He pretends... (Originally posted 12-19-05)

He pretends he doesn't love me but I know he does. I see right through his charade. He thinks about me so much he can't stand it. He says to me, "you make me sick, I can't stop thinking about you, I don't want you in my head." But in his head I remain. I gave him something other women couldn't: unconditional love. Or perhaps that's my ego speaking? He's a selfish bastard. He's judgmental, egotistical, self-absorbed, spoiled...so much like me. That's why we get along so well. I make him laugh. I make him feel like a man. But I also remind him that he's not nearly man enough. For that he despises me. He loves me and hates me. I find that amusing.

When I was lonely and needed a hug he came to me. It was almost 3 in the morning. I told him that sex was out of the question. Head, even more out of the question. I just needed to be held. He sounded disappointed but was still willing to come and hold me. I asked him if he'd ever had intimacy without sex. He said he'd had intimacy that led to sex. I found that amusing too. He is the only man that I have ever slept with on the first date. I swear I had no intention of doing that, I swear that on everything....but it happened. Here's how it happened......

Our first "date" was almost  a year ago. The late afternoon saw us at ESPN Zone downtown (Chicago). It was a bitterly cold day and The Hawk was screaming around buildings, tearing at our jackets, faces and hands. As we walked he kept his arms around me. He also made sure he walked on the outside...always. Such the perfect gentleman. He smelled HEAVENLY. He looked like 20,000 tons of temptation packed into a 5 foot 11 inch, 179 pound chocolate demi god's frame. Just...yummy. We got our table, ordered our refreshments and proceeded to watch the Colts rip some other team apart. How I love Peyton Manning. He is scientific with it. But I digress. During the course of the game I had 2 double Amaretto Stone Sours. They were horribly watered down so I didn't get buzzed...or did I? Perhaps that contributed to my loose behavior?

The details are kinda fuzzy here...I'm pretty sure he suggested that we go back to his place and watch another game. Since I was in no hurry to leave his presence, I agreed. We went back to his place and got comfy on the couch and that's when the Itis started to set in and I grew drowsy. I recall lying across his lap and I may even have dosed off. He has a huge, comfy, ultrasuede sectional sofa. He stroked my neck. God, his hand felt so good. Me on him, him stroking me, us on that couch, slightly dim lights, very warm...it felt slightly...cocoon-ish. Somehow, despite my semi-coma I became conscious enough to know that I needed to leave. The temptation that I'd felt earlier was back and pounding on my nerve endings, screeching in my loins and tweaking my nipples...something was going to jump off if I didn't dash through that door and quickly. So I jumped to my feet, startling him and stammering out excuses about it being late and me being tired. I needed to leave.

He looked disappointed but didn't try to dissuade me. I shrugged into my jacket as he walked out of the living room. I thought it odd that he wasn't going to walk me to the door but oh well. As I was about to make my way to the door he returned to the room with his hands behind his back and a smile decorating his beautiful lips. Damn, why must he look so good, I thought to myself. He told me he had a surprise for me. I had to close my eyes and touch one of his hands. Whichever hand I touched contained my surprise so I needed to choose wisely. This was fun. I picked the left and he gave me Mos Def's latest cd. From our many talks, he knew I'd been wanting it and I thought it sweet that he remembered. In the hand I hadn't chosen was Talib Qweli's latest. Awwww shucks. I still picked a good one though. I was so pleased that I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Why did I kiss him on the cheek? That scent, that hard body, that warmth....seduction at its finest. We looked into one another's eyes...I know it sounds cliche, but we did. I was enraptured...he was too. We couldn't look away and our lips  couldn't stay away. They met and from there it was over for me.........


He kept me up and going ALL NIGHT LONG...like that Mary Jane Girls song. Every time I tried to leave he'd pull me back for more. I didn't leave until late the next afternoon...even then he was hesitant to let me go. I didn't want to leave but I knew I should. And I did. From that day forward though, we were almost inseparable.







I've aroused myself by stirring up this pot of memories. I wonder if he'd come tonight if I called him? Probably not. He's vowed not to have sex with me ever again. He says I'm too distracting and it takes too long for him to recover. Truth is, he just can't handle me. Aside from all that...we're just friends. For now.

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.

Back to "Mr. Wonderful" (Originally posted 9-22-05)

For Real though, you are The Sweetest Thing I've ever known. I never should have gone off on you. I apologize. I was being selfish and impatient and inconsiderate. I acted impulsively. I know. I banished you but I wanted the exact opposite. I crave your presence...I mean truly crave it. When you're around, I breathe you. I'm addicted to you. I don't need to touch you...being able to absorb you with my eyes is enough. But touching you...touching you is exquisite; like a divine visit on each and every one of my ten digits. You make me hungry.

