Dante Thoughts Part III: Last night I had a dream (Originally posted 12-5-05)

I dreamt that his death was a dream. In my dream he was a civil engineer working abroad. He flew home for my family's annual Christmas dinner...and on the very night of the dinner no less. A bus dropped him off at the front door and I was peeping out the window when he stepped off of it. In my mind I knew this couldn't be real because Dante is dead and has been dead for almost 5 years. But it was sooo real. I could feel the frost from the window against my nose, my breath condensed on the cold glass, I could hear the Christmas music in the background and smell Turkey and other holiday foods cooking. It was real...it had to be. I could see Dante's face break out into a smile when my grandmother walked up to him and hugged him hello. I hesitated in the doorway unsure what to do with myself. I kept telling myself this is a dream, only a dream. But then a voice whispered that actually, his death was the dream and this was reality. His death was a dream, albeit a prophetic dream. The voice told me that I had to warn Dante to go to the doctor and get his heart checked before it was too late. If he went to the doctor now I could save him, he didn't have to die, he could be saved if I take him to the doctor and get his heart checked right now, right now, right now, the voice insisted! After my grandmother finished greeting Dante his eyes searched until they found me. I didn't think it was possible but his smile grew wider, brighter, so big it dazzled me. He dropped his bags and I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck. We nearly tumbled to the floor. I felt him in my arms. I was not dreaming that, couldn't have been. He felt so real. I could hear his laughter ringing in my ears, smell his cologne tickling my nose, I felt his arms around me squeezing me tightly. God he felt so good, so real. We stood there for what seemed like hours just squeezing each other, my tears wetting his shoulder. He was real, I swear he was. But then I started to panic...he was going to die the voice said. I pulled him to the couch and made him sit with me and I told him we had to go to the doctor immediately. He laughed and told me I was being silly..."I'm fine", he said. I told him that his heart was a ticking time bomb and that on February twenty-first he was going to collapse and die from heart failure. His fingers stroked my cheek and he kissed me and said, "you worry too much, just enjoy me". After that how could I not? So I did. We kissed...deeply. He was exactly as I remembered him. Same smile, same voice, same long arms, same deep eyes, same warm body...everything just as it should be. But for some reason I was filled with anxiety. I knew he was going to die. I couldn't let him die, I needed him. Again I pressed him to go to the doctor so we could be sure he was okay and again he refused. He assured me we had all the time in the world.Then my grandmother's turkey timer went off to alert us that dinner was ready. At the same time my alarm clock went off jarring me from sleep. I turned the clock off and proceeded to cry hysterically, thoroughly soaking my pillow with my sorrow. It was just a dream after all.

I've been crying all morning. My eyes look like lasers. I was doing fine, I really was. I was thinking about him every now and again with no sadness, no pain. What changed? So I talked to him while I sat there in bed crying. I told him I missed him so much it was breaking my heart. I told him it felt like I'd lost him all over again. I told him that no man has ever loved me the way he loved me. I told him I needed him, couldn't go a day without thinking of him. Then I lit a candle for him and started getting ready for work. I cried the whole time. I'm crying now. I've not been this distraught over him in a while. I swear I thought I was gonna wake up and he was gonna be lying next to me smiling. That's how real that dream was. I could smell his cologne on my sheets and in the air, I could still feel his warmth on the left side of my bed...his head had left an indentation on the pillow on the left side of my bed. I never sleep on the left side of my bed! I wish he could come back to me and stay, I need him. Why'd he have to die? Why couldn't it be someone else, someone no one cared about. It isn't fucking fair! We were supposed to travel together, finish reading Aristotle together, go to the lake front and people watch together, lay in the Centennial Rose Garden and dream together, splash in the water at Fountain Square together...we were  supposed to grow old and die TOGETHER. The love of my life is gone and he is never coming back...ever. That is so final. It's so unfair...we'd only just begun. Now the tears won't stop. I don't think they'll ever stop.

