size 4 but I didn't just look thin, I looked ill.<br /><br />About 3 hours later, his neo showed up at my door to apologize on his behalf. He told me how sorry he was and wanted to know if he could come over. I told him "Hell No!!" So he left. At about 4 am I heard a knock on my door. I thought it was my roommate who frequently left her keys so I got up and groggily opened the door. It was him!<br /><br />I tried to hurry and close the door but he easily overpowered me. He barged in grabbed me and choked me. He smelled like a bar. He commenced to whipping my ass. When he realized I was gonna fight back he broke my hand. The pain was so horrendous. Everything started to spin and I was eerily silent. I thought my eardrum had burst and I was deaf, but I was somewhat thankful for the silence. I just lay there and I remember him wailing on me for I don't know how long because my hand hurt so bad. He was ripping off my panties when the night officer came in. A neighbor had called the campus police, but the one who came was his frat brother so he got off with a warning and I drove myself to the hospital because I didn't want anyone to see me like this again.<br /><br />He had made sure not to mark up my face, but there were hand prints around my neck and my body was covered in bruising. When I finally got home, I told everyone I fell down the stairs and that's how I broke my hand and got the bruises. The same lie I told my father because I had to use his insurance. I wore jeans and long sleeves to mask the rest. <br /><br />You would think this would be the end.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-31063916338892849092010-04-06T16:50:00.000-07:002010-04-07T12:30:27.215-07:00Part 2 (Worst Birthday Ever)But it wasn't until I went to college and met through a mutual friend one of the men who would change my life forever...on Halloween who was dressed like a clown. Bad omen right? Didn't cross my mind til I was looking at it in hindsight. But what attracted me to him was his artsiness. He was a musician who wrote and played music. He was so talented and so damned smart and funny. I'm a sucker for an artist especially a musician.<br /><br />He and I were friends in my opinion and when I introduced him as such he pulled me to the side and said, "so is this all we are?" I was like, "yeah, because you never asked me for more than my friendship." He got angry stormed off, but when we were leaving the party and I was dropping him off at his dorm, he turned and asked me to be his girlfriend." <br /><br />I was kinda stunned because we had ridden home in complete silence. I looked him in his eyes and said, "I'll think about it and get back with you tomorrow or the next day." (I'm a firm believer in if you want more than friendship you better ask me straight up or you'll never have anything more)He got out of the car and said, "please don't make me wait forever." I smiled, and drove off.<br /><br />Nevertheless by November 3rd we were officially an item. And by November 9th he was raping me in his dorm room. But somehow he managed to convince me that I wanted it and he didn't hear me say stop. He went on to say that someone like him would never have to rape anyone. I couldn't deny that girls were running after him. He went on to say that I should feel lucky that he had chosen me. Cliche huh? <br /><br />Well needless to say, the relationship continued on and I picked up an excessive drinking habit. I wanted...no I needed the escape no matter how short lived it was. We were having sex nearly every day and while most times I felt like Miss Celie, I was just happy that someone wanted me. But just before Christmas break he invited me to the Chi-Town Christmas party at his homeboy’s new place and I wish I had read the signs. He said it was couple’s only, sign #1. Naïve 19 year old me thought nothing of it. When we arrived, the house was completely dark except for a make shift strobe light, sign #2. And a shot of no one knows what and 4 drags on the blunt was required before you could get past the foyer, sign #3. <br /><br />I don’t remember everything I saw, but I remember Do or Die playing loudly and trying to step over bodies. I was so uncomfortable. Then his homeboy said, “the virgin” is here. I didn’t think he was talking about me because I was certainly not a virgin, but that should have been sign #4. They all got up and stared at me some smiling, some glaring but staring nonetheless. They decided to play a game of truth or dare. I opted out because I knew that whatever was about to happen was way beyond my level. Everyone nodded because I could tell they felt the same way. This truth or dare was like nothing I had ever witnessed. All questions pertained to something or someone in the room, and every dare was either nudity or a sexual act to be performed in front of the group with partners exempt from the one they came with; sign #5-10. <br /> <br />I was quieter than