We Clicked

We clicked. He matched my intelligence, my psyche, to the tiniest detail. I couldn't take it. It was overwhelming and it made me feel sick. Not a bad sick. But that good feverish, excitement type sick that you feel deep in your belly. A combination of nervousness and nausea. We clicked so well, the feeling of like for him sent chills up my spine. I couldn't take it.
  He was a hot commodity. Young, black, gifted, intelligent annnnd fine? That type of fine that would cause me to check myself in the mirror for discrepancies. He was the had my heart flip flopping, and mid breath stopping kind of fine. And he was smarrrrrrrrrrt. He was the street, mixed with book, but never forgot his history smart.
  He broke all the stereotypes of the way black men spoke. Because when he answered the phone.....He sounded like a proper english kid, straight out of the suburbs, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Correct english, pronounciation, and you would have thought he was caucasian. We clicked.
  Never afraid to say what was on his mind, he was a renegade. Mad brave, spoke up, liberated, and spoke nothing but the truth. But what really captivated me is the way he lead people to the truth. Professing his love for Christ Jesus to anyone who would listen. But if he was to just stand there, with his mouth closed. You would have never known he was Christian.
   Not all christian men walk around preaching in stuffy, bright suits. Relaxed fit jeans, vans, or some pradas, leather jacket, and depending on the weather maybe a button up. His swag was sick. So sick. It made me sick. But it was that good sick.
  Looking at him, listening to him, his demeanor and fluid walk.... You would have never guessed that he was beaten and abandoned as a child, busted his gun a few times, married the streets and did time. God cleaned him up, and showed him real love. We clicked.

Have I Told You That I Loved You

Turn me inside out and allow my heart to speak. This feeling I have for you is mad deep. Deeper than the pacific ocean after 90 days of constant rain. Love is supposed to feel sweet and beautiful, but all I feel is pain.
No my heart isn't broken, or bruised, or have been toyed with. I just wish things were different and the fire that was bursting between us was lit. Again. I don't know how long I can hold my feelings in. But I feel like a dam filled with water. Except I'm bursting within.
  I think you're in a "situation" though I'm not for sure. But I know she could never love you as hard as I could. Or did. But maybe that's what the problem is. I love too hard. Care too much. Good girls never go far. But wait. Let me be fair and admit that I wasn't a good girl at all times. I had my fun. I have my ways. But I never hurt you, intentionally. Did I?
  Communication is key and we lacked a lot of it. But now I'm here, professing to you how much I love and miss you.

Heart Transplant

I'm not blaming anyone else because I know I am partially at fault. I shouldn't have put myself out there so open, so quickly. However, I did and now I have a broken heart. I wish I could have seen the knife coming straight toward my chest, then again how can I blame you. You said it yourself, that it takes two. To tango. And to get feelings all tangled...Up. And confused. Now I'm asking myself what did I do?
  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And scorned I was.  Bitter, hurt, angry and seeking payback, for the emberassment, cold treatment, and heartache I thought you caused. When, to be honest, it was really my fault. Kept putting myself out there for you to hurt me continously. First time shame on you, but second, its shame on me.
  It feels like I have a gaping hole where my heart is supposed to be. If I wasn't walking around, talking and breathing, I would think I was heartless. Literally. And you ask me, why am I so damn angry? I'm not just some bitter black woman angry at the world for no reason. I'm angry because the mistreatment, the lies, the deceit, I endured.
  But its all good. I forgive you. My heart is here, and when there is pain, there is healing.

To The Other Woman

Me and him had a rough patch, he fell weak, became blinded and settled for less. Stimulate a man's "head" and all the blood goes rushing from his head. But don't get me wrong, that is not an excuse for how he ended up in your bed. And now that he's home, you're pissed off, hurt, and will not stop calling our phone.
  At first I was baffled, confused, the first few hangups I thought it was a child prank calling and acting silly. But when them calls started after hours I knew what was up. One morning when you called at 5 am he didn't budge, I could hear his heart beating right through his chest. As he played possum, he still had the facial expression "damn, I f__ up".
  Day after day, night after night you just kept calling our house. Sometimes breathing, sometimes not making sound. I just knew if we ignored you, you would stop. But then my man picked up the phone, yet you greeted him with sensual sounds. And that's when I knew I had to put my foot down.
  He confessed, I packed my kids and my bags, he got on his knees and begged ME not to leave. He explained it was just a tryst when we separated. He got lonely, vulnerable, and horny, went to the bar for a drink and that's when ran into you. So now its time for us to talk woman to woman, boo.
Its time to let go and move on, the chances of you and him are slim to none. I built a foundation that you will never break down. 12 years, 2 kids, a home, and I'm about to have his third child. If you I'm think I'm going to let you destroy my home, you're on one. And the fact that you knew he was married, but separated, but still in love with his wife, should have told you something.
  What God puts asunder no man nor woman can tear apart. He's home now, and I will forever be in his heart.