More Random Ramblings (Originally posted July 6, 2005)

His chocolate skin
His tight eyes
His smile...it's like the sunrise
His divine body
His emphatic mind
His laugh...it helps me unwind
Damn I miss him





Resignation. Not a sailboat but a speedboat. Heading into the harbor from the hostile open sea.




Sometimes I am so easily discouraged. I hate that. I hate that I allow people to darken my doorstep with their troubles, insecurities and confusion. I've come too far to turn back yet I'm nowhere near the finish line. I don't want to give up but I know I'm gonna come in dead last. A consolation prize just won't do. I don't want a participant's ribbon, I want the trophy of champions. I'm racing so hard that I'm out of breath and I don't know if I can take another step. I've been left behind so many times I don't even know if I can find my way anymore. Not sure I want to do this anymore. I'm too far behind to even the score, every major muscle is sore, I am fatigued to the very core of my being. Seeing as how I have purged every resource available to me what options have I? Lay down and die? Collapse and cry? Keep running? But why? I tried to pursue the prize, tracked its progress with my eyes and ran until blue turned black skies. Running but not moving....stuck in place. Until the race.....is over.



Yeah very random and all over the place. Today I did nothing at all and that was just fine by me. I've been working late every night for the past 3 weeks and I am beyond tired. On Monday, July 25 my girl gave her two weeks notice. I was sad for me but happy for her. Her new position with a new company will afford her way more opportunity for growth. We discussed the possibility of me succeeding her in her current position but that's one promotion I'll gladly pass on. Too much work, too little pay and too much of a headache. People have problems. That is the revelation of the day. I have problems too, don't get me wrong, but I can admit my shit. I may have made a mistake last night. In the moment it seemed right and good but right now, I'm starting to feel remorseful. Oh well, I can't take it back now. I've felt the strong urge to write all day but because I'm a procrastinator and my thought patterns tend to be rather erratic, I'm just now getting around to it. I was just listening to Supa Love by Jean Grae (my favorite female MC and one of my top favorite songs). If you haven't heard that song you need to hear it. It's about love of course, that elusive stranger. In a conversation with a friend I depicted love as a sinister stalker endeavoring to lead its victims down dark escape-less alleys, where once cornered, the victim shall then be bashed in the skull and then left for dead. I know that's probably an unhealthy and abnormal way to look at love but I've been assaulted one time too many. Funny though, I was just having a chatversation with Tammy earlier today about how I was ready to give myself permission to fall in love. What a difference a few hours make. Now anyone who's well acquainted with me knows that tomorrow I'll be singing a different tune. I'm easily frustrated when I don't get my way in matters of the heart. Which brings me to a good question. How do we love? By that I mean with what part of our being do we love people? Do we love with our hearts, spirits or minds? Do we/should we love with all three? Perhaps we are supposed to love with all three but usually we don't. Perhaps love is incomplete until you can love with your heart, spirit and mind. That's what I'm thinking. Why is it so hard for some people to love? Is it fear? Lack of know how? I sure would like some answers, lol. But then, wouldn't we all? There are times when I can feel my heart shutting down. I feel my spirit becoming less and less receptive to its desire to connect with someone. I am so comfortable with my own company now that being with someone is no longer a deep desire. It would be nice to be with someone though because I have the sex drive of a pack of wild bitches in heat, lol. But sex should not be the primary reason for desiring a relationship. I know the tone of this blog is somewhat pessimistic but in truth, I remain hopeful that someday a man will enter my life with much fanfare and remind me how good reciprocal love truly is. Until then, I'll vent my frustrations so I don't become the dreaded BBW (bitter black woman).