a church mouse, and I guess they figured I should have built up my understanding to the rules so the dares got personal. My current’s ex, (who was now with his best friend and everyone was cool with this sign #11) was dared to give him a 5 minute blow job while fingering herself, and whomever cums first gets it licked/sucked up by the other. I just knew he was gonna be like “can’t do it, my girl’s right here etc etc” but not today. She crawled, yes I said crawled over to him, unzipped his pants and went to work. Did I mention all she had on was a bra and panties? Everyone was staring, and it wasn’t until she came and he had to “clean up the mess” did I realize I was crying. I grabbed my keys and ran out of there. I unlocked my car and sat in the driver’s seat for a moment waiting for him to come out after me, but I realized about 5 minutes later that he wasn’t coming, so I left.<br /><br />When I arrived in the café, the next morning for breakfast he was sitting at my table looking pitiful. He kept telling me he was sorry and that he didn’t leave because he didn’t want his friends to think he was soft. I had never told my friends what happened because I was too embarrassed, but I wish I had and maybe they would have saved me from making the next mistake…taking him back.<br /><br />Christmas break went by, and we talked weekly. I couldn’t wait to get back to school to see him and he claimed to feel the same. That month seemed like forever. We were together all the time. By the time we got back, my birthday was rapidly approaching. He and my best friend had gone shopping and they had picked out the perfect gift to solidify our relationship. The suspense was killing me, but the day had finally come. He told me he wasn’t gonna see me at all that day until 5pm so our date could begin. I got my hair and nails done. I bought a new outfit and I hung out with his homeboy because he was supposed to escort me to surprise #1. <br /><br />While I got ready his homeboy and I talked and joked around, and he kept saying, “I didn’t know you were so cool and I can’t believe he got you.” We both laughed. After I finished I noticed his homeboy staring at the floor. I said, “I’m ready.” And he looked at me, and said, “You’re a nice girl and you don’t deserve this.” I didn’t know what he meant so I asked “what do you mean?” He said, “do you know where your man is right now?” I said, “No, but I’m sure he’s getting ready for my birthday surprise.” He said, “Surprise yes, but YOU aren’t his top priority right now.” <br /><br />I froze. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, “take me to him.” He walked me over to one of the other girl’s dorms and he gave me the room number. It looked so familiar but I didn’t know why. We snuck in the side door, got on the elevator. When we got to the fourth floor my feet automatically knew where to go, because I had been here before. Instead of knocking, I just pushed open the slightly cracked door. And there he was naked in bed with my friend. <br /><br />Happy Birthday!<br /><br />So here I sit wondering what didn't I do? What didn't I give him? What's wrong with me? AGAIN. <br /><br />If the same thing happens to you twice, it must be you right?PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-43353319024942637462010-04-06T15:15:00.000-07:002010-04-26T22:04:03.055-07:00Why I am the way I am when it comes to relationships Pt. 1<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8jB59oHDYT36K-vVEzktS_rv2Vq4kvdaDRv4UKULauDtfHcyMU4LaCpmUU7kkzU9tq2c5GlQEEYGW3pmOZNfAFpwKUDJuthoTks_bhbNkj6eanOoWb2II2nDlYMeok7XBxxjLxNmWHg/s1600/bl5.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8jB59oHDYT36K-vVEzktS_rv2Vq4kvdaDRv4UKULauDtfHcyMU4LaCpmUU7kkzU9tq2c5GlQEEYGW3pmOZNfAFpwKUDJuthoTks_bhbNkj6eanOoWb2II2nDlYMeok7XBxxjLxNmWHg/s320/bl5.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464178798520841762" /></a><br />Is withholding information the same as lying? Is it dishonest? Does it make or break a relationship, friendship, or partnership of any kind?<br /><br />Recently, I was talking to Pooh and he said that as an attorney he does NOT believe that withholding information is lying and my soror who is also an attorney completely agrees. What we agree on specifically is that someone with whom you have not made a verbal commitment of full disclosure should not be upset when he/she finds out things about you that they didn't know regardless of how close you are.