“A secret may be sometimes best kept by keeping the secret of its being a secret.”

You ever avoided asking a question because you already knew the answer and just didn’t want to HEAR it spoken out loud? Yeah, that’s me right now. Reveling in the bliss of feigned ignorance you might say. But he knows that I know……….

For all that he shares with me, he keeps a large part of himself and his life private and it makes me feel like an outsider. Even though he constantly tells me that I’m much more than that. I don’t press the issue because love is about allowing him that freedom, but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t wonder. I’d be lying if I said that I believed him.

And so the moving around begins. The going back to black. The beautiful setting of the sun. Thank God for secrets. For private joys and private hurts. For nobody knowing but me……….

And so I creep. I fade into the shadows of his life. Tucked away in his pocket where I imagine he keeps me for both easy access and entertainment purposes. I spend my time analyzing and overanalyzing our every interaction, no matter how trivial it may be. Concluding that he no longer needs me, I feel as though my work here is done. And yet, there isn’t a thing he could say that would make me love or desire him any less. I’m here to stay. Even though I’ve already been gone. 


Well Actually…….

“Far more crucial than what we know or do not know is what we do not want to know.”

Sometimes you can know too damn much. Other times, you can just THINK you do. Know, that is. You can just THINK you know. I feel this way when it comes to sweeping generalizations. There is nothing more hilarious than a sweeping generalization. Well, maybe there is one thing: the #WellActually . For all the stupidity encapsulated within a sweeping generalization, there is an equally formidable gaffe in the refutation. For several reasons. But mostly because in my experience, sweeping generalizations are almost always made during the course of some informal discussion in an informal setting. Rarely is this the time for clinical expertise to abound. So when the #wellactually appears, it’s almost comical. Mainly because “Who are you trying to impress?”

Growing up I was told that what’s understood doesn’t have to be explained. Only now am I beginning to realize that sadly, when dealing with people, very little is actually understood. And as such, virtually everything has to be explained. So let’s start at the beginning:

1. My Grandmother was right. Opinions are indeed like assholes in that, everybody has one, and yes, most are full of shit. So relax.  Everybody calm down. No one said YOU were wrong, so stop trying to always prove that you’re right.

2. Chuck Palahniuk was right. Nothing is static. Everything is evolving. Everything is falling apart. So with this knowledge, accept that sometimes what you thought you knew, is not what you know. You’ll find that conversations flow a lot easier when you keep this in mind.

3. The Romans were right. Exceptions prove that a general rule exists. While you can always find an exception to make YOUR point, truth is usually that if we in fact examine your exception closely enough, we’ll find that the rule simply doesn’t apply. This does not negate the validity of said rule though Boo.

It is my most sincere belief  that if you keep these three things in mind when conversing with others, you’ll find life and conversation to be less serious and more hilarious. If you don’t, what can I say? A belief ain’t shit but an opinion and I’ve already told you, my Granny was right. 🙂

The Gambler

“Man is a gaming animal. He must be always trying to get the better in something or other.”

Love is a sport. A true exercise in athleticism and dexterity. And the older I get, the less agile I find myself to be. The pain of losing, whether real or imagined, leaves scars. As a narcissist who is overly concerned with aesthetics, I can’t afford any more scars. But in love, there’s always that risk as someone has to win and someone has to lose, right?

Losing. Winning. What do these concepts even mean in a game that has no real rules? I’ve still yet to truly figure that out. So I rely on that which I feel and it seems simple enough really. If winning is getting what you want, then surely losing is NOT getting what you want.

But as I lie here reflecting on the love I’ve lost, one thing becomes crystal clear: winning is losing. Getting what I want has always led to me not getting what I want. Why? Because cheaters will never win, nor will they ever prosper. Loving without rules is cheating the most important player in the game: me. There ARE rules and unfortunately, if you want to win, you’ve GOT to play by them.

What can make life and love so difficult sometimes is the fact that rules often can and do change as players do. More specifically, as the players’ intentions change. So if winning is the goal, you’ve got to know when to hold ’em. Know when to fold ’em. Know when to walk away. Know when to run.


“Other people’s appetites easily appear excessive when one doesn’t share them.”

The Jewish have a saying, “where there is too much, something is missing.” I wholeheartedly agree. I woke up this morning reflecting on love languages. I first read Gary Chapman’s book some 10 years ago and identified my love language as “Acts of Service.” Ever since then, it has been easy for me (or so it seemed) to identify those who love me from those who do not. What I failed to realize until recently however, is that I was mistaken in my assessment. See, recognizing my love language simply means that I realize what it is that makes me feel loved. Mistakenly I’ve believed many times that I WAS loved, simply because I FELT loved. I couldn’t have had it more wrong.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me there is nothing worse than realizing you’ve been abused. Yes. Have been. Past tense. Because often times when you’re in the thick of it, you don’t see it. I mean, after all abuse is really nothing more than an excessive display of some action right? In my case, it was those acts of service.

