Okay people! Time to get over yourselves! ...After you've suffered one horrid break up after another you have dramatically decided to call it quits and give up on love *inserts dramatic pause* forever. Now you're listening to Kanye West's 808's and Heartbreaks and the acoustic version of Evanescence My Imortal on repeat every morning before you head to work, angry ass Eminem rappin to you before bed and queen of hurt Mary J. Blige every time in between. Now you're bitter and shouting "Eff Love!" from the mountain tops like Rihanna did back when Chris Brown slapped her daylights. Unfortunately it is so easy for some people to fall into that trap.
After having your heart broken, you can become so bent on that person you loved and how hurt you felt that you get stuck and forget to move on AND on top of that now that you have decided that you will no longer be giving anyone else a chance to make you happy, that next person that you shut out may very well be the person God has waiting for you but YOU just missed them! You repeat over and over again how much it hurt you to have your heart broken and you vow to never open your heart to another person again. But when you shut your heart off to people those wounds do not heal. You actually get accustomed to carrying that hurt and you become numb to the pain. The wounds will remain and you won't even realize how terrible and bitter you really are until somebody asks you what your favorite song is and your reply is "Cleaning Out My Closet" (Eminem) O_o The next person will try to get close to you but you can't because you are carrying all that anger in your heart.
Nothing can heal a broken heart but opening it up again for a chance to be loved. Besides being a heartless fool, there is really no way to prevent a heartbreak. The only thing you can do is learn from your mistakes and try to do your part properly next time. Learning from your mistakes is a key part of life. That's how we grow and that's how we gain wisdom. It also makes for interesting stories to tell later.
Now... If you go from one relationship to another repeating the same things and allowing the same crap from different people, den das ya business. You may not be able to control the other person in the relationship but you can control what you will and will not allow. Learn to respect yourself and don't expect anything less than what you deserve. Never short change yourself or settle for bullshit and keep in mind that there are a lot of bullshitters in disguise out there but you can protect yourself by getting comfortable with just being you. Know your strengths and weaknesses. KNOW YOURSELF! Read a book. Get a new hairstyle. Listen to something else besides Mary J. and 808's. Do something! But do not rush into anything with anybody. Be friends first and put God first! Be sure. Take it slow. If they want you, they'll wait so you have nothing but time. Love is not something to be taken lightly but at the same time nobody should have to miss out on something that beautiful. Good Luck!
Showing posts with label Truth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Truth. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Honesty
I have a problem with honesty but its not what you think! Tho I stand before you fully clothed I ask that you appreciate my body of words as I readily expose myself to you in this most artful form of nudity.
Honestly... for years I have been running from myself. For years I have hidden my tears, fears and depressions behind false pretenses. Frustrations and emotional suppressions made me weak. All in the name of playing my role in a faux production of perfection seeking the affirmation of positive review from critics that I wasn't even sure existed!
You think you know me? All the You-Should-Let-Me-Love-You's and the I-Want-To-Be-Your-Man's wanna wife me and always askin "Why won't you trust me?" and "Why won't you let me in?" How do I tell you that when you touch me I am just a child again and I remember welcoming unwelcomed touches to private places. That innocence was stolen from me by members of my own family. Through my minds eyes I watch as my young eyes grow wide as my young mind processed words declaring that they hated me... That diary... These images 24 years later still come back to haunt me... So when your hand met my skin and I jerk away involuntarily this is in fact the place it takes me.
My truth is not as beautiful as my black skin but as deep as the the feeling I put behind the act of my eyes closing and my hands reaching up to cup the back of your neck or my lips when they curve into yours. My tongue sliping into your mouth searching for much more than the taste of your saliva but praying that if I could just kiss you deep enough I could capture your soul and place it right next to mine so you would fail to see how deplorable and disgusting I really feel... but you did see me and you placed your hand to my cheek. and when you touched me I only felt you! And you accepted every part of me and told me everything i had been trying to hide didn't matter... He called me his black butterfly and placed me on the highest branch in the tree of my own infinities and inceptions. Then I realized that I am perfect because I am imperfection and because he loved me unconditionally I believed him.
Honestly... for years I have been running from myself. For years I have hidden my tears, fears and depressions behind false pretenses. Frustrations and emotional suppressions made me weak. All in the name of playing my role in a faux production of perfection seeking the affirmation of positive review from critics that I wasn't even sure existed!