<br /><br />I honestly, do not believe that I know everything about the 5 most important people in my life whom I love dearly and would do most anything for. And I'm not mad at them for that, especially when I know they don't know everything about me even things that are of relative importance. I don't share a lot of things because I don't want to be judged. Also, some of my life choices were/are not wise. Thirdly, I'm just embarrassed. <br /><br />I was analyzing this over that last couple of months and I came to the conclusion that I must have self esteem issues. (As if I haven't known this since I was in preschool) <br /><br />For example, of all the girls in my family I was the one who was sexually abused by various family members. Just me, and I have to wonder what did I do wrong or what's wrong with me? When I finally found the courage to tell no one cared. My great grandmother told me never to lie, but when I was honest it always seemed to get me no where. So while lying seemed like the better alternative, I just chose to withhold or remain silent instead. (no pun intended)<br /><br />I have never known my father, but he had time to raise 4 or 5 kids just not me. So you could say I have daddy issues...MAJOR ones.<br /><br />I think this is where the tomboy in me comes from. I figure if males accept me they won't abuse me. They would see me as an equal and not the lesser or weaker sex. I would have some sanctuary.<br /><br />I can't think of one healthy relationship I have been in or even seen for that matter. My grandfather cheated, my step-father, and my uncle by marriage. My other uncle by marriage was in the "game" and got murdered but all of that aside he was a great husband and father, but I still don't consider that healthy. My eldest uncle moved away and then got married and the few instances I've been around them, he had to tell his wife what to do and leave her notes with instructions. She was a stay at home mom and he controlled the family finances to the penny and that's not healthy to me either. Marriage is or at least should be a partnership even if one of the partners chooses to stay at home and raise the family.<br /><br />Now, I can truthfully say my youngest uncle and his wife seem to have a healthy marriage, but when I say I haven't seen it; it is because they lived away while I was growing up and imprinting my ideas of relationships. So I can't really make a call on it.<br /><br />Which brings me front and center. Every relationship I have ever been in has been somewhat destructive; whether it was physical or emotional it just was. From the senior I dated freshman year of high school to my "high school sweet heart" who would become my son's father. Let's not forget the jerks in between, who made me feel inferior, because I was smart. Each one of them tainted me on what men were/would be like. I was looking for something and none of them provided such.<br /><br />So I guess I will start with my son's father.<br /><br />We started dating in 11th grade. He was so adorable to me and very under the radar something I still find enticing. He was nice and sweet and so funny. He treated me like a princess. Carrying my books, walking me to class, and taking me out every Saturday. Every summer he bought me school clothes I in turn went to all his games both football and basketball. I tutored him in English to keep him eligible. <br /><br />It wasn't until the end of Senior year that everything started going haywire. Three week prior to prom, I find out he had been cheating on me with a freshman. She came to me and asked me if he and I were still together and when I said yeah. She spilled her guts about the whole situation showing me letters he'd written her ticket stubs from movies I knew he had seen with me on different days. And when I confronted him all he could say was "I'm sorry." So I ended it.<br /><br />I had other options for dates, but his mom begged "on his behalf" for me to take him back and go to prom with him. She agreed to pay for all of my prom expenses from hair and nails to my dress and shoes no matter what the cost. <br /><br />And I did still love him and he did seem sorry. Begging for forgiveness over the school intercom, notes, etc. And I took him back. Prom was cool and we had a lot of fun actually. <br /><br />It wasn't until 2 weeks after graduation, that I became ill. So ill that I was bed ridden. When my grandparents who had already tried every home remedy in the book couldn't get me better they finally took me to the hospital only to find out that I was pregnant and the baby was killing me. I told him, and asked him what he wanted to do. I wanted an abortion he didn't. I went to the doctor and when I heard that heart beat I was done. A baby was on the way.<br /><br />I decided that I would delay college for a year and have the baby. He decided he wasn't waiting and left for the school I had chosen. It hurt a lot because I only considered the motherhood option because he promised to be with me through all of this. I was depressed and my aunt invited me to come live with her and her daughter in Cali, so I moved.