As we lay...

As I slumber, I feel someone sliding in the bed with me.

I realize that it's him.

I notice his scent, like Curve on a hard working, masculine body covered with soft chocolate skin.

He lifts the covers, finding his spot within our bed.

Quietly, from behind, he slides into the bed with me.

I don't even notice that he is cold until he enters into our bed.

Yet, I never open my eyes.

Because I know it is him entering into our bed.

Softly, he wraps his arms around my waist.

I feel his breath against my ear, followed by his lips that glide past my earlobe.

He whispers, "Hello beautiful", in the most sensually calming way that causes my inner girl to awaken from her slumber.



I grab his hand on my stomach as he kisses the nape of my neck.

For a moment he nussels his cold nose against my shoulder, using my body like a heating pad to warm up his chilled body.

Once he is warm enough, he runs his hands up and down my stomach like it's the sexist stomach he has ever touched.

His touch is gentle and soft.

His aura arises me from my sleep.

As we lay together, spooning each other.



Our hands rest intertwined with one another.

Our breaths are starting to sycronize together.

I feel his chest moving up and down against my back

He feels my heart beat relax as his presence calms me.



He whispers in my ear, "How was your day?"

With a smile, I quickly open my eyes giving him a quick recap of the day.

It's usually filled with the normal things: work, class...class, work...work, class, meeting...meeting, class, work...

He adds into the conversation at the right times, and is quiet when he knows I need to vent.

But my tone doesn't change.

No need to raise a voice or lift a hand.

Because I am in his arms, my safe haven.

Where I can calmly talk to him in the beautiful darkness of our room.



I ask him in my bedtime voice, "How was your day?"

He sighs and describes the rollercoaster day he had.

Filled with the normal things: work, class...class, work...meeting, work, class...

And of course missing me the entire time.

Wishing I was around to hug him, kiss him, and hold him.



He always has a way of making me laugh.

And overpowering me with his love, friendship, and companionship.

But in that moment, peaceful serenity always engulfs us.

The television is turned off.

The Ipod is on pause.

As we lay...



I turn around to face him.

He's such a beautiful man.

Full of African features, with endearing brown eyes full of character and light.

His chocolate chiseled body always turns me on.

Somehow his shirt always gets lost on the way to bed.



He looks at me with his dark eyes,

running his hands from my waist to my face.

Taking his time passing all the hills and valleys of my body.

His glance becomes more intense, as he leans in to press his lips against mine.

The moment his lips touch mine, I feel electricity pass through,

Causing my heart to beat a million miles a minute.

As we lay...



My head leans back, resting upon the pillow.

His lips still pressed up against mine,

With our lips parting, allowing our tounges to meet.

Our hands caressing each inch of our bodies.

We continue this cycle of passion

As we lay...



He stops kissing me for a moment.

I feel his breath against my face as he looks down at me.

He smiles down at me with those same trusting eyes,

Causing my heart to flutter even more.

With the kisses, touching, and cuddling,

I think my heart will explode at any moment.

As we lay...



He lays back against his pillow

Opening his arms,

Allowing me to slide within them so he may hold me for the rest of the night.

When I rest my head against his beautifully crafted chest,

I feel his heart beat.

Somehow it's going at the same rhythum as mine.

His hands running up and down my back,

Drawing me closer to him

As we lay...



Before I know it, I wake up.

And he is replaced with a black pillow.

I press my face against the pillow and groan in frustration.

Yet, I pause for a moment to remember how he felt,

How he smelled,

How he touched me,

How he kissed me so gently,

And how sweet and powerful his presence was.

I couldn't help but smile and remember the moments we had.

Desperately, I try to go back to sleep to return to my dream man.

To spend just another moment with him.



Please dear Sandman, let me return to my dream lover

So I can remember how it felt

As we lay...

Ever?

I took my Thursday evening to type up some poems for a brotha-friend. He inspired me with his poems, I offered my typing services. After all, the man had things written on sheets of paper. So, I offered to help him out. After the third poem written about the connection between him and another woman, I started to wonder whether anyone has ever had those feelings towards me. Was anyone ever inspired to write a poem about me? Was anyone moved to think of me as such a literary muse?

I thought a little deeper, wondering whether anyone ever loved me that way. Has anyone ever loved me to that degree? I can't answer with any certainty. I could assume that people loved me simply because we had a relationship. However, this poet loves a woman who is technically not his girlfriend. It's sweet the way he talks about her. How he lights up when he says her name. He showed us pictures of her without any problem. I was surprised when he opened up about her without any motivation or question. I find myself envying her, wondering if anyone ever spoke of me that way.

I know what I am. I am smart and intelligent. I'm that person you have late night conversations with about race and women's rights. I know I'm funny and positive, which is why people enjoy my company. But they suck so much out of me, I have nothing left sometimes. Yet no one is there to refill the cup with love and affection. Has anyone ever wanted to fill my cup?

Honestly, I have had a lot of people rotate in and out of my life. None of them ever stayed. And the times they were in my life, they gave me their minimal effort. I know I deserve more. Too bad I'm not receiving it. Because I'm always giving them so much of me. I'm always writing about them, talking about them, considering them, wanting them. Soon the relationship turns into me giving while they are receiving. Then they still walk away, without any remorse. And I sit back wondering whether it was all worth it. I sit alone and question whether I was ever loved by that person or simply a distraction for the next woman to come along.

Will my day ever come when I'm the girl in the poem? When will the time come when I can have my cup refilled? Will I ever really be loved?

Tackle

We both love football, even though we support different teams. He suggested during one of our many text conversations that he come over and watch Monday Night Football with me. After all, none of our teams were playing. So it would be safe to assume we could watch the game without any issues. I thought it was a great idea. Plus, it was even better that my roommate was out of town. I made sure that he had the right football watching food, which consisted of hot wings and beer. I knew he liked hot wings when my classmate and I brought them to class one day. He tore them up. Later, he tore my body up in the same manner. Licking me like the bone and gently biting into me. But not before he tackled me.

When he rang the door bell, my heart jumped. I smiled to myself as I ran over to the door wearing comfortable jeans and tshirt. However, I was equipped underneath with white laced hipsters with a matching white padded bra. As I opened the door, looking at my sexy visitor, I thought I opened the gateway to heaven. He had that Atlanta swagger that set him apart from any man I ever met in my life. He was always wearing comfortable, yet creative clothes. As he walked in, he gave me one of his bear hugs. I exhaled at that moment, allowing my body to be wrapped up in his. Our bodies intertwined during those hugs, where I was able to inhale his essence. He rarely wore cologne, but the smell of him was enough to intoxicate me.

No matter where I move to, he always finds that one spot on the couch. Everytime he comes over, he always sits in the same area on the couch. When he was not around, I would secretly sit in his spot, just be somewhere he was at. This day was not an exception from that. When he secured his spot, I asked him whether he wanted some wings before the game started. He replied, "Yeah, that's what's up." My Atlanta prince was a man of few words. He said only what he had to say, nothing more, nothing less. Many times I find myself babbling just to make up for the lack of words in the conversation. But the intensity never changed.

While on the couch, I laid in his arms looking at the game. As he ran his hands along my side, I felt his breath against the top of my forehead. I leaned against him a little more, wrapping my arm across his stomach. He said in his soft, deep Southern voice, "I think we should make a bet over the game to make it more interesting since our teams aren't playing." I looked up at him, with his deep brown eyes meeting mine. I sat up a little and replied, "Alright, sure! If the Eagles win, you have to get on your knees and kiss my hand. Think you can handle that?" He smiled and laughed to himself. Somehow I was always able to bring a smile to his face, calming his inner lion. He replied, "Yeah, I think I can. But if the Bears win, you owe me a shoulder massage." I smiled and I thought to myself, how much I would love to massage every inch of his body. Instead I simply replied, "Alright, you have a deal mister."