This may sound strange but...I kept all of the voicemails you've ever left me. When we fell out, I listened to them. Sometimes I smiled and laughed as I listened and other times listening to them made me sad. After our spat, I didn't think I'd ever talk you again. I just knew you hated me. But you don't. After weeks of no speaking, you made contact. I was shocked. You've missed me...maybe as much as I've missed you...maybe more. I laughed out loud. My heart beat rapidly in my chest and I felt a great weight lift. I immediately remembered that I'd I thrown your shirt in the garbage. I also deleted all your numbers (so I wouldn't weaken and call you). I kept your pictures though. I want to see you. I know you said we need to take baby steps, but baby, I would step off the end of the earth if I could just see your smile again.

I miss you. I think Dante sent you. A long time ago I asked him to send me someone who he thought would make me happy. You make me happy...when you're not pissing me off. You know I'm spoiled and you refuse to cater to me. That's aggravating, but I know you're only doing it because you want to help me evolve. I dreamt about you last night. We were lying in your bed talking. Your finger was teasing my lips...do you still love my lips? I still love yours. We talked about Germany and New York. We talked about your divorce and mine. We talked about the time we made out on the giant birthday cake at the sculpture park. I can't drive past that place without thinking about you. I touch myself and think of you. You are the only person that appreciates the softness of my skin more than I do. I miss the way you say my name. I miss your laugh. I miss your serious face. I miss your friendship...I miss that most of all. Soon...I hope that we can get together soon. Maybe dinner or just go for a walk. I just want to be in your presence. Soon.

Random Mental Ejaculate (Originally posted 7-9-05)

(Another piece composed for "O". Also recited at several open mics)
(By the way, that's "O" up there. Nice right?)




It's 8:56 P.M. and tonight is a night for random thoughts. I am thinking of Him. His voice....damn, I feel it touching me. Stroking me with almost fluid smoothness. It caresses the woman I am and the woman I wish to become. I want Him...all of Him. Not just His dick, but all of Him. I want His mind, spirit, emotions, regrets, fears, dreams, even His children's children. I want His body like I want my soul to be free. I want all He is and was...I want everything He ever will be. He is made up of things I wanted, received then cast away. He is made up of the past, present and future. Now that I am becoming what I am meant to be I can appreciate all that He is and will be. I have to be blatantly honest......I want to fuck Him mentally, spiritually, emotionally and physically. I want to get so deep inside of Him that we won't be able to tell where He ends and I begin. I want Him to do the same. I want Him hilt deep inside of me, exploring every crack, crease, crevice and corner of my being. I want to build something with Him. I want to plant seeds with Him and just sit back and watch them grow. I want Him to want me like I want Him. I want to breathe Him in and out 24-7-365. I want to share my world with Him. There's nothing I wouldn't do for Him or give to Him. When I think of Him clichés come to mind, shit like....He's so fly if I jumped off a 20 story building He could catch me in mid-air. And He's gonna have to catch me because I'm falling...for Him. My thoughts have been taken hostage by His presence and my mental meanderings begin and end with He and I becoming us. He is incredible; unforgettable...sonnets should be composed and dedicated to the rich blackness of His skin and hair. He is as close to perfection as I can imagine but as far from perfect as any man is. I cannot define Him...that would limit Him and His abilities. His fascination with my hips, lips and eyes cause rivulets of arousal to drip from between my thighs. He makes love to me with his words and croons impassioned tunes with His eyes. I feel His hands and know bliss. Even in my most fanciful conceptions I never knew it could be like this. Most times I cannot articulate the sentiments He inspires. It seems like everything I desire to say about Him has already been said. The words I want to use have been taken by someone else...uttered by strange deceitful lips so that now they're unfit when trying to describe what He is to me. The best I can do to relate His traits is play songs by Jill Scott and India Arie. But I must take a stab at it. He makes me dream dreams and think the impossible is possible damn it. He makes me want to simultaneously sink and float...fly sky high and get down and dirty. I want to suck His soul through His dick and let His essence dwell in me forever. Yes, I'm talking about tantric love and Kama Sutric sex. I want Him literally, figuratively, virtually and realistically. I just...I just....damn I just want to have Him, hold Him, get under His skin and make myself at home. I want us to be deeper than friends/lovers, higher than a husband/wife and truer than soul mates. I don't care about the haves and the have nots, the past disappointments or possible future failures...I just want Him. I want Him like I want to breathe my next breath of fresh air.