<br /><br />By the time I was 7 1/2 months. He and I were in a relationship, though now I believe it was more because of the baby than me. I called him and he was acting strange. I mean, we talked regularly but this time he seemed evasive and distant. I pressed the issue and that's when he hit me with a jab. "I got you pregnant on purpose. I put a hole in the condom. I did this so you wouldn't break up with me again. But now I'm not sure if I even want this or you." And he hung up. I didn't process what he said for at least an hour. To say I was hurt doesn't do it justice. I mean here I am trying to deal with the physical and emotional changes, my educational sacrifices and this is the bullshit I'm hearing after all this time.<br /><br />My friend Misty would write me every week and once I had told her what happened she went on to tell me everything she knew. She said she didn't want to upset me while I was pregnant, but she had seen him with the other girl. I didn't call him or vice versa. I even started seeing someone else, nothing serious just someone to hang out with from time to time.<br /><br />About 1 week from my due date, I went in for my last prenatal ultrasound and they hit me with another jab. They could see a growth on the baby's abdomen and he would have to be checked right after he was born. First him, now the baby. I contemplated calling him, but I didn't. I wanted to have just cause before dialing his number for any reason.<br /><br />On January 28th, he was born 10lbs 9oz 22 1/2 inches of what seemed like nothing but perfection for me. However within the hour he was diagnosed with cancer. They called in a pediatric oncologist and the surgery would have to take place soon in order to ensure that it doesn't spread. So 11 days later he would have surgery and there were no guarantees. I thought his father had the right to know and be there. <br /><br />I called him and told him everything. I explained to him that his son will need a blood transfusion and since they shared a rare blood type of O, they were universal donors but can only receive from another O person so he would need to be here. My family offered to pay for his round trip flight, meals, and hotel. He said his girlfriend wouldn't approve so "good luck with that". And he hung up.<br /><br />I kept asking myself what did I do and how bad of a person am I that I couldn't manage to maintain a relationship with the father of my child. It took a very long time to realize it was his loss and not mine. <br /><br />There is so much more to this saga, but there is no drama. We haven't spoken since our son's 1st birthday. His son wants a relationship with him (something I will never deny him of) and he doesn't make the effort. He's married with 5 other children to someone I went to school with so he claims they're his priority. I refused child support because I don't believe a man should be forced to take care of his responsibilities. <br /><br />I just teach my son to be a good man. And when he's older he can make a decision on who his father really is and I never speak ill of him. I've just become accustomed to the notion that I am mommy and daddy. And I'm good with that, but I can't say it hasn't left me slightly tainted.<br /><br />Momma's baby daddy's maybe.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-85876350166133515812010-04-06T10:38:00.000-07:002010-04-06T10:41:51.894-07:00DepressionI was talking to someone important to me and they told me they believe they’re depressed. Now I had to take a double take when he said it because this is the same person who laughed at me when I confessed that I was depressed and I feel like I don’t know who I have become. Wow. So, I sat back and listened to him continue on about his situation and I honestly felt sympathetic, because more than he will ever understand I understood him. But I couldn’t help but periodically think to myself, why is this concept so conceivable now, but when I confided in him he blew me off? Not to mention that he told me I need to toughen up. Hmmmm...(For future reference it’s never a good idea to tell someone who is or believes they maybe depressed to “toughen up”. That confirms the feelings of uselessness and helplessness.)<br /><br />He went on to say how he had looked up the symptoms of depression and realized that he identified with nearly all of the symptoms both physical and emotional. I, in turn, looked them up and I can honestly say I do see it in him. I can’t lie, I didn’t say anything 1st because he was trying to come face to face with his issues and 2nd because I didn’t know exactly what to say. But there is a 3rd reason and that’s because I was pissed by the way he now wants me to understand and accept his behavior. <br /><br />So, I attempted to offer him some advice like: going to see a doctor and maybe getting on some meds temporarily and he goes on this tirade about how he doesn’t like doing that, and how he’s too strong for that. Again I got pissed because I did go and see someone and I did take meds for about a month and he knew that. I felt like he was taking another shot at me. He even went on to say well when you were (and he did the air quotations) depressed your reasons weren’t like mine. You