Needless to say, the Eagles won. With McNab as quarter back, I had no doubt they would win. He smiled to himself as I cleared my throat and extended my hand, acknowledging that he hadn't fulfilled his end of the deal. Without anymore hesitation, he kneeled in front of me without taking his eyes off of mine. For a moment, I had to remind myself to breath. I tried to contain myself as he lifted my hand within his. They seemed to fit like a perfect puzzle piece. His warm hands clasped my hand within his. He lifted my hand towards his lips and kissed it. This entire time, looking at me with the look of longing in his eyes. His lips lingered on my hand. I unexpectedly exhaled loudly without taking my eyes away from his. At that moment, I realized that I couldn't get enough of his energy. While the game was over, I did not want him to leave.

Perhaps he read my mind because he stated, "The night's still young, want to watch a movie or something?" I almost giggled in excitment, but maintained my composure. Because in my mind, I wanted him to touch and hold me a little longer. I replied, "Well there's a problem, there's no DVD player down here" He said, "Well, where is a DVD player?". I smiled to myself, looking down, then meeting his gaze. In a sweet, sexy voice, I replied, "Upstairs. In my room." At first, he hesitated. He has been such a gentleman the entire time we've known each other. I could tell he was deciding whether to act on his inhbitions or remain respectful. Sensing his hesitation, I sweetly said, "Don't worry. You can come up to my room. As long as you promise not to tackle me or anything." His smile seemed to grow a little brighter as we made our way upstairs.

He perused my room as I inserted the DVD. Realizing that there was not a couch in the room, he laid on the side of the bed I do not sleep on. That's another thing that's interesting about him. No matter what, he always knew what side of the bed I sleep on without asking me. When I finally laid on the bed, he turned toward me. I made sure I laid with my back towards him so we could spoon. This was the first time I had a man in this bed. And he would make it worth my wild.

The movie barley past opening credits when I felt his hands brush against my side and across my stomach. He pulled slightly at my pants, unbuttoning only the top button. I smiled to myself, knowing what he was up to. I thought he was going to continue. Instead he paused, resting his hand on my stomach. A few seconds later, I felt his breath against my ear. It was isolated, so I knew it was on purpose. His breath against my ear caused my inner girl to instantly awaken in anticipation. I softly asked, "Are you trying to start something sir?" Before I knew it, he turned me over on my back, mounting me as he started to gently kiss me. His hands started to touch down my sides, under my shirt, and up under my bra. He cupped my breast in his hands while kissing me deeper. His lips overpowered me, but in a way that made my body temputure rise. His lips covered mine, as he worked his tounge in my mouth with such intensity.

Soon, he slowly continued to unbotton and unzippen my pants. At this moment I realized we were finally doing wanted to do ever since we met. As he placed my pants on the floor, he saw my laced white underwear. He smiled at them as if they were a long lost friend. I sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed as he started to remove his shirt. Yet, he leaned me back against the bed, kissing my navel and down to my inner thighs. I bit my lip, quivering with each kiss. I laid there with my girl facing him in my laced panties. He grabbed the sides of the panties and lowered them down my thigh. He looked at the panties and simply said, "Sexy..." When he stood up, he entered inside of me. His boy filling up my girl with such pleasure I could only exhale a desperate moan. I wanted more of him, but he pinned me down like a defensive lineman. Slowly, he stroked in and out of me. Yet, he let go of his inhibitions and started to go faster inside of me. I sat up, so he could enter deeper into me. After a few strokes, he gently slid me back on the bed mounting me. We moaned against each others ears. I felt his kisses against my neck as he continued to stroke within me. I dug my nails into his back, cupping his ass to enter deeper. I couldn't get enough of him, and he couldn't get enough of me. He lifted one of my legs so that the knee was closer to my face. Once he did that, I moaned louder feeling all of him inside my girl. My hands never left his back or his neck. Bitting his ear, I felt our energies climax into pure escasty.

We laid in each others arms, realizing we missed most of the movie. Catching his breath, he asked, "Would you like to repeat the movie?" I looked over at his naked body as he sat up. I sat up with him, bringing my body closer to him in a passionate hug. In the mirror across from the bed, I saw how sexy our naked, sweat soaken bodies looked interwined with each other. I finally replied, "No, that's alright. I think we both know what happened in this movie." He looked in my eyes and smiled. With the small night light glowing in my room, our bodies seem to radiate with the post coital glow. Looking at his face was the most healing experience. I had to ask, "What are you thinking?" He said, "The fact that I can't believe this happened." My heart sank as he said that. Then he quickly said, "I don't regret it. I'm just amazed that I had sex with a woman like you. I mean, I had sex with JAYME." I giggled out of pure disbelief and replied, "Awe, yes you did. And it was awesome." As we both giggled, I brought him closer and whispered in his ear, "However, you broke your promise." Confused, he pulled back,"What promise?" I smiled in the semi-dark room and replied, "I told you that you could come up here if you promised not to tackle me. And it seems like you did." He couldn't help but let out one of his low sexy laughs. He looked down for a moment, then looked up, meeting my eyes. He replied, "What can I say? Your so beautiful, I couldn't help myself. I had to tackle you."

Butter

Ever wanted to have breakfast for lunch, dinner, or a midnight snack? I usually like it during lunch on Thursdays when my coworker and I get breakfast. We usually get pancakes, with plenty of butter to spread on top. They bring out the pancakes so moist and hot that the butter dissolves in the pancake so quickly. I told my coworker that someone I used to date made pancakes for me. But he would put his butter in warm syrup. In fact, the way he touched me and kissed me made me melt like butter on a pancake.

Butter usually comes as a solid. But once some heat hits it, it is quickly turns into liquid form. That's the effect this guy had on me. Typically, I am well put together. A solid, strong black woman. Yet, one touch from him and I melt. I become that liquid, ready to be spread around. The transformation takes place rather quickly. All he would have to do is look at me with those hazel eyes and I would melt. His kisses lifted me so high, I had to check to see if I was floating. He knew me beyond my solid demenor. He saw into my heart. Who wouldn't melt being in his presence? I became the butter in his syrup, folding into him with ease.

I knocked on the door of his apartment, anticipating seeing him. It's been so long since we have seen each other. I know it was only a few days, but I couldn't get enough of him. His essense, masculinity, and sensuality. It didn't hurt that he could cook up a storm or make my heart melt. When he opened the door, my heart would always jump a little. He looked me over as I wore my short summer skirt and my tight black power Tshirt. The image seemed to make him happy because he gave me a smile that made his eyes slightly glow in excitment. Going to his place was like entering into our own world. I was able to let my hair down and be a woman. Walking into his apartment, I was no longer a student or a scholar. All of the inhibitions were left at the door and I was able to enter into a world that allowed me to be me.

The first thing I usually do when I walk in is check to see what he was cooking. I stand in the doorway of the kitchen, watching this beautiful chocolate man make the most delicious lunch. Little did I know, he was cooking up other plans as well. His hazel eyes were not the only thing that blew me away about him. He moved swiftly like a dancer, even in his sweat pants and a white cotton shirt. For a moment, I thought his skin was glowing from the florence in the kitchen. But, when I looked a little closer, I realized that his skin simply radiated, spewing his essence. He looked over at me and challenged me to a Wii game battle. I giggled to myself, because I knew I was better at bowling and tennis than he was. However, he was ready to play with me. At the time, I thought he meant only the Wii game. Time will show that he wanted to play with me in other ways...

Before I lifted the remote to play the bowling game, he grabbed my hand, bringing me closer to him. He looked at me with those incredibly sexy eyes that seemed to look right into my soul. He asked whether we could make the game interesting. I reluctantly replied, "In what way?"He laughed at my apprehension then said, "Well, how about we make a wager...with our clothes." I looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. He always seemed to speak in double tounge, saying one thing when he really means something more. This was one of those moments. I smiled at him without taking my eyes away from his then asked, "What's the game rules?" I could tell that amused him because he replied, "If you loose this game, then you have to take off an article of clothing. If you win, then I take off something." As he was explaining the rules, he tugged a little at my skirt, brushing his hand across my upper thigh. I looked down at where his hand was and challenged back, "Alright. Why not? I sure hope you are prepared to be naked."