I have lost my faith...(Originally posted Friday, June 10, 2005)

In the inherent goodness of people, the power of love but most of all in my ability to remain unscathed by the wounds the universe unwittingly dispenses. All my life I have strived to be diplomatic, compassionate, open minded, resillient and forthright. I just can't do it anymore. I'm tired. Over the past few months I have purposely withdrawn myself from many of my circles...I find my own company to be a safe and welcome retreat from the confusion and selfishness that the human horde exhudes. The catalyst in my decision was my recent attempt to reconcile a relationship that was once of great importance to me. As it turns out, the party I once held in such high esteem sought only the solace of my familiarity and willingness to forgive and forget. For a moment I actually believed he cared about me, missed me and wanted to give it another go. That is afterall, what he claimed. But truth be told, he meant only to use me as the pain killer for the love/lust gone wrong ache. Amazing how some men will choose to frolick with court jesters when they can reign with Queens. But I guess such is life right? At any rate, my first mind was to curse him until I was blue in the face, but that would be a waste of my precious time, energy and emotions. Instead, I told him to seek help elsewhere because I am not the 1 the 2 the 3 the 4 or the 5. Suffice it to say I'm done with him mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I have nothing left to give.

It seems like a mighty long time...(Monday, May 16, 2005)

Since I've had anything to say. I've been in a funk lately. For a long time now actually. Remember that man I was so sprung on? Yeah, well my head is all fucked up over him. That pisses me off because usually I'm pretty resilient. I keep telling myself there was nothing great or spectacular about him (other than the mind numbing, earth shattering, heaven-help-me-because-I'm-going-straight-to-hell, incredibly orgasmic sex we had). In truth, this man was like an extension of me. I feel like a part of me is gone. I mean, whenever something good/bad/stupid/incredible/funny/or whatever happened to me, he was the first person I called and vice versa. We talked about everything, he was (prepare for overused cliche) the Ying to my Yang, we were like Siamese fucking twins...or so I thought. He was one of my best friends and now...he's gone. Why can't I just get over him? I can't even look at anther man without feeling revulsion. This is not good. My ability to create has damn near shriveled to nothingness and I spend too much damn time thinking about his ass. I know he's not thinking about me, not missing me, not giving a shit if I live or die...so why is it I'm here still pining after him? A friend of mine told me the best way to get over one man is with another...but I can't do it. Just the thought of another man touching me makes me sick to my stomach...literally. That is why I've been spending so much time alone. I go out alone, I stay in alone, I shop alone...shit I haven't even wanted to get myself off. You know, I'm starting to believe this muthufucka put roots on me or something, lol. Maybe he buried a pair of my drawls in his backyard. I have only had it this bad one other time and that was after my first love and I broke up.

Several weeks ago I hung out with a friend of mine and he told me I had it bad. Now I didn't mention the man that has my head all fucked up whatsoever and I was in a spectacularly good mood, but somehow my friend intuited that I was in a bad way. Of course I was offended. I was like, how dare you imply that I don't have my shit together. The kid doesn't lose it over any man...believe that! Well, he just looked at me like I was a fool and laughed and said, "keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." Well I don't feel better fuck you very much! I'm telling you that I am through with love and men. Period. Done. Finito. I cannot lose my head like this again, I don't like how it feels. I don't like feeling out of control and vulnerable. I don't like having my fucking feelings crushed...I'm usually the crusher. Maybe that's why I'm going through this...KARMA. I promise I'll be nice from now on. Okay, I promise I won't be as mean anymore. Fuck it, I'll just stay the hell away from people period...that's the only way to avoid hurting and getting hurt. Yeah right, lol. Well at least I haven't done anything undignified like contacting him. His fucking loss. I love him so much I hate him. This can't be healthy. Anyone know a Root Doctor, lol?

