Unfiltered Thoughts

Human relations are messy AF! It's volatile feelings and filtered intentions, it's seeing the past in the present, projecting and it's trying being present in the here and now. So here's the thing I believe about relating, you need to have some kind of chemistry to connect. There must be some base level of attraction, something must draw you to the person. I can tell you why I love each and every one of my friends, every single one. We have a spark, a connection.  Some of my friends are male and some of these male friends have girlfriends, and apparently there in lies the problem. The last time I had to deal with my guy friend's girlfriend's drama, I was ready to walk away, but he wisely told me that if i'm going to make her insecurities mine, that's on me, he hasn't taken them on, it's up to me what I do with it. He set clear boundaries and made very clear the roles we both play in his life. He married her, and I was his witness when we wen...

I spent this morning thinking about all the people I can't seem to let go of. The ones I need to cut off, people I no longer speak to on a regular basis but am still hung up on and that one guy I've reconciled that I'll always love. My soul is like a graveyard of dead relationships, people long gone. I spent the better part of this evening looking a pictures of an almost love, figured it's time to burn this bridge but I can't, I feel physically ill now. I'm nauseous, my chest hurts, I can't seem to let go off the skeletons of what could've been. I keep thinking, I don't want it, not in this form, certainly not any time soon, still I'm incapable of thoughts of closure.  The Script's good in goodbye  reduces me to tears every single time I get in my feelings.  No matter how it falls apart There's an "art" in breaking hearts But there's no fair in farewell I haven't learned how to let go yet, so I'm goin...

I found myself in the words she wrote I saw myself in her revelations I read about my past in her art I saw my future in her musings The way she made me feel She made me feel things The struggles of a black woman The fight to self, to love self To be herself, myself. The warpath she blazed against misogyny The quiet steady trail she paved to love She made me feel things Deep things Her rant against God How can I believe in a God, who doesn’t believe in me? The fight to believe, a bloodbath for her faith I saw me in her I saw her in me We are one The things she made me feel Deep things She carved out my soul She told the world our story Held it up as a light for our sisters to follow This dark, dreary road Why? I wonder… Her fight for the love of a man She lost the battles; will she win the war? She craves love, longs to be held Yet she fights, she tires me Settle down THEY whisper You’ll be easier to love She fights, I fight! Come she beacons Fol...

 I spent last week reconciling myself to the fact that I'm the bitch who broke his heart and he's the one I let get away. It was hard to come to terms with but I had to face facts, I still love him, deeply and truly. I shared this revelation with some of my friends and they said they knew. I spend this week wrestling with the fact that I want him, badly.  I can't have him, he's with someone he loves deeply and he appears to be content. I would never do anything to jeopardise his happiness, I hurt him once, I'd never deliberately do anything to hurt him again. I'm steering well clear of him. He is everything I pictured I wanted growing up. He was the embodiment of my day dreams and fantasies. By the second date, I knew he was the man I wanted to marry, he's the only man I've ever thought of marrying.  I thought that man did not exist.  He was and is not perfect, but I believe he was perfect for me. The stuff that annoyed me about him, I merely shrugge...

I was sitting at Kramer’s last night with my Aunt Caroline disapprovingly watching her eat her waffles and a scoop of rum and raisin flavoured ice cream.  One, she has the flu and two; it is the middle of winter! I was having the reasonable thing, having hot chocolate. As we discussed her match on mingle2, it hit me; I’ve never met anyone as deliriously beautiful as she is.  She has stars in her eyes when she talks about her “future husband”; listening to her talk you’d think she’s never been hurt in love. The pure unadulterated optimism for life and the joy in her voice is intoxicating.  I want to be as young and free as the woman sitting across from me; twenty years my senior and divorced. Her ex-husband was an abusive alcoholic and the divorce was messy, after 9 years of marriage, she walked away. In contrast I’ve been single for a full year since the end of May, after a 2 year relationship and I’ve got three years of unrequited love under my belt. I’ve been c...