Since I won the first game, he removed his pants slowly revealing his gray briefs. My inner girl started to get moist simply looking at his package in front of the briefs. He looked at me with such passion, I felt my body start to warm up instantly. I won the second and third games, which caused him to loose his shirt and socks (did I mention he was a smart ass too? A typical Virgo. ) revealing his white undershirt and boxers. I looked at his sexy body, wanting to quite the game just to jump on him. He tantalized me with his eyes while removing his clothing. Needless to say, I lost the next game, distracted by his sexy body. As I removed my shirt, I saw his eyes look at my black laced bra. I looked down, noticing that his briefs slightly moved. I knew he was excited then.

Somehow, I lost the next game too. I had no choice but to remove my skirt, revealing a matching set of lacked black panties. Like an exploding time bomb, he lunged toward me causing me to back up against the wall. He roughly grabbed my waist, kissing me so passionately that my breathing instantly became heavy. My body seemed to melt into his arms as his hands traveled down my back, gripping on my ass. Before I could even react, he lifted me up in his arms causing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me over to the bedroom, never taking his lips off mine. His tounge raced in my mouth, his lips working with mine. In his bedroom, he placed me on an old, wooden dresser. When he realized I was secure on the dresser, he started to work his kisses down to my inner girl. Each kiss, from my collar bone to my navel sent chills up my spine. I moaned in anticipation, waiting for the moment I would feel his lips upon my girls' lips. He kissed my inner thighs, working his way closer to her. After he quickly removed my panties, I felt his moist lips upon my girls lips. With his mouth, he isolated my clit from the rest of my girl and started to work it with his tounge ferosously. The feeling caused my body to convulse. My head leaned back against the wall as I let out several loud moans that I'm sure the neigbors heard. Once he got me good and ready, he came back up, kissing me deeper. His breath became mine.

He picked me up again and carried me to the bed. Once he placed me upon the bed, I felt his boy enter me, filling me up. As he stroked in and out, I heard the mattress sing as we moved. After he had enough of the missionary, he whispered in my ear, "I want you on top of me." I sat up, allowing him to lay down. I crawled on top of him, placing my knees at his sides. I allowed him to enter me. As I rocked back and forth on his boy, my moans started to get louder and deeper. He felt so good inside of me. Suddenly, I felt his hands caress my bare breast. He gripped them tighter as he inhaled each moan.

We went at it for so long, I did not realize that the morning came so soon. I woke up with the sun peaking into the room. Rolling over, I realized he was not beside me. Suddenly, the smell of coffee filled the room along with the smell of pancakes. I laid there naked in his black sheets, smiling to myself. I recalled him telling me that he wanted me to try his chocolate pancakes. Apparently, he perfected it. I woke up, put my laced underwear back on, and walked into the kitchen. I saw him at the stove cooking with nothing but his briefs on. He realized I was standing at the kitchen door and smiled. He walked over to me, kissed me and said, "Good morning sexy."' Even at six in the morning, he still found a way to make my heart melt quicker than the butter on the skillet.

Music, please take me back...

Hearing some music takes you back in time. You remember your first kiss, hug, and love. While looking through my friend's music collection, I came across a Donny Hathaway album. I glanced at the track list for a particular song. As I perused the list, I finally came across it. Simply looking at the song title brought a smile to my face. I clicked on the song, and closed my eyes as Donny's voice belt out of the speaker, "I've been so many places in my life and time." The music acted as a time traveler, taking me back to a time when I couldn't hear this song enough.

Music always creates the sensual mood. It lowers your inhibitions, allowing your heart to motivate your actions. Hearing someone sing in your ear intensifies the passion that is already there. I never understood that until I sat in my car listening to a man sing this beautiful tune. Even in the dark, his voice seemed to lighten the car. Laying against his chest, I felt his diaphragm contract as he prepared to release a musical note. Even through his red T-shirt, I felt his heart beat against my ear. The beat of his heart was succinct with the beat of Donny's song. His breath brushed against my forehead, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. I felt his soft hands caressing my back. As Donny's song started to climax, his hand started to travel under my shirt. The touch of his warm hand against my bare skin caused an electric shock to run through my body. He ad libbed Donny's notes, adding in his own flavor and voice to the track. As the instruments sung on the track, I felt his fingers pluck my back like a guitar.

His other hand dropped down to my thigh as Donny's voice entered the song again. His hand rose up my thigh as he started singing again with Donny. I started enjoying his voice more than Donny's because it made my heart crescendo in a way that Donny could never do. Of course, his finger tips playing my body like an instrument didn't hurt. My thighs acted as a drum, trembling with each touch. His hands traveled up my thigh, passing my inner girl, on my way up to my waist. Soon, his other hand traveled under my shirt, caressing my waist and stomach. For a moment, both of his hands were under my shirt trying to find their way to one another. Like two friends who reunited, his hands intertwined with each other under my shirt.

I had to look up at him to see whether this was real. His singing, touch, and breath ignited my inner girl. Moisture started to form around her as my hand traveled across his tight stomach pulling him closer to my body. Before I knew it, our faces gravitated toward each other. The magnetic force that pulled us together was stronger than we could handle. Then my lips finally met his warm, perfect lips. Electricity ignited again within me. Our tongues never met, but the current from our lips were enough to awaken us. As we kissed in the dark, Donny softly let out his last note. But for the first time, Donny sang unaccompanied because his soft lips were busy warming my fire. After we separated, we only looked in each others eyes with a smile forming across our newly moist lips.

The next track started to play on my friend's speakers, bringing me back to the present. I saw her look over at me wondering where my mind was for the past few minutes. I replied, "Oh nothing girl, this song just took me back for a moment." She giggled and said, "It sounds like it was a great memory." All I could do is smile and reply the song again.

Nightcap...

He poured himself another drink, even though we just left the bar. There was not much light in the kitchen. The only thing I saw was the silhouette of his body frame. I thought to myself how sexy he was standing in the kitchen. I remember this man from college, but never have I seen him in this light. The words we exchanged became a distance memory, even at that moment. We were a few feet apart, but I still felt warmth in the middle of winter. The kind of warmth that builds after many phone calls, text messages, and Facebook notes. Our tension grew even more as we stood in the same space. I was memorized by his masculinity that seemed to fill the room, even in the dark. I was captivated by his essence.



During my trance, I saw him walk over to me with eyes of intensity. I have seen this look before. It's the kind of look a predator gives his prey before he pounces. It's a look of pure hunger. Sexual hunger. Before I knew it, he was standing in front of me. I found myself backing up against the counter, as if the counter were somehow going to save me from his hunt. I looked up at him, gripping tighter on the edge of the counter. This is the moment we have been waiting for. All evening, he has been the perfect gentleman. Now he was ready to release the animal within. And for the first time all night, I was ready to receive him.



He leaned forward towards me, like he was trying to capture my essence before making his move. Looking in his eyes was not difficult, even in the dark kitchen. When he leaned forward I could feel the electricity igniting between the two of us. For a moment, I had to remind myself to breath. He leaned forward, never taking his eyes off me. First, he gave me a simple, sweet kiss. As I received his kiss, I felt the fire start to burn within me. At that moment, I wanted to rip off my turtle neck. His warmth was perfect against the winter weather. Our kiss only got deeper, our breathing became heavy, and our bodies started to gravitate towards one another. I felt his hands run down my back, grabbing my waist. Our bodies mounted each other, like we were trying to be one of the same body instead of two bodies intertwining. His hands dropped down to my butt, cupping it like a newborn baby. I stood on my tip toes, allowing his hands more access to my ass. I felt my body getting warmer. My fire started to burn more between my legs at such a high intensity that made me breath in the kiss deeper. Grasping my ass, he lifted me carelessly upon the kitchen counter. When he knew I was safely on the counter, his lips started to travel down to my collarbone, pushing my turtle neck aside to kiss as much skin as possible. His hands started to grip my thighs tightly as he passionately kissed my lips. His lips became in synced with mine. Giving me exactly the passion I wanted, without overpowering me. It was just enough to make me want more.



