Take the Stairs.

I watched their eyes tangle with one another’s from across the room…he stood sipping his drink, undressing her with his eyes. She…sat desperately grasping at the shreds of fabric, hoping no one noticed she was standing there naked. The second he took his eyes off her, she made her way to the door, hoping to get some fresh air and gather her thoughts. He soon followed and slipped into the elevator behind her. As the doors began to slide shut, I saw him push several buttons, guaranteeing a longer trip than usual. I’m sure he pressed his body against hers, and ran his fingertips over her lips. I’m sure she couldn’t help but to push back, and return every last kiss he gave her.

When the party began to fizzle, I finished my drink and headed to the elevator. When it arrived, I let the guys from the band on first…but with their instruments, I realized I wouldn’t fit. Opting for the stairs, I bid them all goodbye, and made my way to the door that led to the stair well. I took 3 steps down but froze at the sound of whispering and soft moaning. I slowly eased closer to the rail in order to look down and see who I had almost stumbled upon. Though I was shocked at the scene, I wasn’t surprised to find the elevator love birds going at it. Quietly, I stepped back and made my way out of the stair well.

Flustered by my discovery, and not looking where I was going, I damn near ran a woman over trying to get back to the elevators. I apologized, and was even more embarrassed when I saw that it was a familiar face…

“Have you seen…” Her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’ve been looking all over for him…can’t find him anywhere…”

I knew exactly where he was…but there was no way I could tell her…

“No…but I’m sure he’s been up and down, probably looking for you…you just can’t seem to catch him…”

I tried to give a reassuring nod as I stepped onto the elevator even though I felt guilty. My cab was waiting downstairs, and the whole way home I thought about the risk, and whether or not anyone saw us sneak away.
For what it’s worth, it was worth it.

Rehab

So…I made it 2 weeks without it…I’m happy (for now, provided I don’t relapse) in a bittersweet kinda’ way. Kenny, Law and Don would be proud of me. (welcome back Don btw…words can’t express how much I missed your writing, and insightful advice.)

Non-committment was just the tip of the ice burg I soon found out. I had to give up my drug because over the last 2 months I found myself extremely insecure…to the point that I could no longer find any happiness (pause, lol…someone once pointed out that the word happiness has Penis in it) within myself. My “happiness” was once or twice a week alone at home with him while he played Madden or 2K…there were things bothering me, but where he was, I was home…and whatever problems I had were always placed on a back burner cause I couldn’t bare to have to face them. Everything was on my end, it was all MY fault. IIIII was insecure. IIIII grew deeper feelings. IIIII agreed to where we were headed (nowhere). IIIII let it go this long. I didn’t feel like having him remind me of that. Didn’t want him to show me how much he didn’t care, and how unwilling he was to change any dynamics. These were things I KNEW. But I couldn’t deal with having them spoken…so I stayed quiet.

The first week was HARD. I spent most days uneasy and sometimes even nausous. (Like the feeling you get when something bad is going to happen) it was like morning sickness…because like clock work, it was the first thing I’d think of when my eyes opened in the morning. I just wanted my best friend back.

This week…I’m more at ease…it helps not seeing him or his name as often. I get the urge to hit him up sometimes, but I know better. At this point I’m sure I wouldn’t be welcome either way. He’s all anti emotion and what-not. But it’s been cool…I’m starting to see more things for what they are, and not what I want them to be (like I used to) and it’s done me well. I love the kid, but I can’t have him dangled before me. *wipes brow* Rehab…I’mInThatThang

Birthday Revelation

I’m typing this miles up in the sky…on my connector flight from Charlotte (spent 3 days in Cleveland) back to Dallas. My birthday is in a few hours. I’m gonna press my words now, and then forget about them for tomorrow. A beautiful woman is growing more beautiful, wise and mature by the day, and tomorrow we’re gonna celebrate that.
But, simply put, I deserve soooooo much more…and this whole lop-sided deal where I ACT like I don’t know my worth ends now. I’m tired of acting like Rose in the Joy Luck Club…putting someone else’s love on a pedestal, like it’s worth more than mine…when nothing could be further from the truth. My love is patient and understanding. I’m fully aware that where I’m at right now is completely my own fault. I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt, and even more than that, I got comfortable. I put on my “Noh” smile, hid feelings, and took what I was given without questioning it. But that’s done. I’m going home and getting my house in order. I’m dolling myself up for ME, going out on dates, cooking and getting appreciated. I wanna go out, I wanna stay in…I wanna not feel tied down to nothingness. Trust me, this isn’t an entry to bash him…he’s a brilliant person…one of my favorite in the whole world. But I can’t make excuses for my actions anymore…

So now…selecting sweaters for fall and winter. If I’m lucky I’ll just find one perfect coat that goes with everything. been window-shoppin my ass off lately!!!
*waves @ Kenny and Law* Thanks for the ears and lectures. I’m good!

Happy Birthday to who? Meeeeee!!!

2 Poems in One.

Wouldn’t say I hate you if I wasn’t thinkin bout you…
And purely outta anger say I’m better without you…
Constant excuses give me reason to doubt you…
To make you doubt me, I make friends and go out too.

But, Even when out, feelin the need to text you,
Bitches leavin you notes, givin me urges to check you,
Hoe’s, groupies and Boppers lined up to sex you,
So I stay on edge unless I’m standin right next to you.

And,
Even then, more possessive then I care to admit,
For Girls Raised In The South, I keep a pot full of grits,
Never used to be this way, but now it seems I got bit,
By the baby mama bug and common sense took a hit.

Now steppin out her shoes, and back into mine,
Flaca never plays the victim–she commits all the crime,
Finna click over and tell her, “If I want him, he’s mine”
“But I don’t, and you shouldn’t, why you wastin ya time?”

I started writing this poem about Jay back when we were still Fred & Wilma…but as I finished what I expected to be the last line, my homeboy’s gf calls me to ask if I’m messin with her man. Thaaaaat’s when everything switched. But on a sidenote, why girls (is she still a girl at 28?) call your phone and ask if you’re sleepin with their man is beyond me. This is my theory. If you took the time to obtain my number, dial it, and ask me that…you’ve already made it up in your mind what it is. I can easily say no (cause I’m not…eew) but that’s not gonna make you believe me or feel any better. And if I say yes, then what? Do you say, “oh, okay, I was just wondering”? and hang up? No…