She kept Rihanna’s “Te Amo” on repeat that day because she liked the way the pain of the song mirrored hers.
She quietly recalled how she never thought she would feel this way
And then the moment came and they sat together in the same space
He stared at the floor
She looked to the ceiling
Heart beating
Mind racing
Tears threatening
As she tried to organize her thoughts
Didn’t want to say the wrong thing
Or relay the wrong message
Her lips parted and before she could stop them
The words came
“I think I love you.”
It happened too fast
It was too late to do anything about it
And she didn’t want to anyway
So she just continued
The words came fast, now.
“I’m sorry. To complicate things. But would that make a difference? I think I love you.”
Her eyes landed on him, that look that makes him say, “please don’t look at me like that…”
But he didn’t say it this time
His eyes meet hers and they promise a lifetime of everything she’s ever wished and hoped and dreamed
Silence
His arms find her
She sinks into his heartbeat
His lips touch her forehead and pause
He holds her forever
And it’s over before it ever had a chance to begin
*This is not exactly how it happened. I never said those words. I said other things. But now I'm not sure I shouldn't have said it. Today I wonder if it would have changed the ending. It might have been the one thing that could have saved Us.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
062210
We are done and I don't feel like myself anymore. Not only because we are done but it was 4 years and I've changed and I think he did too and I wouldn't put up with the stuff I used to think I could have for the rest of my life. Nevertheless. He was the one to finally break it off. Saying things to hurt me intentionally to make me go but that he still loved me and why do I still believe that shit? And I can't make it better this time no matter how many self help books I read or yoga classes or minutes on the elliptical machine or calories burned or just sitting quietly with incense and fountain and maxwell's suite theme or pandora's spa radio. The lake doesn't help like it used to I can't leave my problems emotions hurt anger there it just clings to me leaving a dull ache in everything I do. Unsettled. I haven't cried near as much this time as I used to I think he broke us a year ago when he told me about her so I never should have kept trying but I'm a leo fiercely loyal and that's what we do. Sometimes its good. So cliche but my heart feels like it was ripped out of my body along with the ability to experience interest in anything I used to. I can't get to the happy place he used to provide. They don't come as often but they do still come the reminders that we won't ever share anything ever again are relentless and it. Just. Fucking. Sucks. How could you throw this away I ask him over and over in my mind and I ask myself how could you let this happen to you? You used to be strong independent passionate optimistic so glass half full. And now its just too hard to get out of bed no inspiration motivation's gone and I just wonder what will ever? Make it better. Because those things that used to provide solace don't. Anymore. When they ask me about us or him I try to be as brief and positive as possible when I say its over for good this time and there's sympathy in their voice when they say you'll find someone and I think I don't want to or maybe its I don't think I will. But I smile politely and nod my head like I'm supposed to and they eventually walk away or we hang up and the smile just quietly disappears and I'm left alone. Again. Not lonely but alone and there is a difference. But I man up anyway and go through lifes motions to make the paycheck(s) that pay the car note on the car that allows me to go to the job(s) that allow me to pay the car note. And I do it all. Alone. I think I'm almost done. With this chapter. Or. Maybe I need a new book a whole new fucking volume. Either way. Next.
Friday, June 26, 2009
A lesson from Twitter.
I haven't posted on this thing in over two years. Today though, I really felt the need to write, so here I go. Maybe I'll feel compelled to write more often, maybe I just need to get it out.
The past week or so has been a tragic whirlwind of death and violence in the world. World violence, nuclear threats, the death of three icons. RIP Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson. Just devastating news. But there is one event in particular that hurts my heart the most. I don't know why it hit me so hard, I don't even know the person that passed away; his girl, his family or his circle. With the onslaught of social media such as facebook, linkedin, and twitter though, anyone can feel like they know someone without ever having even been in their presence. I check twitter regularly...its addictive but also a very entertaining instrument, especially when you're bored. As I recently learned, it can be eerily real. Let me explain.
In addition to following my friends on twitter, I also follow certain "local celebs" such as radio hosts, promoters, phx venues, and spoken word artists. It's a great way to stay in the know. Along with that comes interestingness in the form of people's lives. The other night, a particular tweet caught my attention:
"The world lost a great one today. @grexperience Garrett W. Robinson. 4/5/83-6/20/09. I miss him & I loved him so much. Please pray for us!"
So many were tweeting about him. I went to @grexperience's page. He had protected his tweets, but had a link to his blog. I was curious, but for reasons completely unknown to me. I would later find out that he was a 27 year old hennessey promoter who lost his life in a car accident at 3:30 a.m. Saturday morning, shortly after having tweeted the following:
"I'm on bottle 5 where are you at? Hennessy Black is the drink where are you at???"