This is for my black aphrodisiac of a muse, his John Kerry-esque tendencies have me all confused....body of a god and fickle heart of a man, it's all I can stand to not shout his name from the rooftops and carve his heart encased name in trees. He has the kind of good stuff that makes me want to spend the rest of my life on my knees. If he says the word it's his exclusively.

Divine Speech (Originally posted July 9, 2005)

With my words...
I could speak your scent into existence
Invoke your presence and...
Dwell in your unspoken thoughts
Words, like milk and honey, dripped enticingly into your ear....
Barely audible but felt soul deep
That's Divine Speech

The Sermon (Originally posted July 9, 2005)

Midnight
I hear the rain and mouth your name
My full lips come to rest on the last syllable of the only heaven I know...
Your name
Behind my closed lids I invoke your image
Your smile has been seared into my subconscious
I contemplate the contours of your structure with my mind's eye
Your temple is sacred to me
I whisper my petitions along your holy halls and you gladly grant my requests....with fervor
I feel you...everywhere
My fingers become yours...
Exploring...
Delving into the dips and curves of my prone form
Who can appreciate me like you and I can?
You devour my giggles and grunts with equal relish
And afterwards...
We lay satiated on Egyptian cotton sheets outside under the knowing eyes of the universe...
We plot our lives in the constellations

Nothing Special (Denial) (Originally posted July 9, 2005)

You are nothing special
Though my heart races at the thought of you...
Though being in close proximity to you makes me weak...
You are nothing special
I am simultaneously attracted and repelled by you
Your voice pacifies me but your mild contempt for my views alienates me, riles me and inspires in me the need to debate until I'm blue in the face
But...you are nothing special
Though thoughts of you keep sleep at bay during the long nights...
Though we can speak on nothing at all for hours on end...
You are nothing special
Remembrances of you and how you touched me mind, body and spirit eradicate all others from my subconscious
You have seduced me senseless with your intellect...your very presence leaves me breathless
Still...
You are nothing special
I slept with my nose pressed into the sheets we fucked upon for two nights after your departure
The mattress was soaked through with our sweat
Our perspiration commingled with your cologne, my perfume and the musky funk of spilled cum made drifting off to sleep and dreams of you oh so sweet...
And yet, I continue to make claims that...
You are nothing special

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'm a fool...(Originally posted June 18, 2005)

So not only did I write this for "O", I also recited it at the open mic night I frequent. He was speechless when he finally heard it...


I'm sitting at my desk thinking about this love of mine/he's captured my heart and he stays on my mind/I wish I could find...a way to break free/he's mastering the art of enslaving me/too bad I can't develop some bravery....and just walk away/needless to say, I stay, his feelings are neither black or white....they're gray/he's unsure but I decided....I love him too much to try and hide it/I confided....in him, revealed my heart and spoke some words/he heard....but did he listen?/I hate when people don't pay attention/no wonder we women feel like we're in a competition....we compete with the agony of men's past failed relationships and emotional defeat/how can I convince him that I won't repeat.....the mistakes they made/why the hell is he so afraid?/didn't I prove I was different when I laid......my heart bare before him?/why must he he compare me to them?/I guess when you swim....with sharks often enough your exterior has to be tough/he needs to cut me some slack though because I've had enough/he’s playing tug-o-war with my affections/while he hides his from my detection/protection....from me is unnecessary/I know love can be scary....but scarier still is life lived in constant fear/I'm here.....so near he can reach out and touch me/I want to be his lifeline....when he feels like he's drowning he can reach out and clutch me/hell he doesn't have to pay all the time, he can go dutch with me/I have his back, I'll ride or die and be his RBG chick/I'll stick....with him through thick and thin/be there when he needs me again and again and again/his lover and his friend/his erection softener/I'll give it to him more often....than her.....and those and them/all the ones that didn't love him....the way he deserved/I've reserved....myself for him/though I could be with many others, my fire and desire rest in him/I'm my best with him....our vibe is so right....we can talk all night....not get any sleep...and still manage to be deep....I weep....at the thought of his lips on my shoulder blade/he is one of the most beautiful creatures God has ever made/his skin is as black as midnight skies/he induces my impassioned cries....when he thrusts his soul in between my thighs/his eyes....I could get lost in their depths.....but one more missed step, and he'll lose me forever/if he can't get it together I'll find someone better....

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.

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.