You think you know me? All the You-Should-Let-Me-Love-You's and the I-Want-To-Be-Your-Man's wanna wife me and always askin "Why won't you trust me?" and "Why won't you let me in?" How do I tell you that when you touch me I am just a child again and I remember welcoming unwelcomed touches to private places. That innocence was stolen from me by members of my own family. Through my minds eyes I watch as my young eyes grow wide as my young mind processed words declaring that they hated me... That diary... These images 24 years later still come back to haunt me... So when your hand met my skin and I jerk away involuntarily this is in fact the place it takes me.
My truth is not as beautiful as my black skin but as deep as the the feeling I put behind the act of my eyes closing and my hands reaching up to cup the back of your neck or my lips when they curve into yours. My tongue sliping into your mouth searching for much more than the taste of your saliva but praying that if I could just kiss you deep enough I could capture your soul and place it right next to mine so you would fail to see how deplorable and disgusting I really feel... but you did see me and you placed your hand to my cheek. and when you touched me I only felt you! And you accepted every part of me and told me everything i had been trying to hide didn't matter... He called me his black butterfly and placed me on the highest branch in the tree of my own infinities and inceptions. Then I realized that I am perfect because I am imperfection and because he loved me unconditionally I believed him.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
My truths on Love
LOVE (noun)
1. Strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties.
2. attraction based on sexual desire: affection and tenderness felt by lovers.
3. Affection based on admiration, benevolence or common interests.
4. Warm attachment, enthusiam, or devotion.
5. Unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another
LOVE (verb)
1. To hold dear.
2. To feel a lovers passion, devotion, or tenderness.
3. To like of desire actively; take pleasure in.
4. To thrive in.
5. To feel affection or experience desire
For some reason most of my friends and family think that I'm a rude, heartless, asshole, who does not believe in love. They have good reason to describe me as such. I have given them no reason to feel otherweise. All my life thus far I have made it clear that I do not want to find love or get married and that I just don't need a man, period. I feel like the time has come for me to set the record straight by stating how I really feel about Love. I DO NOT HATE LOVE. Love is wonderful and beautiful. As a matter of fact, the idea of love is enough to make me tear up so I'm positive once I find it I am liable to cry full out-snot and tears all over the place. So "why?" do you ask, do I insist on playing the "tough girl" routine? Well thats easy... I know myself! As hard as this is for me to admit, I love VERY hard. Maybe a little too hard. I also know most men my age are not looking for any type of relationship. Most just want to have sex with as many women as possible. I'm a smart girl. The calculation of those two facts just don't add up.I don't like to be played with at all. So instead, I use my sarcasm, rudeness, and hardness to guard myself from being hurt. I am famous for shutting men down from trying to get to know me. I refused to give them a chance to know me because for me getting hurt is not an option. Yes I may be an asshole but you will very rarely if ever see me cry because a man cheated or lied to me. I had enough of that and I'm only 24! This is how I protect my heart people! Get over it! ..But now that I think about it, I could have very well turned away some man that I could have shared something beautiful with.
There are only a few men who have gotten past my barriers and were able to take a look into my soul and I'm sure they will tell you that I am not actually a heartless freak but my heart is warm and I do bleed just like any other woman. I am actually really very soft *shaking my head as I type* I love writing poetry, most of which is written about love. I like R&B music. I love chocolate. I actually really do like kissing and cuddling very much, and I'd rather have a mans arms wrapped around me at night. I hate sleeping alone. I also would rather burn some Yankee Candles and make love than workout my frustrations at the gym. For those of you who know me are probably reading this looking as if I've written it in some foreign language but this is the truth. I'm too old to keep pretending that Love is not one of the most beautiful things on this earth.
There you have it. I have removed my armor and opened up just a little about what I really think about this love thing. By the time I hit publish everything will be back to normal but at least you know the truth... that Ms. Tough-Guy is nothing but a fake. I apologize for any inconvienience.
1. Strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties.
2. attraction based on sexual desire: affection and tenderness felt by lovers.
3. Affection based on admiration, benevolence or common interests.
4. Warm attachment, enthusiam, or devotion.
5. Unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another
LOVE (verb)
