My first love...

I come from a two parent household. Two siblings. An older sister and brother. I am the youngest. My mother is a strong, independent, college-educated woman. She worked as a social worker for many years. Mommy comes from a single parent household with a lot of siblings. My father is a strong, dominant man. He believed the man was the head of his household and that's how he ran his house. My father comes from a two parent household as well, although, my grandmother died when he was 11. In my father's family, the boys took care of the girls. Each boy was assigned a sister to look after and that philosophy holds true today. My father is military. He went to the Army at the age of 18 and retired when he was in his 40s. His military career was exemplary and he left the service with many medals and awards. The running joke in our family is my father is the original Forest Gump. He saved his entire battalion while taking bullets...(not in the but-tocks though lol). My father raised me to be independent and not to depend on a man but divorced my mother for the very same reason. She wasn't dependent enough. I heard my parents argue one time during their entire marriage of 23 years. My father is a beautiful man. He is tall.6'3. Chocolate. Slim.  I wish I could say, I always felt this way about him but I didn't. My father was a strict disciplinarian. We would be put on punishment for the slightest thing. Not listening. Not coming in on time. Dishes not being washed. I remember when I got in trouble becuz I left the house early one week day and hung out w/my then boyfriend all day and turned his neckbones off..  How was I supposed to know they were to cook all day and he was depending on that meal when he got off work? Silly me. I had to stay in the house for two weeks after that... I was HOT! Shoo, it was summer too!

As I've gotten older, I began to realize that certain things my father made me do, I now do. I, too, like some semblence of order. His discipline raised me to be the woman I am today.. Independent, fiesty and a bit standoffish. His example shows me what I want in a man. His example showed me what a man is and does and what he should be. His example leaves me lonely.....

There are so many men out there who didn't have a strong man in their life and they don't know how to treat a woman. Either they don't know or don't care enough to know. My man has to be strong. He has to have a strong back and he has to be able to provide. He has to love me unconditionally and he has to be supportive. He has to be willing to deal w/my spoiledness and love mine as she was his... That's my father... My father would give us all Valentine's day candy and now I expect that if I'm dating someone. If I don't get it, it's a wrap. To me, it's the small things. My father has a sense of humor, now. We talk on the phone and crack up! When I was younger, not so much. My father is my first love and I'm looking for someone who has old school values in this new school world... someone who will love me unconditionally, support my goals and my dreams, listen to my fears, spoil me when I want it and stand up to me when I need it... hahaha that sounds like a dating ad... But that's what I need, deserve and expect.

Merry Christmas!!!!!

The Past...

He stands 6'3. Chocolate complexion. Slim guy, who has gained weight thru the years but it looks good on him. He was always dressed sharp. Always perfectly accessorized. Always had the latest gear, the latest shoes, the latest everything..and always, took my breath away..until recently. We broke up in the late 90s and I thought my world would end. Actually, it did come crumbling down in a sense. I neglected my child, my friends and me during those "dark days". That's what I like to call that time in my life.. The "dark days".. cue music: dun dun dunnnn... I left him in a haze of exhaust fumes with pieces of my heart scattered on I295S... I left him when I finally got tired of the subterfuge of lies, games, and drama. Everyone around me was tired of the drama. My mother, my friends, me... but I still couldn't shake him. Even after the heartbreak.... even after the lies...even after the deception. I still felt connected to him, to Jersey, to everything...

I left Jersey in 2000 and started to settle into my new life in Georgia. But no one tells you when you're running from something it will follow you. No one prepares you for the road ahead.. There is no instructional manual. No guidelines. No rules. No step by step tutorial.. Just you and your wits. (If you got any) You have to forge ahead and deal with what comes... and that's what I did...or at least tried to do. I was still in constant contact with my past. Carefully, teetering a fine line to keep my past and present separate. Careful with the lies I told myself and the lies I told others. Careful not to mix the two or have them collide violently. Careful to manipulate the system just enough so I got what I needed and fuck anybody who got in my way... I was very careful... or so I thought.

My past came to visit me when I settled into my new place. The Queendom. My past wanted to see how I was living and if he could move down here. He came in on a Friday and we had a ball, that night. We went to a neighborhood spot with a few of my friends and had a good time. Dancing and drinking. Getting it in! I was glad he came. Maybe he will consider moving down. After we left my friends, we came back to my place and I decided to take a shower. Why did I do that? I came back to him sitting up in my bed and looking really crazy. I didn't think anything of it becuz I had been drinking. I thought he was just drunk. Unbeknownst to me, this dude had gone thru my things and found my journal. He read it and discovered I was seeing someone, who had a girlfriend, and I really liked him. He couldn't believe I could do such a thing. He got up in my face. I got up in his. He started yelling. I yelled back. He called me every name but my own. I returned the favor. He ran into my kitchen. I followed close behind. He's opening drawers and then I snap out of it. What is he looking for, I wondered. He grabs a knife and chases me back into my room..deep into my closet, pins me to the wall and he's holding the knife to my neck and he is screaming. I mean, this dude is belligerent. Crazy. Eyes wide open. Wild like a feral dog. I finally talk him down..well, God talked him down becuz I was scared shitless. We walk back into my room and he body slams me on the floor but my boot is there and I feel a crack and I know it's my ribs. I can't breathe. I can't cry. I'm in pain. Now what, genius? Who's idea was this again? Mine. Who's stupid now? Me. You know this cat is crazy. You know he has a jealous heart. Why would you leave your journal out? Damn that! Why would you invite him here? Becuz I thought he changed. I thought over time, he had changed.