can get over that. I felt some kind of way about it, and it hurt me. However, I didn’t react; I just got out of the car and went to work. I just didn't understand and I was angry. <br /><br />As I sit here writing this, I’ve had time to think and synthesize the whole conversation. Devaluing someone else’s problems or situations is a selfish act. And focusing on his reaction to my admission was wrong, but he belittling me and my choice of treatment was no better. This drives me to believe that we are unsuitable to be in each others lives as friends or otherwise. Why? Because this is constant with us, he doesn’t sympathize with me unless he deems it worthy and every time I try to be of assistance to him, he tells me all the ways I am wrong. He no longer shows interest in the things of importance to me and I’ve started being so vengeful and acting the same way towards him. That is childish and wrong. I have even gotten to the point where I don’t even try to help or tell him anything because I don’t want to fight about it. I’m tired of going to useless war fronts when there are other things I could be doing. “You can’t fight with someone if you’re the only one in the ring.” I’m forfeiting the fight. I’m tired.PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-555535377089767502010-04-01T08:33:00.000-07:002011-08-07T01:40:46.261-07:003312010It’s been 350 days 5 hours and 1 minute since my heart realized it was in love with you<br />
But it has only been 90 days 3 hours and 14 minutes since my head conceded to what my heart has known for quite some time.<br />
Yet I have spent the last 252 days 8 hours and 16 minutes trying to get rid of you<br />
I have made love to another man<br />
I have told him I love him<br />
But it’s your face I’m seeing<br />
It’s to you I’m confessing <br />
Because I can never find the nerve to say it to you<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Infinite times I’ve imagined the possibilities</div>Infinite times I’ve denied the possibilities<br />
I don’t feel worthy <br />
To have you <br />
To love you<br />
To have you love me<br />
I belong to someone else<br />
But I want to belong to you<br />
I have never wanted and needed someone <br />
I’ve wanted someone<br />
I’ve thought I needed someone<br />
But never both simultaneously<br />
Until I met you<br />
You’re like air to me<br />
Without you I would cease to exist <br />
I would trade all of my possessions to have a lifetime of love with you<br />
209 days 16 hours 33 minutes ago you shattered my world<br />
When you told me you met someone else<br />
And she was a “good girl”<br />
I shared in your joy on the outside<br />
While my insides resembled a nuclear warfare playground<br />
I had never felt so much pain in my life<br />
But it confirmed what I always knew<br />
The way I felt for you was not healthy<br />
So I threw myself into him<br />
Yet 166days 23 hours 45 minutes ago I found myself in your arms<br />
I never gave a second thought about “her”<br />
Whether “she” was still in your life<br />
I just knew that there was no other place in the world for me<br />
I don’t like having no control of my feelings<br />
I haven’t sincerely smiled since the last time I saw you<br />
165 days 10 hours and 44 minutes ago<br />
I decided I would put you out of my life forever <br />
Because I realized I would never be happy without you<br />
And I no longer existed for myself, but for you<br />
And that’s not fair<br />
I only lasted 14 days 22 hours 19 minutes<br />
Before I had to hear from you, <br />
Because I felt like I was smothering. <br />
I cried everyday and every night,<br />
I didn’t eat or sleep<br />
I made my self so sick my fever was 102<br />
13 hours and 30 minutes ago I lay awake in my bed<br />
Missing you like water in the desert<br />
Needing you like a car needs an engine<br />
Feeling for you like a baby for his mother<br />
I’m imprisoned to my feelings for you<br />
And I don’t know how to break free.<br />
Maybe I can start from today and rid my life of you<br />
1 minute ago you texted me<br />
Here we go again.<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixugI9fBELnT5COye6y8HpxQDcK87zjTnAvMnxPgJESJUGLdQG2X6jBRIy1rsMM4FxBUDaxrmYk_CUVR3JW7WrF8Kd6My6fA82V77Fq7975Xe1Vw47bL7Yve4ikzIhg_ZgrsjNYTyME_s/s1600/blackloveart35.jpg" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464659458437712786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixugI9fBELnT5COye6y8HpxQDcK87zjTnAvMnxPgJESJUGLdQG2X6jBRIy1rsMM4FxBUDaxrmYk_CUVR3JW7WrF8Kd6My6fA82V77Fq7975Xe1Vw47bL7Yve4ikzIhg_ZgrsjNYTyME_s/s400/blackloveart35.jpg" style="float: right; height: 300px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 400px;" /></a></div>PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7897574464520630053.post-82369697811291820342010-03-03T13:50:00.000-08:002010-04-25T00:46:50.110-07:00The Love Letter I will Never Send...