Maybe I Deserve

I did you wrong. I severed whatever ties attracted me to you in the first place. You don't even look at me or talk to me the same. I can't even put my hand on your shoulder without you brushing it away on a sly. My apologies are as worthless as a penny with a hole in it. What can I say? I deserve it. Love is stronger than pride, but men forgive but never forget. But I thought if one forgives, then one must forget to let the healing begin.
  Maybe I deserve to come home to an empty dinner place, an empty hello, no kiss or a hug. Maybe I deserve to lay beside you at night drape my arms around you, for you to gently place it back. Maybe I deserve to try to make love to you, give you hints of seduction, by rubbing my soft feet against your legs, for you to move all the way to the edge of the bed.
Maybe I deserve, to show you just how much I love you, by kneeling down in front of you with eyes saying "Baby, let me give you some head." For you to shake your head, push me away, and say "I don't even want that".  So now I'm angry. I'm hurt. You won't touch me, or talk to me, or yell at me. At this point, I feel so bad, ashamed, and guilty. I love him so much, I don't want to lose him, so I won't even care if he hit me.
   As I sit here and cry, scream, plead, I forget I'm a queen, get down on my knees, and beg him not to leave. I grab his luggage, stand in front of the door professing my want and need for him. Deep down I deserve it, there is no maybe, its time to woman up and face the consequences. But he'll be back, if he really belongs to me. 

Apology To My Future Husband

God told me that I had already met you, but I pushed you away. The fact that all this time I was patiently waiting on a man of my dreams to come scoop me. Waiting on a man that God had for me, and only me that was made just for me. The fact that I was steady day dreaming about a tall, dark, handsome man after God's own heart. Somebody that wouldn't just love the good in me, but would also love my flaws. Telling myself these dudes I've met thus far isn't good enough for me. The man I marry has gots to feeeeelll me. You get me? I mean he has to understand me deep down inside. My hurt. My pain. I want him to understand the abuse I suffered, the street fights I've been in, the loves I've lost, and the bruises on my heart.
  That's the kind of future husband I told God I needed. That's the kind of husband I told myself I wanted. Until I had me a come to Jesus moment. Truth hurts. But when it hurts that's when its time to heal and make changes. But what blew me away is when He told me I had already met you and basically threw you away. Met you? Met who? What? I'm confused.
  I remember dreaming of a handsome man bragging about his wife. In my dream I laughed and told myself I can't wait until the man God has for me shows up. His voice was as clear as day and woke me up. You already met him and you pushed him away. That woke me up and I sat right up in stupefied shock. I couldn't believe it. I met my husband? But who?
  It doesn't even matter who. I just hope whomever you are, find it in your heart to forgive me. Forgive me for everything I have ever said to you, for whatever things I've done to you. I know you have moved on and if you did I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to marry the woman I was, either.
  Yes. "Was". Husband, I wasn't in my right mind the devil had a hold on me. I let the enemy get the best of me and it wasn't cool. Things got deep, messed up, and I thought I couldn't handle it. So I displayed anger, carelessness, distress, and hatred.
  But I'm a different woman now and hopefully we'll meet again, start all over, and leave the past in the past. I possibly belittled you, underestimated you and pushed you the breaking point. I possibly made assumptions about you, knowing I didn't know a thing about you. If you, whoever you are, was to call me tomorrow and scream at me, I would take it because I deserve it.
  If we never meet again and you move on to better things, I wouldn't even fret. I wouldn't hate, cry, mope, or pity myself. As a matter of fact, I would walk up to the alter and hug the both of you. That's how much I already love you and want to see you happy. Only if I could remember you. Please accept my apology. Please forgive me.