Funny thing about time. Time makes you forget everything. Time makes you gloss over the bad parts of your life and focus on the good. Time makes you want to reconcile. Time makes you want to reconnect with what you lost and make everything better. Time is a lie. Had I been in my right frame of mind. I would have said, no, don't come when I felt that tinge in my gut as it came closer for him to come. Had I thought about it long and hard and LISTENED to my inner voice, I would have kept it moving...but noooo, here I am, laying on the floor with cracked ribs and a crazy man looming over me. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep, that night or the next. First I was in pain and second, I didn't trust him NOT to kill me in my sleep. He picked me up and apologized. He tried to hold me but I refused and plus I was in pain. The next day, we went to my best friend's house and I told her what happened when he went to the bathroom and she just stared at me. I shook my head and said, I know. He's acting like nothing ever happened. Acting so loving, that I actually throw up in the bathroom. Why didn't I kick him out you ask? Good question. I still don't have an answer as I think back on it now. I know I couldn't wait for Sunday morning when it was time for him to leave. On the way to the airport, I'm quiet. He wants to know "What's wrong, Lish?" Really? You have to ask. We "discuss" the fallout and where we,... excuse me, where I went wrong and I told him, you're right. I'm wrong. As we pull up to the airport, I tell him, don't worry about it.. He won't ever be welcomed back to my door again and I pull off leaving him standing on the curb...

As I drive away, my phone rings.. it's him... What could he possibly have to say? He can't make it better. He can't make my ribs stop hurting. He didn't even believe me when I told him I was in pain and holding my side... So why is he calling? To say what? Part of me is saying, don't answer and the other part of me...is picking up the phone, hitting accept and saying...Hello?

Shamelessly Me....

Shamelessly me.. unabashed, unashamed, unafraid of being me... I am a tall, voluptuous black woman who is striving to become better.. Striving to do better. Striving to live better and striving to love better... love me, that is. Loving everyone else is easy. I can love anyone... I can pick them up. Be their cheerleader. Tell them a better way to do things. Believe that they will accomplish all they set out to and cheer, cry, laugh, or whatever they need along the way. I can listen to them talk until they get it out, crack a joke, make them feel better and keep it moving. In their eyes, I am strong. I am resilient. I am impenetrable. I am comfortable in my own skin. I am confident. I am aloof. I am standoffish. I am moody and I am NOT a cheerleader. Sometimes, I don't want to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on or my point of view. Sometimes I simply want to be vulnerable. Sometimes, I want to be able to call someone and cry unabashedly. Just yell and scream at the heavens, WHY MEEEE?! (But then I would have to scream Why Me when times are good too.) I simply want to be me.  I don't want to be a cheerleader. I just want to be... at times. I know I give the vibe that I don't need anyone to lift me up. I know I carry myself with such confidence that it would seem I don't "need" anything...that is such a lie. My famous line is, I'm going to take a nap. It will make me feel better. That's my way of hiding. It's my way of shutting out the world and going deep inside myself and being me.  Although, lately, a nap simply ain't doing it...

Simply put, I cannot hide from myself. No matter how many naps I take, no matter how deep I sleep, I cannot forever choose to sleepwalk. Yes, I must look within and see what's going on with me. I have to find out why I make the moves I make. Why I let pride lead the way. Why I let my ego get the best of me... why I choose not to be vulnerable in front of those closest to me? What am I afraid of? Why am I hiding...and when will I let myself breathe.....?

heartbreak

Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you? I mean you are, literally, gasping for air, heaving, can't get enough oxygen to your lungs, sucking in air as fast as you can because you feel as if you're going to die? Tears stinging the back of your eyes, threatening to escape because the lack of oxygen is too much too handle.. to even concieve... You literally feel like you're going to die... That feeling to me is the equivalent of heartbreak. It feels as if every breath you take that your heart is breaking. How can something that is clearing mental emit such a harsh and physical pain? How is it that you don't even think about your heart until it feels as if it's about to jump through your chest..break thru the breastbone and land in your hands... broken. I wouldn't wish that pain on my worst enemy. Heartbreak is undeniable, unquestionable the worst pain in the world. I'd rather go thru child birth again before I get my heart broken again. Childbirth only lasts for a while and you can get medication for the pain to stop.. Heartbreak takes time to get over.. There is no medication in the world that can stop that pain. You can drink it, smoke it, snort it (whatever your vice) away but it will slowly creep back to the surface. As soon as you think, you're healing and you're ready to try your hand at love again..BAM! In walks heartbreak..aha! You thought I forgot ya didn't you? Then it's back to the sobs, the tears, the depression, the lackadaisical attitude, no enthusiasm..nothing. Just emptiness... (I can't write this bullshit.. lol)

Where's my brother to tell me: man up! lol