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTOYUXZ4sQEXLByl_ovewxv4cSjAiS8iRZJFAGjyIKmBu0NNohf3XVKBBxFvUuDyqKvxIn7ABCOiMbQlU6s7UaNur7HRVwiDzhtD71Z6kxidE7sxWdN1SkuaQcJpjS7eGiy_iSYWiU20/s1600/victorian_lady.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTOYUXZ4sQEXLByl_ovewxv4cSjAiS8iRZJFAGjyIKmBu0NNohf3XVKBBxFvUuDyqKvxIn7ABCOiMbQlU6s7UaNur7HRVwiDzhtD71Z6kxidE7sxWdN1SkuaQcJpjS7eGiy_iSYWiU20/s320/victorian_lady.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463978181236367826" /></a><br />I love you. Not that fly by night kiss on the forehead love you see in television movies. The kind where we've been married for 50years; we have 6 children 35 grand children and countless great grand children and people speak of our love as something to aspire too. I never fully understood love until I met you and trust me I have been studying. <br /><br />My love for you came out of nowhere. <br /><br />I wasn't trying to love you. In fact, I was trying to love someone else. <br /><br />But you were the friend I never knew I needed and that was good enough for me. I never had to change who I was/am for you. I could just be and that was good enough for you. You were so strong willed just like me, but yielding my will to yours was so easy for me because you never made me feel weak. Submitting to you seems oddly natural and now I understand what is meant by the phrase “you will know it when you feel it.” And I knew it when I felt you.<br /><br />Then you kissed me. <br /><br />You see, I hate kissing because I think people abuse it. Kissing should be reserved for someone who means something to you. And since night you kissed me I was never the same. I cried myself to sleep after you left, because my greatest fear was realized. You were more than my friend and now losing you was a liability. As cinematic as this sounds you kissing me was like watching my life play, but not the past the future. <br /><br />Our future. <br /><br />You are everything I ever wanted but thought I could never have. So I decided to deny how I felt because I needed my friend. I was afraid that if more happened and it didn't work out, I would lose both and it would destroy me. But keeping it hidden is doing the same thing...destroying me.<br /><br />I came home and tried with all my might to love the man who loves me, but I couldn't. I was only giving him what was left of me because you have the best of me.<br /><br />Ever since we touched I have not been the same. No one has before or since made me feel the way you did and that's simply referring to you looking at me. <br />You see me. I don’t believe anyone has ever seen me. Even the one who loves me doesn’t see me. He never has. <br /><br />You are perfect in all your craziness. There is nothing about you that I don't love. There is nothing about you that I would change except you not being mine. I don't judge you; I only love you...as you are. People who say love is blind are liars. Love is the ability to see the imperfect as perfect and watch as the two incomplete halves mesh and become a perfect whole. I have 20/20 when it comes to you and that only makes me love you more. <br /><br />There is no distance that separates us in my heart. We are one in the same, and as much as I try to deny it, I can't. You are my match; my soul mate; my mental and physical equal. I only pray that I am yours. I try diligently to walk away from you and love he who loves me, but I can't stop loving you. <br /><br />My days are not complete without you and my eyes don't close without thoughts of you first. You have become a part of me all the way to my core. Every morning I awake to visions of your face. At night, I fall asleep pretending to be engulfed in your embrace. You are the only person who can make my heart glad and break it at the same time. I don’t understand the power you have over me. The sun never shines in my world if I’m not with you, so it would seem my whole life has been an overcast. <br /><br />I can't shake you. You say I always talk about replacing you, and it’s just that...talk. I only say it because it hurts so much to be in love with you and you're not in love with me. My dream is to bring you joy from the first light until my eternal last light. And even then if I could send an angel to protect you it would be done, and I would beg God to let she be me.<br />I know I am a writer and I should be able to be more poetic, but I can't. You're the only person who makes me lose my words, but here is my heart. I hope it will suffice. I am in love with you...of this I have no doubt.<br /><br />My friend told me that in order to get over you I needed to first tell you how I feel. But in writing this I realize that I will never be over you. <br />I may move on, but you will always have my heart. I lost it the first time we met and I haven't been able to get it back since...PrinceSsKhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01694662980756684741noreply@blogger.com1