I don't know why, but I requested to follow who I realized was his girlfriend or wife. She is a publicist, so I probably would have ended up following her eventually anyway. I noticed a tweet from her today, which means she approved me to follow her. Tonight while sitting here watching the E! channel play endless clips of people loitering outside Michael Jackson's house, I jumped on twitter to see what was going on with folks. When I read her tweet, I just broke down.
"Scared awake at 5:45am. Dozed off while packing. Where in the hell is he?? *worried sick* =oX"
6:19 AM Jun 20th from web
For you to fully understand this, I need to explain that recently I went through my own loss of sorts. And while I knew deep down that it wouldn't last, I was still heartbroken. But I never lost faith and there was still never a time when I honestly thought we wouldn't still end up together. I look back at some of my posts on this blog and realize just how much he and I have been through, and I'm glad I picked up my blackberry and text'd him that night that I loved him still. Having read that tweet about @grexperience passing away, it was just something I needed him to know. Tonight, the tweet from @grexperience's girl passionately resonates with me. I thought, "What if I lost him for real? God, what would I do?" And I just sit here with real tears running down my face as I think of the two car accidents he's been in; I was his girl when the second one occured and I went and picked him up from it...airbags deployed, whole front end of the car gone. In both accidents the vehicles were totaled, neither of them were his fault. I just can't stop crying. I hope she will be okay. How do you go on living when your heart dies?
After I text'd him that night, he text'd me back that he loved me too. Yesterday I told him the twitter story. We had lunch today. I feel like there's no words to express my feelings for him. I just ask God to please make sure he knows. That's all I can do.
RIP Garrett W. Robinson. I did not know you, but you taught me an invaluable lesson.
The past week or so has been a tragic whirlwind of death and violence in the world. World violence, nuclear threats, the death of three icons. RIP Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson. Just devastating news. But there is one event in particular that hurts my heart the most. I don't know why it hit me so hard, I don't even know the person that passed away; his girl, his family or his circle. With the onslaught of social media such as facebook, linkedin, and twitter though, anyone can feel like they know someone without ever having even been in their presence. I check twitter regularly...its addictive but also a very entertaining instrument, especially when you're bored. As I recently learned, it can be eerily real. Let me explain.
In addition to following my friends on twitter, I also follow certain "local celebs" such as radio hosts, promoters, phx venues, and spoken word artists. It's a great way to stay in the know. Along with that comes interestingness in the form of people's lives. The other night, a particular tweet caught my attention:
"The world lost a great one today. @grexperience Garrett W. Robinson. 4/5/83-6/20/09. I miss him & I loved him so much. Please pray for us!"
So many were tweeting about him. I went to @grexperience's page. He had protected his tweets, but had a link to his blog. I was curious, but for reasons completely unknown to me. I would later find out that he was a 27 year old hennessey promoter who lost his life in a car accident at 3:30 a.m. Saturday morning, shortly after having tweeted the following:
"I'm on bottle 5 where are you at? Hennessy Black is the drink where are you at???"
I don't know why, but I requested to follow who I realized was his girlfriend or wife. She is a publicist, so I probably would have ended up following her eventually anyway. I noticed a tweet from her today, which means she approved me to follow her. Tonight while sitting here watching the E! channel play endless clips of people loitering outside Michael Jackson's house, I jumped on twitter to see what was going on with folks. When I read her tweet, I just broke down.
"Scared awake at 5:45am. Dozed off while packing. Where in the hell is he?? *worried sick* =oX"
6:19 AM Jun 20th from web
For you to fully understand this, I need to explain that recently I went through my own loss of sorts. And while I knew deep down that it wouldn't last, I was still heartbroken. But I never lost faith and there was still never a time when I honestly thought we wouldn't still end up together. I look back at some of my posts on this blog and realize just how much he and I have been through, and I'm glad I picked up my blackberry and text'd him that night that I loved him still. Having read that tweet about @grexperience passing away, it was just something I needed him to know. Tonight, the tweet from @grexperience's girl passionately resonates with me. I thought, "What if I lost him for real? God, what would I do?" And I just sit here with real tears running down my face as I think of the two car accidents he's been in; I was his girl when the second one occured and I went and picked him up from it...airbags deployed, whole front end of the car gone. In both accidents the vehicles were totaled, neither of them were his fault. I just can't stop crying. I hope she will be okay. How do you go on living when your heart dies?
After I text'd him that night, he text'd me back that he loved me too. Yesterday I told him the twitter story. We had lunch today. I feel like there's no words to express my feelings for him. I just ask God to please make sure he knows. That's all I can do.
RIP Garrett W. Robinson. I did not know you, but you taught me an invaluable lesson.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Growing up is funny...
