That text you never replied to

Dear you,

Remember that text you never replied to?
The one that helped me stay awake all night?
Wasn't it you who assured me that faith would never lead me astray?
Are you the person whose mobile device signifies if the message has been read?
Wasn't it you who questioned if I had a similar feature on my phone?

This little thing that you're doing, choosing when to respond and when to ignore me is bothersome.

Maybe you don't see the side effects.
Maybe you won't check your messages, but rather would find pictures to "like" and "comment" about.
Maybe this is your prerogative.
Maybe this is your idea of a happy medium.

But try to mitigate the foolishness because I didn't sign up for it.

Sincerely,

I chase men.

Chasing men = going after who you want

Love isn't traditional at all. Neither you nor I could travel in time and find it. We can't grab it and claim it ours. It must be created in our eyes - in the mind, body and soul. My kind of love doesn't reflect a place where the home is furnished with the hands of a woman and the beard of a man, who comes in and settles ever down for bread and meat. It isn't built on two children (one of each gender) and a baby dog named Flip. I don't know of the place where my home will resemble in time, but I do know this. It won't be built out of greed and vanity. So this is a hard pill to swallow for me. Throughout this journey, I thought I would be chased by a man. I thought I would be fondled and caressed every second. How would I have known that it would be about missed trips, unspoken words, the dial tone, the answering machine, the good morning/night text messages, the 'I spy' saga, the love poems that were never sent. The most baffling part of it is that I slightly enjoy the chase. I don't mind the chasing. I do mind the places where I travel alone, where I leave with confusion and wander. My kind of love might resemble a place where the home is furnished with the hands of the man, and the women is getting served with bread and sweets. It might resemble quiet nights and those bursts of laughter whenever I decide to become a woman. There is no longer a man around who could "man up." Those days are casket(ed) away. It is time for me to ask for the dates. It's time to pay for my own lunches when you are miles away and unable to lay out food on the table. When you hold the door open, I will stop midway and wait for you to swoon me. It's time to begin to cook on occasion. It is time to stop dreaming about you. You won't chase me, you won't seek chasing. It's time to go after all the men who don't want to be chased.

"Chase you? I don't even chase my liquor." - Famous black girl line

When Life Gives you B.S.

I have a problem. With expectations.  People always say don't go into any situation with expectations about how things will go, or how you want a man to act or treat you.  If you don't expect anything you won't get hurt.

Well I think that's bullshit.

I've done both, expected prince charming to walk through my door, be as considerate as ever, with flowers in his hand and compliments on his lips.  Disappointed.  I've also not expected things to go good or bad, not expected the door to be opened for me or to ever meet his mother.  Disappointed.

I think the problem lies in the fact that as you get to know someone, no matter how you go into things, you learn their behavior, and base your expectations on that.  If he acts nice and goes out of his way for you, treats you well enough for him to meet your family, and always pay for dinner, you begin to expect that all around.  But then he says he's not ready for a relationship....

I forget what I'm getting at (wayyy too pms right now) but the point is expectations always screw you over.  If he acts like a gentleman and acts like he wants to be with you, chances are he wants to play the game but can't commit (for one reason or another).  If he treats you terribly and doesn't give a rats butt about your feelings, chances are you'll be better off dropping his ugly behind off at the nearest bus stop.


Main point here: I have a MAJOR problem with guys who are all nice but not ready for a relationship.  DON'T involve my feelings if you have no intention of returning them.  DON'T treat me well and do all the right things if you're not sure that this will go anywhere.  Just don't.

END OF RANT.

Declaration for Being a Virgin at 22.

When harmony and the soul come together, it manifests to this. 

Love, A. 

Trying

It's hard to break down my feelings for you.  I tried today, to think about how you caress me, how it feels when your lips touch mine, but I couldn't get deep.  I hate to say it but I've gone through this too many times before.  Times where our passion was like a maze, neverending,  his heart a book whose pages I couldn't wait to turn, our story one worth finishing.

I hate to say it but I've gone through this too many times before. 

I think that's why on a normal day I give you less credit than you deserve.  On a normal day I don't daydream about my hands running over your washboard abs or the clean cotton smell of your neck.  On a normal day I invite you to hang out and if you say no I'm not bothered.

I want you to do something, say something, to separate yourself from the rest.  Make an imprint in my mind, my heart, so I know its real, true and forever.  I want to know that these memories I have, the way you make me feel isn't a dime a dozen.  Meeting my siblings wasn't a mistake and being on speakerphone with my aunt wasn't too rushed. 

I feel what I feel and I love what I love, but I want you to make me feel and love for a reason.  Capture my heart, for a reason.



Love me.

Reasons why...

Sometimes I feel like my life is a list of excuses.  Why I'm not smart enough or strong enough or fast enough to reach my goals.  Lately I've been feeling like that applies to my love life as well.  Why I deserve to be with someone or can get hit on my a million guys but never get a title or why it's so easy for me to give up my wants when I'm in love, yet I can't give myself that same devotion.

I was at my girlfriends house the other day listening to music when she pulled up Tori Kelly's r&b/pop ballad "Dear No One."  I'm not one for run-of-the-mill love songs or the latest grind on me, whine on me verbal porn stuff, so this song struck me as she sang "So if you’re out there I swear to be good to you, But I’m done lookin’, for my future someone. Cause when the time is right you’ll be here, but for now dear no one, this is your love song."

My heart swelled. 

In this new year, 2014, I know I'm meant to learn from 2013 mistakes and make myself a priority, but most of all I think I'm meant to learn that IT'S OK, to not be in love, lust or like with anyone.  To use that same selfless ferver I apply in relationships to myself.  To be selfish for once.  To keep researching travel programs where I can Spanish and be too busy to text first and go out with my girlfriends and leave my phone at home.

It's time I stop making excuses for reasons why I should be with someone, and start making excuses why I have a lot more living to do before I should.

Before I've Had My Tea this Morning

I turned off the lights seconds ago. This is where I begin to bring truth to the situation. I'm not a coward and don't intend to be for the next hundred years. I know I have bruises - a sore in my side - that signals self-inflicted pain. I know that I put my foot in my mouth half of the time and there's too much unsung songs waiting for your name to be written all over it. Also I'm aware the circumstances might change after seeing you. Finally. An overdue meeting between two beautiful people.

I've spent the last year filling myself up with love. It's been moons since I felt the sun in my bones. I want to show it to another person and I want him to be you. This secret parallels to a 3-year-old child in my heart, though it's been about six months. Six months ago I connected with you. It reminds me of a quote I came across that said 'I love you because the universe conspired us to meet' or something like that. I want to reach out and grab you, shake you and tell you that I'm available at your earliest convenience. I need you to know how I feel for you. I'm great at hiding my thoughts and leaving them to rush over my head during these pen bleeding sessions.

There's a sharp emptiness in my stomach that I feel when looking at your photo. My eyes fall to your yours. Oh the way it slants and stretches. It stretches as wide as your smile. It's a photo that I'm resenting to see in the mornings, when I am likely to receive a digitized message from you. I'd rather be laying in bed with you. My eyes fixated on yours. Our chins brushing against one another - I've got a few hairs that won't scare you. Promise. I want to hold up signs in the streets for you. I want to bring you home and have you exchange words with my parents. And I will remember every second of it. I could easily fall in love with you today, but I would favor having your friendship before we set it off.

I want to feel whole with you.