Angry, frustrated, sad, resigned and more...(Original post date Tuesday, March 01, 2005)

Today was a great day. Today was a horrible day. "O" called me at 3:55 this morning drunk as all hell acting silly on the phone. In a way I was happy to hear from him but I was also annoyed as all hell. I mean, I've not been sleeping well at all for the past week or two and I was on the phone with him from around midnight Saturday until I think 8 in the morning Sunday. I didn't get in bed until close to 2 AM Monday so suffice it to say, a sistah was heated when the phone rang. He's done this before...he'll call me at some ungodly hour and want to chit chat. Usually I don't mind, but with the break between us, that shit just isn't cool. Now I say it wasn't cool but at the same time it was so good to hear his voice. I fuckin' go to pieces when I hear this man's voice and I hate it! I wanted to cuss him out and hang up in his face but instead I talked to him for an entire 30 minutes. Mind you I had to be at work at 8:30 AM. Talk about no decency or consideration right? Not that I don't claim any responsibility...I do. I could have let the phone ring or like I said above, cursed him out and hung up on him. At any rate, he talked shit, I listened and laughed all the while thinking...he still loves me right? I mean this phone call has to mean something other than his drunk ass calling to act silly. Damn I over-analyze everything. Always searching for meaning when sometimes there is no deeper meaning....it is what it appears to be. When we hung up it was like my heart had been crushed all over again, only not as bad as the first time. I just want to forget about him. Fuck being friends (why dudes always wanna be friends anyway?) I have enough gatdamn friends. I'm a black or white person...I have no time or desire to live in gray areas. But that is where he is trying to imprison me. But here's the situation...I can't imagine not talking to him but I hate the fact that he's on this "let's be friends" shit. I feel like I'm in limbo and I despise him for putting me there. I know I can walk away anytime....right? Damn I'm caught up. I HATE THIS. His ass isn't thinking about me but here I am agonizing. Fuck this and fuck him. Asshole.

Transition (Original post date Saturday, February 26, 2005)

It's amazing how you can know something is going to happen before it actually happens. Earlier this week I knew "O" was going to start with his John Kerry-esque behavior again. When I received the e-mail stating "we need to talk", I knew something wasn't right. Even before the e-mail....I just knew. But I pretended all was well, perhaps because I wanted all to be well. Funny how we lie to ourselves. So here I sit, trying not to be sad because the end that I knew was coming came. I wonder if he's sad? I wonder if he is thinking about me right now? I've been here before. I got over it faster than I thought I would. I still love him fiercely. I don't want to. I want to forget him and maybe pretend like he and I never were. But no, that's just the hurt speaking. I want to one day look back on he and I and smile with no hint of sadness or regret. I am grateful I had the opportunity to know him, love him and spend time with him. He is a beautiful creature. He has some truly deep seated issues, but that does not detract from his light. I told him that he needs to stop hiding his light, afraid someone will snatch it away from him. I also told him that his light is much like a butterfly in the fisted palm of a child. Squeeze too tight and the wings will be crushed and the butterfly will never take flight again; if the butterfly remains imprisoned too long, it will suffocate and die. Either way the light is extinguished. His response was that his butterfly had died long ago and there was no hope of it ever coming back. How sad is that? How tragic that he should think this way. It makes me wonder....what happened to him that he feels so defeated? He is like a shell of a man....a walking husk. I feel for him. I just want to wrap my arms around him and take away his pain, frustrations and fears. But that is not my job. I cannot fix him....I am not his savior. My purpose in his life has been fulfilled and now I must move on. I still love him fiercely. I think I always will. I'm okay with that.

Sleepless Night, Sleepless Mind Part 2

It seems that the more I change the more I stay the same. On Tuesday, September 18, 2007, just two days after the 3 month mark of my relationship, my boyfriend dumped me. I have mixed feelings about the break up. On the one hand, I understand why he did it, I really do. I deserved to be dumped for the shit I pulled...I really do. But on the other hand, don't people do dumb shit in relationships all the time? I wish I'd never done what I did. I wish I had trusted him. I wish I'd never confided in his backstabbing ass friend. I wish so many things.

It's September and my heart is broken for the second time this year. A part of me wishes I could blink out of existence. I wish I could stop crying. I wish my head and heart would stop hurting. I wish I could sleep.