Those protective acts that I thought were so sweet in the beginning? Those are the same acts that sent me running for the hills in the end. Because they were excessive. And in looking back,  I realize that all of
the money, the trinkets, and even a lot of the acts were used to manipulate and exploit me. You live and you learn though. *shrugs*

While my love language hasn’t changed, I have learned to pay more attention to the love language of others.

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Acts of Service
3. Physical Touch
4. Receiving Gifts
5. Quality Time

In my case, the abuse I suffered was a desperate attempt to gain my love. I wasn’t speaking his love language. I learned that I give love the way that I best receive love: acts of service. Only, nothing I did mattered. That’s because his love language was “words of affirmation.” Well by the time a relationship becomes abusive, let me tell you, the hardest words to find are affirming ones.

I’m not so naive as to think that the abuse I suffered was my fault. I do however, acknowledge that I could have been more in tune with his love language. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have felt the need to try so hard. Lord knows he tries so hard. *shudders*



“Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.”

I love this man so much. My God it hurts sometimes. Mostly, because he deserves so much more than I feel capable of ever giving him and yet, he chooses to love me. His dreams are my dreams and his fears are mine own. Our love is like nothing I’ve ever known before but everything I’ve always dreamed. He allows me to just be and for that alone, I couldn’t love him more.

I think I love most how we’re not bound by our love for one another. We’re free to fly high knowing that when we land the other will be there with open arms………. waiting. It feels amazing. Love is so amazing.

Amour expulse jalousie…

“Jealousy is a terrible thing. It resembles love, only it is precisely love’s contrary. Instead of wishing for the welfare of the object loved, it desires the dependence of that object upon itself, and its own triumph.”

I can’t tell you when we first acknowledged each other, because I honestly don’t know. I initially noticed his exchanges with another woman and thought that he was incredibly funny. Then one day, we were joking amongst ourselves. I suppose I never really expected things to evolve beyond friendship. There were so many things between us. There ARE so many things between us and yet, here we are. In this place. I sometimes wonder what is wrong with me. Surely this can’t be what I think it is. What I say it is. What he says it is. What we want it to be. Only, it is. It is every bit what we say it is and yet, it is so much more. It is exactly what we need it to be.

The french say that love expels jealousy and I must say that never have I ever believed that more than I do in this moment. As I lie here alone in my bed putting my thoughts into prose the one thing I am not is jealous. In knowing where he is and what he is likely doing, I am simply hoping that he is happy and fulfilled. Maybe selfishly I hope that he is thinking of me as I am him, but that’s about it.

In my experience it isn’t love that makes us yearn for more. No, it is love that convinces us that we are content with what we have. Fear however, challenges that belief. Fear makes us desire more because love in and of itself is not enough. So we throw off our contentment and search. But for what? Something more. Anything more. Until it becomes too much.

Jealousy is rooted in fear. We fear that we’ll lose that which we’ve come to love and so we grasp tighter and become more demanding, ultimately extinguishing the very love we cherish and desire so strongly to protect. But I’m not afraid. Why would I be? Only death can keep him from me and me from him. So I rest assured in knowing that no matter where he is right now or what he is doing, I could never lose him. So I wait. For our hearts to meet again. To beat together again. In time.

I can’t be sure…………

“Doubt is to certainty as neurosis is to psychosis. The neurotic is in doubt and has fears about persons and things; the psychotic has convictions and makes claims about them. In short, the neurotic has problems, the psychotic has solutions.”

The song says “I had some problems and no one could seem to solve them.” But man, ain’t it amazing what love will do when you least expect it? I was minding my business y’all. Trying to purge my life of this parasite called marriage and get back to happy. I wish I could tell you who in the hell left the gate open. I sincerely wish that I knew. I’d give them a sweet soft kiss on the lips. Cause this thing that I’ve found? Well, this thing that has found me I should say. My. God. I don’t even know how to begin to explain it to you. I mean, it’s like sunshine on a cloudy day. You know? Like having the month of May when it’s cold outside. Yeah, like that. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.

Cause love changes. In the beginning it’s everything you need and all that you want. But it’s not enough. Only you don’t happen to notice because it’s exactly what’s been missing. It quenches and refreshes but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t also expose you for everything you are. And are not.

I am strong. I am stubborn. But oh am I weak. And so very insecure. I know this because I have yet to accept this as my reality. No, I am not secure. I wonder every day if this shit is for real. I wonder if it’s a game. I wonder why I bother. I wonder if I should retreat……every. single. day. And just as I think I’ve got it figured out……he reels me in again. In that sweet, soft, sexy kind of way. I can’t say no y’all. I’d be lying if I told you that I even tried. It’s my duty to say yes. It’s my pleasure to say yes. I am honored to tell him yes. So long as no one ever knows………..