I want to blog everyday. I just...well. I am a procrastinator, and I'm lazy. Not a great combination. But I'm thinking that 1)since summer is here, and I don't have to worry about school now, AND 2)I got a spiffy new laptop so I can blog here there and anywhere, maybe I can bring myself to do it more frequently. Baby steps, people. You might not hear from me every day...but I will do my best. Okay, having said that...
I looked at the home of my blog, and then I changed the title. Funny how swapping out one little 4-letter word can change everything.
I had a home visit with one of the residents in my program yesterday. As much as I despise leaving the office and going into other people's homes to see if they are successfully living independently (Did you do this? That? Did you poo today? Ok, maybe not that extreme but you get the point. Although I do have some stories...) Anyway, this particular resident is in the permanent housing assistance program, which means he is pretty stable and we meet at most once per month. He is an older black gentleman with long dreadlocks, whom I was "warned against" when I began working this job. "He can be nasty" they said, "when he doesn't get what he wants." Later I found that all he wants is for people to stop being ignorant. Hey, me too.
I've noticed recently that each time I speak with this man, I feel a little bit wiser. So I sit with him yesterday, surrounded by National Geographic pictures and newspaper clippings of worldly events and we talk about how in one's early twenties, we feel as though we know everything there is to know in the whole world. I tell him that I am now 30 and I feel like I know nothing about nothing. I tell him I feel like there is so much I want to know, so much I need to learn, that sometimes I feel overwhelmed. He assures me that I am in the "information-gathering age" and once I hit late 30's to early 40's, I will start to know what to do with all the information. He calls this the "information-processing age". He tells me that young people don't know where to to put the information, that once we become older and a little more enlightened, we have many places in which to distribute this knowledge. I smile, partly because I feel like he understands, and partly because according to him one day I will not feel so random. He smiles back and calls me bright.
In the short hour I met with him, we managed to knock out topics such as Buddhism and Imus. He has an interesting perspective regarding the latter. He said that he is writing an article about how he feels that women are to blame for the lyrics in rap and the degradation that happens to women on a daily basis. In my head I'm thinking, -wait, what? But I give him a chance, hear what he has to say to back this up. He asks me if I remember that Smokey Robinson song, "You Better Shop Around". I say, Motown? Of course! But I don't recall the exact lyrics... He recites a few lines, then explains how the mother in the song is telling the son not to just fall for any "dime a dozen" pretty girl. He goes on to say how females, including mothers, routinely talk shit about their other females. He says how it's been going on for years, and as more and more sons grow up without fathers present, they learn their "fox in the henhouse" (read: shady) behaviors from their mothers. And it occurs to me, he's got a point here. I have heard more females talk trash about other females than males do on any given day. Women are bitches. We can be incredibly possessive, dramatic, vindictive...need I go on? Not all of us use our powers for evil. But those who do should be wary of influencing young minds - especially the ones they create.
We went on to talk about America's fucked up materialistic priorities, and then we called it a day. Well, we called it a visit and I went back to the office. But not before I felt (a tiny bit) wiser.
I looked at the home of my blog, and then I changed the title. Funny how swapping out one little 4-letter word can change everything.
I had a home visit with one of the residents in my program yesterday. As much as I despise leaving the office and going into other people's homes to see if they are successfully living independently (Did you do this? That? Did you poo today? Ok, maybe not that extreme but you get the point. Although I do have some stories...) Anyway, this particular resident is in the permanent housing assistance program, which means he is pretty stable and we meet at most once per month. He is an older black gentleman with long dreadlocks, whom I was "warned against" when I began working this job. "He can be nasty" they said, "when he doesn't get what he wants." Later I found that all he wants is for people to stop being ignorant. Hey, me too.
I've noticed recently that each time I speak with this man, I feel a little bit wiser. So I sit with him yesterday, surrounded by National Geographic pictures and newspaper clippings of worldly events and we talk about how in one's early twenties, we feel as though we know everything there is to know in the whole world. I tell him that I am now 30 and I feel like I know nothing about nothing. I tell him I feel like there is so much I want to know, so much I need to learn, that sometimes I feel overwhelmed. He assures me that I am in the "information-gathering age" and once I hit late 30's to early 40's, I will start to know what to do with all the information. He calls this the "information-processing age". He tells me that young people don't know where to to put the information, that once we become older and a little more enlightened, we have many places in which to distribute this knowledge. I smile, partly because I feel like he understands, and partly because according to him one day I will not feel so random. He smiles back and calls me bright.
