7 of 30

I recently accepted a challenge created by one of my twitter friends called 30 in 30. The idea is to write/post a new poem every day for 30 days. This promises to be very interesting for me seeing as how I've been going through some personal struggles as of late. At any rate, here's my seventh offering...

The Time Machine

Small device with an illuminated button face

It took me back back back

It vibrated and his picture showed up

I hit the green button and his voice transported me

We've not spoken in a while

Usually, I don't care

Today was different

His voice to my nerves...

Like Mozart's fingers on keys

And only because right now...I'm feeling lonely

Feeling neglected

Feeling horny

But the path to him is brambled and thorny

Pain and shame lie in wait

Ready to accost me

He would cost me my self-respect

So, I check the clock

Make small talk

And leave the reverie right where it belongs

Something in the past

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.

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.

He gave me the shirt off his back...literally (Originally posted 8-19-05)

He showed up a few hours late and I was pissed. Our time was already short, but because of his tardiness, it was shorter still. My anger partially melted when I opened the door and saw him standing before me with unease knotting his shoulders and sadness etched into his face. He apologized over and over and over again. I played tough cookie and was mildly disinterested in his apologies or sorrow. I was callous but cordial when I invited him in...I wanted him to feel guilty as sin, but secretly, I was so happy to see him. I haven't seen him in almost a month I think. We stood facing each other. Me: stoically silent; him: fidgety and mournful. Since the only air conditioned room in my house is my bedroom, and since the rest of the house is 30 degrees hotter than satan's ass canal, I invited him to the boudoir.

We entered and again stood facing each other. He continued to apologize and took my hands in his, softly caressing my skin. At one point his voice broke and then the tough cookie crumbled. I hemmed and hawed as long as I could, I swear I did! I made him sweat a bit, but shamefully, I didn't last long. I smiled and told him I would forgive him...if he would forgive and forget my past transgressions. He didn't want to...but he did. With all that past we finally embraced.

Ohhhh it was sooo good, so right, so much better than nice...it was perfect. I put my ear to his chest and focused on the rhythm of his heart. At that moment it was beating for me. He held me forever...or so it seemed. Tired of standing, he led me to the bed and sat me on his lap. He hugged me so deep my breath stopped. He touched my lips with his, whispered apologies in my ear and continued to ask my forgiveness. I cannot refuse him. In that moment, I would have given him my spare kidney if he'd asked for it. Then we lay together on the bed and kissed, whispered and enjoyed what little time we had left before he had to go to the airport. I apologized for my past selfish and distant behavior and he forgave me. I nuzzled his neck in an attempt to inhale and forever capture his scent. Not satisfied, I asked if he would give me the shirt off of his back...and he commenced to removing his shirts. He offered both but I only took one...the undershirt; because it was closer to his skin. I inhaled deeply the scent of him. I love the way he smells. He smells like the middle of Spring, the first day of summer, soft June breezes, thunderstorms, the birds singing at dawn, that first spoonful of strawberry sorbet, the laughter of children, the waves lapping at the shore, my favorite jeans, freshly mown grass, the leaves changing colors in Autumn, the first time I recited a poem before a large crowd....he smells like all my many favorite things wrapped up in one aroma. I want to wake up to his scent, fall asleep to his scent, dream about his scent, wrap his scent around my shoulders-breathe-soul deep and never ever lose his scent.


He is getting to me, and I didn't think I could get got again. His smile melts me. He looks so innocent. But he ain't. He's a Scorpio. He studies Tantra and the Kama Sutra. He studies me too. Intently...so intently it makes me fidget and inquire about his thoughts. His answer varies but he usually says something like..."I'm thinking about how wonderful you are", "I'm thinking about how soft your skin is", "I'm thinking about how beautiful you are", etc. But I digress, I kissed his exposed flesh and paid reverence to his imperfect perfection. I was rewarded by his sharp intake of breath and his beautiful voice murmuring my name. He made it sound like a prayer. I enjoy our intimacy without sex. I love our mind sex. I cannot stop thinking about him. He makes me grin big foolish grins. He makes me want to skip and hum nonsense ditties. I feel like a school girl with her first crush, *giggles*

All too soon he had to leave. I missed him before we made it to the front door. I told him so and he didn't want to leave. He didn't leave...right away anyway. He was over a half hour late getting to the airport. After he finally left he called me from the car and we talked as he drove. He promised that we would see each other on Monday. That's an eternity away...but I can make it. He called me several times; his voice gentle each time. I told him he makes me want to be a good girl...as in discontinuing my playgirl ways. He told me there was a time when he thought I cared nothing for him, he thought he was just one of many...lowest man on the totem pole at that. I told him he was my number one draft pick...he didn't find that funny. I confided that I did care for him, deeply in fact. I told him that's one thing he'll never have to question. He caught me off guard when he asked what he should question then. I had to think for a moment. Should he question me? Do I want him to question me? Why would he question me? I emphatically answered that there is nothing in me he should question. He replied, "good". Our conversation ended when he reached the airport to retrieve his cousin. Yes, he was over a half hour late picking his cousin up. But he said it was worth it to spend time with me. I felt bad for his cousin but cheered for me. He called me a little while later to tell me he and his cousin were going to go out on the town and that he would talk to me again soon. Soon won't come soon enough. They're driving to Detroit in a few hours and I won't see him again until Monday. So tonight I will sleep in his shirt remembering how his skin felt against my lips, remembering the cadence of his voice as we conversed...inhaling deeply his scent that smells of all my many favorite things. He gave me the shirt off his back...next I'll ask for his heart.

Hi, my name is...(Originally posted 7-18-05)

My name is Nicki and I have a problem. It is called Approachingdirtythirtyitis Syndrome. Symptoms include but are not limited to:

Highly overactive libido

Increased dermal sensitivity

Perpertual state of arousal

Heavy breathing

Ravenous sexual appetite

Howling at the moon

Constant self-pleasuring (when not involved in a committed relationship)

Continuous sexual fantasizing

Relentless male crotch watching

Unremitting lip licking

Persistent come hither looks directed at appropriate male population

Etc.



There is no cure, but regular sexual intercourse (regualr being 1-2 times a day everyday) may control some of these symptoms. To learn more about Approachingdirtythirtyitis Syndrome or to make charitable contributions to the Approachingdirtythirtyitis Syndrome Foundation, please contact approachingdirtythirtyitissyndrome.org. Your time, contributions and cooperation are greatly appreciated.

;-)

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.

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.