He gripped on to my waist, as if he was trying to prevent himself from falling over in ecstasy. My sweater came off instantly. I felt his breath against my neck while I felt his hands run up my sides and onto my breast. The nipples seem to shoot an electric current that seemed to heighten all of my senses. It was like he had a road map to my body, navigating it in all the right ways. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan against his ear. At that moment, I couldn't tell if I was reacting to the alcohol in my system or releasing the pure tension that mounted between us. While we were at the bar, we flirted and touched. He always knew how to touch me gently, while exciting my inner girl. Yet, he was reserved, waiting for the perfect moment for passion to ignite. One moment we are fussing at each other, the next moment we cannot get our hands off of each other. It was like we were secretly aching for each other so long. Now, on the counter, I felt his lust for me in such a dangerous way that almost caused me to go home with him to appropriately end this night.



The light never shut down. Our lips met each other so much, they became familiar friends. In the car, our sexual tension caused the windows in his truck to fog. Even in the winter chill, the car felt like a sauna. I wanted to go back to his place. I wanted to feel his naked body against mine so badly, it ached. I wanted to continue to feel his hands against my skin, his lips upon mine, and his boy filling into my girl like a perfect puzzle piece. The truck almost exploded with all of our untapped tension. His kisses ignited that which was dormant. His touch excited my body. But it was only a make out session. Walking to my friend's apartment, my legs felt weak. I almost asked him to pick me up so we could lay naked in his bed to finish this rendezvous. But, instead, I laid on my friend's couch with my heart rapidly beating as I reminisced on the make out night I had, wondering whether it will ever be more. For the first time all evening, the passionate fire finally settled into a smokey calm.

Why bother?

Why do I even bother myself with this?
It seems as though everytime I put in, you are sucking more and more out of me.

Why do I even bother?
It seems like a waste of time thinking anything will become of the two of us.

So I ask myself, why do I even bother?
After all, you cannot make me a priority in your life when I'm constantly making you one of mine.

Why do I even bother?
You are living the good life without me. So you really do not need me.

Why do I even bother?
Because lately all you have been causing me is disappointment and tears.

So, why am I doing this to myself?
I know I deserve to be treated better than this.

So, going back to my original question, why do I even bother?
I seem to be making more of an effor than you are willing to bring, regardless of your flaws.

Why do I even bother?
When you do not realize the jewel right in front of you.

Why do I even bother?
When I could invest my time in someone who is willing to invest their time into me.

Why do I even bother?
Because I know that God wants me to be fully and completely loved.

Why do I even bother?
When I am being sucked to my last will, put to the edge of my hope, and emotionally limping just to be disappointed yet again.

In fact, why am I doing this to myself?
I told myself not to put myself through this again.

Yet here I am,
Waiting for something that will never happen.
Expecting the unexpected.

I don't know if I have anymore to give.
I give so much to others without recieving replinishment.

So, why do I put myself through it?
As if anything is going to change.

Because as far as I can see
It's the same person in a different body.

So, I will continue to ask myself, "why bother?"

The Quest to Define Love

I recall a conversation I had with a gentleman about a year ago. For some strange reason, that night is flashing through my mind as if it happened yesterday. I remembered it was one of our "deep" conversations, where we were discussing relationships. Mind you, we were not talking about OUR relationship, but relationships in a general context. Throughout our conversation, I remembered asking him how he would define love. He paused for a moment and replied, "I don't know if I can answer that question." I slightly squinted my face for two reasons: 1) I was starting to feel this guy and that was NOT the answer I was looking for; and 2) I didn't think it was a hard question, so why was he struggling with it? I suppose he heard my hesitation because he followed up by saying, "Well I don't want to tell you some bullshit just to say I told you something. If I am going to define it, I want to be able to be accurate."

Ironically, a year later, I am struggling with that same question. If he would have turned the question on me, I wonder how I would have answered it at that point in my life. Perhaps I would have been idealistic. I might have answered how "love concurs all". Or maybe I would have been realistic with a response such as, "love can kick rocks". But if that same conversation took place right now, I would simply reply, "I'm trying to figure that out for myself." Quite frankly, a lot of us need to reply to that question the same way.

I honestly say that I have been in deep "like" before. I have "fallen hard" for several guys. But, if you were to ask me whether I loved them, I cannot say I did with 100% certainty. For example, I told my ex boyfriend that I loved him several times. And at the time, I did. However, the older I get, the more I realize that that love I had for him was extremely shallow. I would even argue that it was a love out of convenience. While I cared deeply for him and "fell hard" for him, did I really love him or was it "strong like"? Or perhaps I did love him with all that I had. And trust me, that wasn't much.

Now I am in a situation where I am in a "deep like" for someone. While I have used the term "love", I do not know whether that is what I feel. Ironically, it was the same person I mentioned above. But the slightest thing, and I'm ready to shut down again. If he doesn't text back, I start shutting down. If he doesn't come see me when he said he would, I shut down. If he doesn't contact me, I start to shut down. I do that as if shutting down makes it easier for me to deal with things before I get hurt. He hasn't done anything for me not to trust him nor has he hurt me. But, I find myself still hiding behind walls. The wall I built up.

The question is: why am I so afraid of love? Most importantly, where do these walls come from? Yes, I've been hurt and disappointed by people. But I haven't had a serious relationship in YEARS. Ironically, it isn't the walls that have been built up from past experiences. Sometimes it's walls built due to fear of the unknown. Perhaps I am afraid of love because I have seen what it has done to others. Or maybe I struggle with this idea of "surrendering" within a relationship. Or maybe I just have no earthly clue what this thing called "love" is. The more I thought about it, I realized it was the latter. I know what it means to love your family. But loving someone who is not your flesh and blood is slightly difficult to grasp.

I may define love as one thing, but what if it isn't what I think it is? So many times we make love into an idealistic, individualistic feeling. Love stems well beyond a mere emotional feeling. While it may start there, that's not all it is. So many people describe love in terms of, "me" or "I" instead of "we". At times, we deal with things in the name of "love". Then, we do things in order to avoid love. It's a tricky game that everyone wants to participate in without really knowing the rules. A question came to me today pertaining to this very question. Then I finally asked myself, "What does God say about love?" I found myself stunned because I could not adequately answer that question. Sure, I went to the "Love is patient and kind" verse that we all hear at weddings. Yet, what does that REALLY mean? In this day in age, what does patience and kindness entail?

So I decided that that needs to be my new spiritual journey. This is not just a Christian journey, because love manifests itself in every religion and spiritual entity. However, I will start with Christianity because I am familiar with that spiritual base. Instead of fearing the unknown, I must take a look at what God defines love as because man's definition of love may be warped by personal gain. More importantly, when God's hand is in it, then it is perfect. When man takes a hold of something, it might be corrupted. We can't help it. After all, we are only flesh and blood with a limited scope on issues such as love.

So feel free to join me on this quest to define love. Keep in mind that I am not a theologian. So the only thing I am planning to do is say what the scripture says. That's all. I look forward to this journey.

He is....

He is a rare diamond within a pile of coals
So you have to peel away the coals to get to him.

He exudes confidence
It pours out of him like chocolate milk in a glass.

He exemplifies manhood
Because his masculinity is not measured by earthly things.

He is handsome and sexy
When he walks into a room, heads turn, making my heart beat a million miles an hour.