In the short hour I met with him, we managed to knock out topics such as Buddhism and Imus. He has an interesting perspective regarding the latter. He said that he is writing an article about how he feels that women are to blame for the lyrics in rap and the degradation that happens to women on a daily basis. In my head I'm thinking, -wait, what? But I give him a chance, hear what he has to say to back this up. He asks me if I remember that Smokey Robinson song, "You Better Shop Around". I say, Motown? Of course! But I don't recall the exact lyrics... He recites a few lines, then explains how the mother in the song is telling the son not to just fall for any "dime a dozen" pretty girl. He goes on to say how females, including mothers, routinely talk shit about their other females. He says how it's been going on for years, and as more and more sons grow up without fathers present, they learn their "fox in the henhouse" (read: shady) behaviors from their mothers. And it occurs to me, he's got a point here. I have heard more females talk trash about other females than males do on any given day. Women are bitches. We can be incredibly possessive, dramatic, vindictive...need I go on? Not all of us use our powers for evil. But those who do should be wary of influencing young minds - especially the ones they create.
We went on to talk about America's fucked up materialistic priorities, and then we called it a day. Well, we called it a visit and I went back to the office. But not before I felt (a tiny bit) wiser.
Monday, March 19, 2007
*yay*
I'm back yo! I didn't fall off, I just couldn't effing log on forever because I guess I must've forgotten what password I used.
Anyway, so, I'm back. How happy are you??
And! I have a lot to say. But not now, because today was my last day of vacation, and in the morning I have to go back to the hole. Also known as my job. Sucky.
So how's everyone been? Talk to me, kids. It's been too long.
ps: I never got the new Guccis. But I did get a darling pair of Chanels and we are very happy together, thanks for asking.
Anyway, so, I'm back. How happy are you??
And! I have a lot to say. But not now, because today was my last day of vacation, and in the morning I have to go back to the hole. Also known as my job. Sucky.
So how's everyone been? Talk to me, kids. It's been too long.
ps: I never got the new Guccis. But I did get a darling pair of Chanels and we are very happy together, thanks for asking.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
Death by Football.
I think football might kill me.Mind you, it's really not that I hate the game itself. What it is, is that the man with whom I am ridiculously, completely sprung used to play. No, I never got to actually watch him. I only have this picture....oh. This one picture. A professional, full-on action shot of him carrying the ball down the field. *Not the one pictured above.
Football was also our first real date. On Saturday, October 8, 2005, he took me to a college game (his alma mater vs. my hometown). It was, hands down, the best weekend I have ever had. Now, flipping through the channels and accidently landing on SportsCenter sends me into an emotional meltdown. And Jesus, don't let the sportscaster guy mention the team he used to play for. Memories of the team's mascott tattooed on his (nicely toned) arm makes me want to stay glued to the couch watching reruns of Sex in the City and never, ever come out of the house.
Safeway delivers, right?
Don't get me wrong, it was never about that with him. It was the way we instantly clicked, like, we were just so perfect together I swear it was meant to be. We used to talk about everything, and of course that was and still is a significant part of his life, so we talked about it often. But it was never about that. He could've been a garbage collector and I'd feel the same way.
And now, I feel like I might die from us not working out and me having not talked to him for weeks. We always said that we would stay close but it didn't work out that way (I guess it never does). And everything reminds me of him.
I know everyone has been through this before. I know this because 'everyone' has told me this. But none of the 50 million stories I've heard from my girls or my boys or random compassionate strangers are anywhere close to being remotely comforting. I love them for trying, though.
I don't know what to do. I have never been in this situation before. Usually, when the bs starts I quickly bow out, and its more than easy to find another who can at least keep me entertained for a minute. Does that sound shitty? Well, I really don't give a furry rat's ass. Guys do that shit all the time. Yet, regardless of my efforts, I absolutely cannot make that work in this situation.
He pretty much maintains that it's my fault that we are not together. But, if you knew the whole story you would disagree - I promise. I'm not getting into it here.
But I promise.
It was just so destructive. I knew it from like the first 30 seconds. But I just. Couldn't. Stop it from happening.
I even wrote a poem about it. I might let you read it later.
What do you do when you feel like you'll never connect the same way with anyone, ever ever again? This heartbreak shit is for the birds. How come I can't just shake it off like Mariah Carey? Seriously, even buying the coveted-for-months Gucci sunglasses (on sale) is not going to help. *Trust me, I've purchased more than a few I-fucking-miss-him articles. Of course, I'm getting them anyway.
What? I need to look hot when I go back home in January. You would do the same thing.
I suppose I'm just sort of getting it off my chest a little tonight. I guess it's really not football that I hate...it's everything that reminds me of him. Especially that "Girl Tonight" song. Jesus God, what is it with music? There are like a million songs I can't even listen to anymore. Or scents. Angel for men makes me want to bawl.
Love is some straight bullshit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
