Tonight I watched a glass of wine tell me my past…and reflect my fears about the future. I listened to it tell me how many affairs she should have had…how many she actually had…how many he had…and how he was likely still fuckin’ around. These are things I could know without the white wine telling me…but hearing it speak…for hours it rambled on about how unhappy she was…but how she refuses to leave her house…how convenience would keep her put.
A glass of white wine? Are you serious? That would have went right through me without so much as a blink…It leads me to believe that it wasn’t the wine at all…she was drunk with bitterness…regret…and locked away anger. I sat rigid with discomfort, as I tried to put myself in her shoes…
She said, “I don’t care if he ever touches me again…he don’t have to make love to me ever again” She let the words roll off her tongue, onto her lips…and they shattered into a million pieces that could never be put back together. MY heart broke FOR her…because that’s my nightmare.
I don’t think I could ever get to a point where I didn’t care if the man I [Loved] touched me again…because if I love him…I want him to touch me whenever he can…each and every day…night. Even if it’s just a kiss on the forehead. I don’t want any empty “I love you’s”. I want…clarity. I don’t ever want to question whether I am to him what he is to me…
Yep…this is Krisaela checking in…There might be malignant Daddy Issues, if not cared for properly, they could elevate to male issues, hindering the growth of future relationships…
“Scalpel…”
Why I am (Continuation July 2006)
This is why I like a man that doesn’t hate me when I’m drunk…and why I’ll hold onto a man that doesn’t raise a hand to me when he’s drunk. It’s why I always think the worst, and feel like he’s sleepin with his “homegirl” or “Soror”. Hell…it ain’t so far-fetched…I’m not crazy. It’s why I’ll carry “I love you’s” around and never use them. Yeah…I do, I’m mad that I do, and you’ll never know! And then when it’s all over, I’ll wonder if I did! And be glad I didn’t tell you! I’m not crazy! I’m just jaded! That’s your fault too!!! You gon’ get enough of fuckin good girls over…If you care, it would behoove you to NOT let me get over you…cause in the end you gon be lookin how you had me lookin…or at least beatin yourself up for fuckin over some good pussy to say the least.
And YOU [Pen Pal]…I’ma need you to tone down the perfection. You’re scaring me!!! I have NEVER said anyone was too good for me, and I’m not finna start now.
And YOU [STILL]…admit when you’re wrong sometimes! I’m soft hearted, and you’re hard headed…yin…yang…get ya shit together…listen to reason. Slow down, stop being so destructive…I’m self destructive enough for the both of us. Just cause you know what buttons to push doesn’t mean you gotta push em! Nigga put your hands in your pockets! Be still! I’m tryna play with your belly button!!!
Why I am (Continuation June 2008)
Literally and metaphorically, I’m afraid of heights, and depths. At the first sign of a dude sweeping me off my feet, I usually reach for my parachute. When I feel I’m in too deep, I don’t think twice about jackin’ dude for his life jacket and paddling my way to the shore. That’s not to say that I’m bitter, or never give chances…it’s that half the guys I meet find it too hard to gain my trust…and those that capture it find it too easy to break.
I usually say that when a guy comes off like he cares, chances are it’s not that he wears his heart on his sleeve…it’s that he’s got a lot UP his sleeve. And yet these days…I could care less about sleeves, and how the fellas are wearing them…All I know is…I look good in his shirts…shorts…shiiiiid…I look best when I wear him out. I said, “Oh my goodness” he said, “You’re MY goodness”.
G’nite!!!