He has a strong sense of self
His worth is defined only by him, not anyone else.

He always has a way of making others smile
Because he understand the power of positive energy.

He is a man who prays
For he recognizes and yields to the power of God.

He is always full of laughter
Never wanting to become a person who is always serious.

He is a fighter
Never allowing the trials and principalities of life to destroy him or his loved ones.

He is a lover
Knowing that love can answer all problems, because God is love.

He is a provider
Giving everything he possibly can, even if it's not always monetary.

He is a protector
Constantly shielding and protecting his loved ones.

He is passionate
Always adding a dash of spice to everything he does.

He is open-minded
Allowing himself to always be tolerant and accepting of people and issues that are different than his own.

He is beautiful
Because his inner essence radiates outwardly, causing him to glow.

He is a culture-keeper
Constantly reminding himself and others that his culture should be celebrated, instead of a label of shame.

He is a student
Always learning new things, never thinking that he knows it all.

He is gentle
Never laying his hand on a woman to cause her harm, but only to lovingly caress her.

He is strong
Scooping you up and carrying you to the bed.

He is honest
Never hesitating to call a spade a spade.

He is a genuine gentleman
Recognizing that womanhood should be honored.

He is a visionary
Knowing that it does not yet appear what he shall be.

He is a man
Meant to compliment a woman, not to dominate, complete, or degrade her.

He is a walking oxymoron
Because he is so many things wrapped up in one person.

This is my love letter, dedicated to you
My handsome, strong, insightful men.

For you represent manhood at it's best
Showing these boys what they should aspire to become.

Believe it or not,
I do love you.

Even if I spit my feminist banter
And express my views about women's rights.

The only thing I ask
Is that you love me as much as I love you.

I want you to choose me
The woman who will always be your rock.

Because of who you are,
I'd be honored to stand by your side.

So many times we are overlooked, degraded, and mistreated.
The only thing we ask is that you allow us to love you and love us in return.

While there's so much at stake when it comes to love,
Understand that we have always loved everything about you.

Some of us constantly disrespect your manhood
Because only you can hurt us the way you do.

It hurts me to see others emasculate you
Because I know you are the King in our community.

It also hurts us when you do not understand who you are
Because we know your power and love you for it.

So I'm here to remind you
That you are amazing.

He is...
You

"Love" isn't Always Enough...

My birthday is in a few weeks. Actually, it's about a month away. Who dreads turning 26? I do. It's not because of the fact that I'm getting old or thinking I need to reach a particular deadline. It's the reality that I cannot live in a fantasy world. No longer am I privy to the 20-somethin' mentality of a land swimming with milk and honey. When you reach 25, you have one realization about who you are ( or what you are not). But once you start marching in your late twenties, you start realizing that roses do not smell as sweet as they once did. (Granted, I haven't received or smelled a rose since my early twenties. But I digress.) I'm always labeled as a "kid", or someone who is "so young". Yet, with the world the way it is, you find yourself growing up a little faster than you anticipated. In fact, you wish you were simply a kid or that young buck that is fresh into life. Your experiences start giving you a very unique perspective that a lot of individuals did not reach until they were much older. Trust me, I wish I could be that little girl again who believed in fairy tale endings. I wish I had that faith I had as a kid. However, I'm a woman marching in my mid-twenties with a goal I do plan to accomplish. So no longer can I solely focus on the small, insignificant matters because I have things to do, places to go, and people to see. (Of course, it's always great to take a break from reality every once in a while.)

One of the many things I'm starting to realize is that love isn't always enough. We had the dreams of the man riding up on his white horse to carry us away to a life of happily ever after. Growing up, we had our dream man (which probably changed to various famous pop stars or actors). I remember playing with my Barbie dolls (yes, don't laugh, I actually played with dolls) and creating this world where the girl doll was living in a house with her husband and kids. Because my family was living off a military salary, I had to get my toys from the kids meals at McDonalds. Nonetheless, my Barbie doll had a family. I realize now that that was a result of my own gender role socialization. But I would create a happy world with my Black Barbie and her Chocolate Ken. Unfortunately, the story I created for my dolls isn't the same reality that actually takes place in our lives. Now we deal with the fact that Black Barbie is trying to form a career all while waiting for her Chocolate Ken. In fact, Black Barbie wants it all. Yet she realizes that that may not be possible because love isn't always enough.

Love ( and even a strong "like") transforms you. It rejuvenates you, even at your lowest point. It's the most amazing feeling to care for someone outside of yourself. Love challenges you to be a better person so that you may COMPLIMENT (not COMPLETE) that other person. It drives you to levels of consciousness you never thought possible in your lifetime. You saw it in the movies, but there's nothing like real, tangible love. It makes you smile during a stormy day. Amazingly enough, you can love someone who is not your "boyfriend/girlfriend" deeper than you did for your former "boyfriend/girlfriend". You know you love someone when no one can even compare to them. It's like you did not REALLY know how to breath before they came along. You thought you were breathing fine, then all the sudden your breathing pattern changes. Love is powerful. It's amazing. It's better than any tangible gift you can ever acquire.

Unfortunately, this is not enough. I really hate to burst your bubble after all of that, but it's the truth. Black Barbie may love everything about Chocolate Ken from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. Circumstances prod their way into this mythical, love bubble. I have realized that my former relationship ended not because of anything that any of us did wrong. (Yeah, I'm even shocked I said that out loud...If you ask me later, I'll deny it.) It was simple: LIFE HAPPENED. I have dated some REMARKABLE guys who could have easily been my Chocolate Ken. Yet, life happened. And somehow that spark that ignited filtered away. It could be simple as career goals, different priorities, long distance, being excluded from someone's life, parental priorities, child priorities, school work, new job, etc. Mine seems to be my career goals. Everything else seems to fall under that main category. With my previous relationship, I think we both knew that we had other priorities. Life was taking me one way and taking him another. Now that I am on this career path, it's going to take a lot of dedication, determination, and prayer. Unfortunately, love is not enough.

Do not get me wrong, love can transform even the darkest situations. But as my mother's child, I also know to "not be stupid" either. For instance, while I would love to be with someone for the rest of my life, I also have to accept the reality that it may never happen given our priorities or goals. He might want to do one venture that may take him one place while I want to accomplish another that may take me a completely different direction. I might want to focus on settling down while he wants to still hang out. I can go to school anywhere, but he may not be ready for someone to make that kind of commitment yet. So, I cannot limit my doctoral search nor can I force him to make a commitment. I do not suggest that you have to be at the same place at the same time. However, I do suggest that we have to be more realistic about our romantic situations. We have to think with our heart AND our mind. While you love this person, do you REALLY see a future with them? Given how you feel about each other, and the physical situation you two are in, could it work out if you wanted it to? Do they have flaws that you could learn to live with? You know, the mess they create, the morning breath, the mother calling every day, etc. Trust me, I visualize the household with 2.5 kids and a dog in the backyard during football Sundays. ( Go Carolina!) But that picture may or may not happen with a particular person. That's the reality of love. That's the part we do not want to discuss because it brings our heads out of the clouds and back to the real issue. While my career goals mean a lot to me, sustaining love within my life would mean just as much to me as any piece of paper. However, I also have to take my mother's advice into consideration by "not being stupid".

I'm not saying you cannot love freely. But also think about life outside the "love bubble". I realize that I have to take myself out of the daydream world and face some realities that I try to hard to ignore. After all, love can create this beautiful love bubble. But life can come in and bust it in a moments notice. I know, I sound like a pessimistic bitch. I am just sharing with you something that has been on my heart. While I do love freely, I also look at the other possibilities. I try not to dwell on them, but there are certain realities to take into consideration. Marriages usually end because people have unrealistic expectations about marriage or a relationship. After all, marriages are the epitome of this realistic love. It's not about a lack of faith or love. It's about looking at the entire picture and making an assessment of your situation based on that. While I want my Chocolate Ken with my McDonalds character kids, I have to realize that love is not always enough. You and the other individual have to make it realistically work. Part of it is being honest with ourselves and the other person. While love is awesome, it's also not always enough. So, with all that being said, a lot of times we have to put it in God’s hands. Love isn’t always enough, but it can be once you put your situation in God’s hands. How simple and beautiful is that?