1. To hold dear.
2. To feel a lovers passion, devotion, or tenderness.
3. To like of desire actively; take pleasure in.
4. To thrive in.
5. To feel affection or experience desire
For some reason most of my friends and family think that I'm a rude, heartless, asshole, who does not believe in love. They have good reason to describe me as such. I have given them no reason to feel otherweise. All my life thus far I have made it clear that I do not want to find love or get married and that I just don't need a man, period. I feel like the time has come for me to set the record straight by stating how I really feel about Love. I DO NOT HATE LOVE. Love is wonderful and beautiful. As a matter of fact, the idea of love is enough to make me tear up so I'm positive once I find it I am liable to cry full out-snot and tears all over the place. So "why?" do you ask, do I insist on playing the "tough girl" routine? Well thats easy... I know myself! As hard as this is for me to admit, I love VERY hard. Maybe a little too hard. I also know most men my age are not looking for any type of relationship. Most just want to have sex with as many women as possible. I'm a smart girl. The calculation of those two facts just don't add up.I don't like to be played with at all. So instead, I use my sarcasm, rudeness, and hardness to guard myself from being hurt. I am famous for shutting men down from trying to get to know me. I refused to give them a chance to know me because for me getting hurt is not an option. Yes I may be an asshole but you will very rarely if ever see me cry because a man cheated or lied to me. I had enough of that and I'm only 24! This is how I protect my heart people! Get over it! ..But now that I think about it, I could have very well turned away some man that I could have shared something beautiful with.
There are only a few men who have gotten past my barriers and were able to take a look into my soul and I'm sure they will tell you that I am not actually a heartless freak but my heart is warm and I do bleed just like any other woman. I am actually really very soft *shaking my head as I type* I love writing poetry, most of which is written about love. I like R&B music. I love chocolate. I actually really do like kissing and cuddling very much, and I'd rather have a mans arms wrapped around me at night. I hate sleeping alone. I also would rather burn some Yankee Candles and make love than workout my frustrations at the gym. For those of you who know me are probably reading this looking as if I've written it in some foreign language but this is the truth. I'm too old to keep pretending that Love is not one of the most beautiful things on this earth.
There you have it. I have removed my armor and opened up just a little about what I really think about this love thing. By the time I hit publish everything will be back to normal but at least you know the truth... that Ms. Tough-Guy is nothing but a fake. I apologize for any inconvienience.
Monday, September 24, 2012
The Story Behind A Bitter Woman
Why claim to be real with her or pretend to be a friend to her? Deceiving her. Melting her like wax melts before a flame. Shaping her…raping her…. Taking her heart that only beat for you with love and crushing it in your fist leaving her broken and unfit to live. Stabbing her… killing her… How dare you repair the pieces of her shattered heart? Put it all together just to tear it apart. Why take her love unconditional so beautiful, and pure… manipulate it, corrupt, and transform it into something unrecognizable not unlike Hate which now seeps from her pores and open wounds. Hating her self for being so stupid. Hating him for not accepting her love and taking such delicate care only to trick her. Not taking into account that love is blind, still a gift nonetheless but after what she’s been through she ain’t tryina hear that mess. Her anger becomes sadness. She desperately needs somebody to hold her but she refuses to have any man caught up in her drama. She won’t let him help heal the cuts, tears, and punctures. Pains he did not create so she remains in pain and each day the hurt grows stronger.
She tries to heal herself but possesses of no love to clean her filthy wounds that were inflicted by you. Infection results and every part of her is saturated with unfathomable feelings of Worthlessness and Hopelessness regarding her own self in low esteem. The infection finally reaches what is left of her heart which barely beats... slowly pumping out the poison that will now sustain her. Instead of killing her it changed her. The very genetic makeup of who she was and who she was meant to be has been replaced. She is now what she believes to be a strong woman. Angry, bitter, and overly independent… Rage and resentment engulfs her... a storm that will forever remain brewing deep within her being. She has become an unnecessary soldier in an army that does not exist… fighting for a cause that is just a little more than insignificant. She is ready to start a war with anyone who will respectfully approach her. Suspicious of any man who would dare say he loves her. Now cloaked in ice, in a home built from darkness. Living among the shadows. Afraid of Loves light, she bathes in the blackness of the night.
She tries to heal herself but possesses of no love to clean her filthy wounds that were inflicted by you. Infection results and every part of her is saturated with unfathomable feelings of Worthlessness and Hopelessness regarding her own self in low esteem. The infection finally reaches what is left of her heart which barely beats... slowly pumping out the poison that will now sustain her. Instead of killing her it changed her. The very genetic makeup of who she was and who she was meant to be has been replaced. She is now what she believes to be a strong woman. Angry, bitter, and overly independent… Rage and resentment engulfs her... a storm that will forever remain brewing deep within her being. She has become an unnecessary soldier in an army that does not exist… fighting for a cause that is just a little more than insignificant. She is ready to start a war with anyone who will respectfully approach her. Suspicious of any man who would dare say he loves her. Now cloaked in ice, in a home built from darkness. Living among the shadows. Afraid of Loves light, she bathes in the blackness of the night.
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