I Don't Know How to Say....

It's amazing,
Because I do not know what to say.
Or how to say it.
Which is so unusual for me.
But, I know how I feel.
Yet I cannot say it outloud.
It's one of those moments where you do not know whether to smile or cry.
You bottle up the feelings inside,
Hoping you can pour them all out one day.
Until that day, you do not utter a single word.

I don't know how to say
The way I feel about you.
I know that my soul smile when you are around.
I feel my heart beating so fast,
I think it will fall out of my chest.
No matter what kind of day I am having,
I know that your touch heals me.
But, I still keep my mouth shut.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
I know that no one has been able to replace you.
I find myself comparing every man in my life to you.
Whether they are funny or tough like you.
Whether they make my heart melt.
Whether they make me feel more like a woman.
Somehow, they always come up short.
Never quite matching up to you.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
I know that I get excited to recieve a text or call from you.
I smile to myself and think, "Yes, it's him."
I anwser promptly as possible, because hearing your voice...
Just hearing it,
Makes all the worries fade away.
And your text, always has the sweestest greetings.
That are bound to brighten my darkest days.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But I know that we have never had a fight.
Our disagreements are always light, and challenging.
Never demeaning or disrespectful.
I worry that we never fight with each other.
But I'm glad we only have tight intellectual discussions
That leave us both enlightened.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But I know when something good happens,
You are one of the first people I want to tell.
When something happens to you,
I want to share in that moment with you
Whether it is wonderful or hurtful.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But it drives me nuts
When I don't hear from you.
I yearn to hear from you,
In whatever capacity technology will allow.
While I will settle for a technology hit from you,
I'd rather be in your presence.
So we can touch, kiss, and tussle around.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But you are the epitome of black manhood.
You compliment me in every way.
I won't say you complete me,
Because I complete myself.
But you sure do understand what it means
To be a real man to a real woman.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
I do know that I feel alive when I'm with you.
Each time we are together,
My feelings toward you only intensify.
And my heart hasn't been able to stray away from you.
My mind always tells me to walk away,
But my heart says, "You can't help how you feel about this man."

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But I can see our future together.
With our home, children, and the dogs.
With football parties, family gatherings, and children's play dates.
With the quiet evenings on the couch laying in your arms.
With making love all night.
Ending with us falling asleep with each other.
We are sharing our life together in bliss.
Not perfection, but basking in the happiness of one another.

I don't know how to say,
The way I feel about you.
But I think you are one one.
And maybe one day,
I'll actually be able to tell you
The way I feel about you.

Why? We've got to do better, single people...

People have often asked me why they go through the things they go through. I often hear my single friends complain about the disappointments they face in their lives dealing with dating. While I hear what they have to say, I often do not have anything left but the typical cliche responses that I even hate to hear. The reason I respond the way I do is simply because I cannot anwser their questions. I cannot sooth their pain. I cannot say something magical to make everything alright because I often ask myself and God those same questions. They'll ask me "when their day will come", "when will I finally be happy?", or "when will someone love me the way I love them?". I sit and wonder the same question myself. They will share their frustrations with me about, "Why?" and "Why not me?" and all I can do is say, "Trust me, I know what you mean." But I cannot anwser their questions. After all, I am plagued with the same concerns.

It does not make sense when I see wonderful people being mistreated by others. I get hurt hearing my friends go through the hardships when dating is supposed to be fun. People have somehow made something innocent and playful so demeaning and vindictive. It seems as though everyone is looking out for themselves instead of looking deep within themselves to find the truth. I swear, once a day everyone should take a long look in the mirror at themselves. To find out who the fuck they are. And figure out why they hurt the people they care about the way they do. Usually it is because they have been hurt by other people. So they carry that shit with them, hurting another person. Unfortunately, the cycle continues. This horrible, disgusting cycle that we do to each other has got to stop. Because at the end of the day, someone is always hurt. Someone ends up crying themselves to sleep. When they wake up in the morning, they sometimes wonder, "Why?" and "Why not me?"

All I am asking is that we start knowing who we are and what we want out of life. I am so tired of hearing good people getting hurt by people that did not know what they wanted. Too often, I have heard people say, "I just want to know what they want." I usually respond candidly, "Sometimes they do not know what they want for themselves...how can they possibly know what they want from you?" If you fit in this category, I would beg of you to just sit down for a moment. Stay away from the good people who only desire to fall in love. Because what you are doing is destructive and cruel. If you cannot state what your expectations are when you are involved with someone, then you need to leave them alone. If you know you only want to be friends with someone, then do not get involved with someone who wants a committed relationship. If you know that you just want to bang someone or have a good time, then do not chase after someone who is looking for their soulmate. We are hurting each other. Destroying each other's hearts and souls. And then we wonder why we are in our state of digression. We are too busy trying to "find out" what we want through other people instead of investing more time with ourselves. We would rather avoid those uncomfortable moments of truth by falling in a bed of lies and deicet.

We are over here trying to have "soul" searches. But we forget that there is another PERSON involved. It's not just about you and your feelings. You are dealing with another human being, who already has a tattered soul. Why place anymore hurt on them? How much disappointment and hurt can one person endure throughout their life? Everyone keeps telling you that "all these experiences make you a stronger person." I know, because I say it to people all the time. They usually accept this response because of its validity. Yet I ask the question they may want to ask but never do: "When do you stop learning and start loving?" or "Well, how much more do I have to learn?" But I am glad they do not ask me that burning question, because I would not know how to anwser that either.

I am not saying this because something happened to me. I am simply placing a concern of mine on the table. We are so busy trying to look out for us, we fuck up other people's lives, hearts, and souls. It's simply not fair. I realize that life isn't fair, but at a certain point, we need to start taking some responsibility for our own behavior. Even if it's as simple as letting people know our intentions before we get involved. That's a step. I am not saying that everyone needs to be in a relationship. I realize people out there just want to bone or have "friends with benefits". But understand that you are in that space. And if you decide to get involved with someone, let them know that space you occupy. I am saying that you need to know what you want first before getting involved with someone else. It's so simple. Ironically, people do not do it. All I am saying is: check yourself first. Because if you don't, you will more than likely end up hurting someone else who didn't deserve it.

In other words, leave the good people alone! Let them go through life without meeting you and your disfunctional self. I am pretty sure they would rather enjoy themselves alone than be bothered with your destructiveness. If you are bored or lonley, then take up a hobby, buy a dog, volunteer somewhere, or buy a "toy". But do not suck other people into your hole of doom. That way you don't end up hurting a genuine person, who only wants to love and be loved in return. I just hate seeing great people hurt. I am sick and tired of the way we are dating each other. When our parents dated back in the day, I highly doubt it was as horrible as it is now. (Perhaps it's because they did not have all the technology that we have now. With our BBM's, text messaging, Facebooking, Yahooing, IMing, etc. God forbid, they actually had to TALK. But I digreess...)We walk around destroying each other...without even knowing it. And that is the sad part in all of it. Somehow we end up walking around with someone else's "stuff"...and we don't even know what to do with it.

We need to do better. We need to stop hurting each other in order to heal ourselves. We need to start being honest with ourselves about what we want and who we want. Instead of beating around the bush, be honest with other people. If you have no intention of something happening with that person, then leave them alone. Leave room for the right man/woman to come into their lives. Perhaps this will allow them to openly embrace new situations instead of fearing them. Honesty with ourselves and honesty with others is the key to our salvation. The dating process is grueling and frustrating on it's own without insensitive people getting involved. So if you are out there, not knowing why the hell you keep hurting other people, why don't you take a look in the mirror? Then, quietly remove yourself from the situation(s) immediately. If you are a good person, who only wants love, then you will get what you deserve and then some. I can't say when or how, but I have faith that it will happen to you. And everyone who hurt you will just sit in envy as you sit in relationship bliss. But for now, as hard as it may be, try to keep your head up. Continue to live your life as if those individuals never entered into your life. Don't take it out on the next person. Continue to love hard, live freely, and remain honest with yourself as well as others.

Sorry, I just had to get that off my chest. :)

Tribute to Motherhood...

She represents the pillar of strength
An icon of womanhood.
One look at her and you can witness her nuturing spirit
Without her saying a single word.

She was tough on you.
Because she knew the world you were entering.
She always reminded you by word and deed
The dangers you would encounter.

"Always remember who you are",
she would often say.
While her words were stern, they seeped with guidance.
For her wisdom trumps everything that the world may tell you.
She was always proud of me when I remained true to myself.

"I just want you to do the best you can"
She would remind me.
I worked hard for everything,
Even if I did not recieve all the rewards.
Because I was motivated by her encouragement.

She birthed us physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
For remaining in our lives, she has become a symbol of the impossible.
A human being who could contain all that love
And share it so easily and freely.

You may hear her snipe and complain
Or, you may disappoint her with your words or actions.
Yet, she does not continue to stop loving you.
For she knows that you must learn through your tribulations.
But she's always there with open arms.

This woman and I have grown close.
Because we did not always get along.
In fact, she was my disciplinary.
But, throughout my life, I realize what she had to do
To trying and mold a strong, black woman.

She did not want me going through life
Suffering, Struggling, Stagnant.
She wanted me to excel
Because she visualized it the day she concieved me.
So for as long as I could remember, she constantly challenged me with love.

She is my best friend.
The closest representation of God's love, power, and mercy.
Just like God she teaches and guides me.
Like my Savior, she exudes unconditional understanding and love.

This is a tribute to my mother.
For she is a great mother, when she does not have to be.
She is great friend, when she could've remained distant.
She stood beside her children everyday of her life.

I only pray that one day
My children will look upon me
The same way I look at her today.

A Tribute to Mom.
I love you.

The Age of 25: Adult Purgatory

I have often heard my elders tell me how, "Something happens when you turn 25." They usually told me this once I turned 2o or 21. So, when the comment was made, I usually brushed it aside without a second thought. While we love Aaliyah for "age ain't nothin' but a number", we have to understand that sometimes age DOES mean more than the mere numerical indication of your time here on earth. Today, my classmate, friend, and coworker reinforced what those elders warned me several years ago. Too bad it took me this long to realize they were right.

Something happens when you turn 25. The year you turn 25, you have your friends remind you that you are a quarter of a century old. For a moment, you pass through this day as if it is another year in your twenties. But the realization does not occur at the midnight hour of your birthday. Sometimes, like me, it creeps into your mind several weeks after the birthday high. Like I said, something happens when you turn 25. I did not know that I was battling this change until recently when it was brought to my attention.

Today, I was having lunch with my coworker. As we were driving to our destination, I confided in her regarding the ackward feelings I was experiencing lately in my life. She looked over at me and calmly replied, "You are 25, aren't you?" I was surprised by her crass response. But I replied, "Yeah...I'll be 26 this year." She replied, "Of course you are going through that. You are experiencing adult purgatory. That's what we all went through in our mid-twenties, but no one really talked about it."

I swear a light bulb went off at that moment. I was so relieved, I almost cried. For the past few months, I have been struggling with this valley in my life. I am not in hell, but I'm not in heaven either. I'm in purgatory. Those things that used to fulfill me no longer do and I yearn for something bigger. For the past few months I have been waiting for something to change in my life. I could not tell you what the "thing" was nor could I accurately describe my feelings. All I could conclude was that I was feeling "blah". I wasn't necessarily in a bad place, but I wasn't in a great place either. I was in that content place. I was just "cool", which seemed to be alright until a few months ago.

Again, a light blub came on when I turned 25. It did not happen on my birthday. So, I figured the advice of my elders was not meant for me. However, it came on New Years Eve of 2009. After my traditional New Years Eve activites of going to Watch Night Service and drinking wine with my parents, I laid down in my bed thinking to myself, "Didn't I do this last year? And the year before?" For a moment, I felt like it was de'ja vu. While I experienced a lot in 2009, I realized that nothing has changed. I felt like I started 2010 in the same way I started 2009. I think it was at that moment when I started to feel ackward.

At this point in our lives, we start to question our purpose. We have roamed this earth for a quarter of a century, so we start asking what we have to show for it. We start to wonder whether we will be able to accomplish all of our goals by the time we reach thirty. You wonder whether you are really fulfilling your purpose in life. You start to wonder what you would label yourself as. You may even find yourself looking back at your life, at all the mistakes you have made over the years. You even start considering settling down and having a family, so you even view relationships a little differently. When people die, it hits you a little harder than it used to. Those things that we did enjoy in our early twenties, we have no desire to do anymore. You realize that it's "not cute anymore" to do the things you did when you were twenty or twenty one. A shift of mentality takes place, when you start looking at the world beyond your front door. In other words, the novelty of being a "twenty-something" years old wears off. And you start looking at the real you, which can be a bit scary. Then you ask yourself, "Is this all there is? Is this IT?"

To be honest, I really thought it was just me. I figured I was going through some sort of spiritual drought that was causing me to loose my connection to God. So, I started going to church more. Ironically, that did not help much. I still recieved great pleasure from worship, but the novelty did not wear off. I could not shake this ackward feeling I was having. It would creep up at night before I went to bed, or on Sunday afternoons as I was cooking. It tip-toed into my thoughts during a silent moment of the day. For a moment, I was really nervous about it because I could not identify this feeling until today.

"Something happens when you turn twenty five," my friend kept repeating. She said she went through the same thing. I asked her if it had anything to do with her being single. She replied, "No, I was with my husband at the time. So that has nothing to do with it. It has to do with you as an individual. No person can make you feel better about your situation. That's why older folks like me do not envy you ladies in your twenties." I laughed when she said this because I realize how true that statment is. Have you ever been in a situation where someone found out your age and the only response is, "Oh gurl, you are young!" or "Wow, well okay." But you can hear the pity in their voices when you tell them your age. It's amazing. I have never heard an older woman say she would go back to her twenties. I am starting to understand why.

I asked her, "Well what did you do to deal with this?" She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes and replied, "I don't know if there's really anything you CAN do." I sighed to myself out of frustration. I was tired of having this feeling of indifference. I needed some sort of formula that would help me to get over this "mid twenties desert". But she did reply, "Don't be so hard on yourself. You have at least acknoweldged that you are in this place. So that's a great thing." She continued, "Well, what could help you is to find something to get involved in outside of yourself, and write your way through this valley. Don't worry, you will get through it. Because something else will click when you turn 30 and 35 as well. Life is full of these transitions. I think 25 is simply the first time you start realizing this transfomation taking place."

I couldn't stop thanking her for the rest of the day. I am sure she was tired of it, but I found more clarity in that twenty minute conversation then I have in the past six months. It made me feel better knowing it wasn't just me. I also realized that if I felt this way, I am sure others out there are battling a similar war. You do not have to broadcast yourself. But, if you do feel this way, then I am here to tell you that its completely normal. I believe I recieved this wisdom so I may share it with all of you who need to hear it too. So, don't worry about these feelings because they are apparently part of our process for maturing into more insightful adults. I also want you to remember that you are not alone.

I suppose we just have to grin and bare it until we recieve another light bulb. We can try to take the advice of my friend, but that does not stop the nights or moments of solitude to happen. You can fill every moment of the day with something, but you cannot save yourself from your thoughts and feelings. Yet, we recognize that it is a problem that has no name and no real solution. But, as my friend concluded, "Don't worry, this feeling is only temporary. You will be fine." So I guess we will be fine eventually. :)

From week, month, and year....still nothing...

I've always seemed to be a spectator or commentator on this show premiering my life. However, the characters around me appear to be having more of a script than I am. On this show, I simply interact with these people, adding in my commentary when necessary. They play off these dramatic roles full of love, hate, and excitment. Yet I sit on the sidelines ready to play in the game. The show premiere's my life. But unfortunately, nothing is happening to me.

It seems as though the past few years have been repeats of each other. I do not know if I have seen a major change take place in the past few years. I have seen people fall in love, marry, start new careers, move to a new location, or have children. Yet, I remain in the same place I was a few years ago. It is almost as if I am waiting for my life to change. For something to alter and jump start my life.

I realize that everything has a season and a purpose. But I feel as though I have been in this season for so long, I can write the script for my life. Also, I realize that everything is as it should be. Yet as the weeks, months, and years go by, I can't help but wonder whether my season will actually start. When will I walk into my new season? When will the day come when I can actually play in the game instead of sitting on the sidelines?

This year was similar to last year, and last year mirrored the year before. My birthday's are the same, the holidays continue to have the same events, and New Years is just a reflection of the same thing that happened the year before. I have been doing the same thing on Valentines day, St. Patrick's Day, and July 4th each year for the past three years! Nothing has changed.

While I am certainly thankful for the lack of drama in my life, I am starting to wonder whether I am really living or simply going through the motions. I do not have any expectations, hopes, or dreams anymore. My daydreams do not even exist anymore. My hopes have been muffled to a soft murmur. My expectations are on life support. After all, the same thing happens day after day, week after week, month after month and year after year. Nothing surprises me anymore.

It seems as though life is happening around me instead of to me. I start to wonder whether my only purpose on this earth is to be a voice of reason for others. Perhaps I'm only meant to be that person in the sidelines motivating the players on the field. Maybe I am only here to perk up others, to fill them with positive energy so at the end of the day, I am simply trying to recharge myself from all the negative energy flooding my soul. In other words, my life isn't just in search of my happiness, but ensuring that everyone else recieves what they need while I remain empty. Then I find myself bicariously living through others or becoming excited when small changes occur in my life. If something does happen to me, then it's usually something that has happened to me before. Again, nothing new.

But I always smile to others. I try to remain positive and give people what I can, even if it's only a quarter of a cup of love. Since I am always the one people come to with their good news, I smile and share in their blessing. When people come to me for advice, I try to give them the best advice that I can. At times I want to share good news, but I have nothing to share. When people ask me what is new with me, they already know the anwser. I hate when people do that. It almost causes me to say something sarcastic and crass. However, I tame my heart and lips.

I wonder whether this is all my life is going to be year after year. Perhaps I should start accepting the invitable. Is my life going to only consist of school and work? Will witnessing my family and friends enjoy life be the only satisfaction I recieve? I need something else to provide me with joy. While my schoolwork is satisfying academically and intellectually, it does not feed my soul. My books do not keep me warm at night. While I plan to leave a legacy in my teaching and writing, is that the only thing that will keep my memory living from generation to generation?

My grandmother passed a few weeks ago. She lived a life that others want to mirror. While she is a part of my lineage, I sometimes wonder whether she would be proud of what I have done. I know she was proud of me for staying in school, but I wonder whether that's the only thing anyone would be proud of me for. Her life, her wisdom, her love will always carry on for generations to come. I have no doubt about that. I look at her life and wonder whether one day I'll be blessed enough to have the kind of family she had.

I am tired of these small, short moments of life. I am sick and tired of daydreaming most of my life instead of having those dreams come true. I'm tired of seeing a month go by, with anything positive or exciting to share. I'm frustrated with each week looking the same. One day, I want to recieve some of those prayer requests instead of simply praying for them. I hate telling myself, "It's not my time," or "Maybe one day."

I'm waiting for my life to jump start again....

Fear is the diagnosis....complacency is the drug...

We are all afraid of something. Let's just get that out the way. We spend our whole lives fearing something, whether it is a career choice, a business venture, or a relationship. Regardless of what the situation is, we are afraid. We walk in fear throughout our entire lives. In fact, we would rather walk in fear than take a risk. What a shame.

I can't say that I am not guilty of this because I am. We all are. Think about it for a moment. There is something in your life that you want to change, but are paralyzed by fear. There are a lot of factors that we can touch on that explain this fear that we have. It could be a childhood experience or a situation we witnessed in our adult lives. Whatever the reason is, it stifles our growth hindering us from reaching our full potential.

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend of mine. For so many years we have called each other brother and sister. In a sense, we are probably closer to each other than we are with our own families. Anyway, the other day he was explaining a situation he was having with a woman. Then he starts to wonder what is wrong with him. He questions why he can never keep a woman in his life. He explains his struggle with women and their reaction towards him. Usually I can answer his questions and give him adequate enough advice. But for the first time since I have known him, I honestly could not answer his questions. He was asking the same questions I was struggling with. I explained to him that the only thing he could do was continue to be himself. Yet, we both are struggling with this idea of love, relationships, and self identity. We are both frustrated with dealing with the same thing in a different body. I think we are both waiting for something in our lives to change. To break away from the normal routine. We are waiting for something to surprise us.

As the conversation went on, we realized how people that we deal with are so afraid. They are terrified to take risks with us. Obviously we are not your average man and woman. However, we deal with people who are terrified of our uniqueness. While they want to get to know us, they are afraid to take it to that next level. So, we find ourselves with these terrified individuals that we have to let go of constantly because they are walking in a life of fear. Even in the most extreme situations, there is still a need to run back to complacency even if they that we deserve one another.

Everything we do, we do out of fear. Unfortunately, we are a reactive people. Based on our environment, we react. I am starting to understand how that is not necessarily a good thing. As a matter of fact, I'm starting to think that is the worst thing we can do to ourselves because we are only reacting out of fear. So, instead of taking a risk or being proactive, we go to this place called complacency. In this location, we are comfortable. We fall back to what is familiar, even if it is destructive. Before we realize it, our fear draws us to this place of complacency. For example, you are afraid to go back to get your Master's degree even if it will help you advance on your job. Because you are afraid of the unknown, you remain in that same position on your job KNOWING you are destined for something better. So you make up some bullshit excuse such as, "I don't have the money to go back to school." Here's another great example: you met someone. She or he is a wonderful person, you love everything about them. You think they are wife/husband material. But you are afraid of investing time because you have been hurt before. So you make up some junk about, "Well, it's just not the right time," leaving them wondering what happened.

I could go on and on with examples, but it would still have the same diagnosis: FEAR. The problem comes when our drug of choice is complacency. Of course, that drug will be wonderful at first. It will cure the fear in a blink of an eye without any problem. Yet, after a while, the drug does not have the effect it once had. With any drug, you can become easily addicted to it but it has harmful side effects. For example, because you took the drug of complacency, you may never truly be happy, reach your full potential, or truly love someone else. Then you find yourself searching for that next high. Usually that fix comes from a place you have no business being into. You may find yourself taking mistresses or sleeping with various men to feel a touch from someone. Before you know it, you are drinking alcohol more than water. Sooner or later, you find yourself being manipulative on your job to ensure that your job remains secure. Some of us simply shut down, being unable to feel any sort of emotion or drive. That is the worst side effect you could possibly have...

However, we'd rather dwell in that place of complacency, even with the side effects, than actually taking a risk with our lives. I have been told that I remain safe or that I do not take risks. Perhaps they are right. I know I live in complacency from time to time, stifled by fear. I have taken some risks. Some have left me disappointed while others have fulfilled my full potential. I am not saying that we will not go to that place of complacency. But do not dwell there. Recognize that you are taking this drug of complacency. Perhaps then, we can take our soul to rehab and start living.