3.5. Letter To The Boys (An Online Dating Rant)

If you’ve ever stumbled upon any of my “random guy messages,” you knew this was coming. This is definitely a big middle finger to the typical, those who play the game, those who scheme with false advertising, those who make it damn near impossible for a girl to hold out hope for a good catch to come along.

And before you decide to judge any of the following and manifest some “epic rebuttal that will not this girl off her feet” about how women are no better…I don’t deny that girls play games, enable the ridiculously crude garbage spewed, and are highly capable of being overly sexual in order to get what they want. That being said: I’m a woman who is attracted to men and so I don’t feel the need to address the sex I’m not aiming to attract. That is a rant all its own but this one is for the boys.

Don’t get me wrong…I know for a fact that no guy will read this and be epically changed. It doesn’t work that way. I don’t think this post is going to move anyone. It’s a rant (see the title), which means I’m writing this for me to vent. I’m getting out all of the garbage that’s racing through my head. If one woman reads this and attempts to raise her baby boy to be a better man in the process…hell yeah, I won! That’s about as much hope as I can have for this thing.

I’ve been on a dating website for just about two years. In those two years, I’ve gone on less than a handful of dates and have never had a second date. I’ve had phone conversations, texting, skype conversations, and singular dates. 99% of my online interaction have been me hitting delete or “block user.”

Yes, I’m picky. A girl needs to have standards and though I will no deny I have, in fact, lowered my standards at times out of pure boredom…they always return. I read messages on a daily basis in which a guy shoots straight for the sexual innuendos, carries one conversation before asking me to come over, or wants to talk marriage and babies after a week. There is no middle ground. There is no courtship. There is no actual dating process.

Less than five dates in two years? What’s wrong with me?

A LOT!

I am messy. I have a very chaotic mind. I get bored easily. I have trust issues. I have a temper. I am territorial. I want someone who will give me attention when I want it but go the hell away when I don’t. Mentally, I am sexually driven but physically, I have little desire to actually have sex. I am always attracted to the type of guy that doesn’t want me. I’m loud. I’m far too outspoken for my own damn good. And that’s just what I can think of off the top of my head at 1am.

Well, no wonder I’m single, huh?

You’re right. I’m not going to argue with it. But pause. I asked a guy, the other day, what his flaws were and his answer: nothing. Nothing. NOTHING! That’s a crock of shit and that just made a list of flaws for you boo-boo.

I’m a bitch. I own it. I embrace it. Is it an awesome personality trait? No. But it’s a part of me. I can turn bitchmode on in .05 seconds and slap you so hard with some venomous words…ya damn head will spin, make you cry and curl up in a ball while you internally question why you weren’t aborted. Yes, I can be a viper.

This is probably detrimental to whether a guy will talk to me. Well fellas…so is swearing “I’m a good guy.” “I’m different.” “I’m not like other guys.” Do you know what all of these things say to me? You are a douche bag. You are exactly the same as all the rest. I’ve seen your type before. Call it pessimism. I call it experience. A good guy doesn’t have to say what he is. He just is and it’s undeniable.

Why are you clearly a 3 and you’re messaging someone who is definitely a 7+? I know this sounds superficial (search for that post in which I address the hypocrisy of guys saying what they want physically but girls saying the same things and being considered shallow) but I could care less. You might be a 5 on a good day. A 6 if I’m intoxicated but you seriously posted some pictures of yourself looking like a convict. Not an ex-convict. Current. Present tense, sweetie. No and thank you.

Also, feel free to shave your face, clean your mirror for that selfie, stop shooting all your pics in hats (do you have hair), stop shooting group shots so I can’t tell who you are, no club shots with five girls on you (are your slut days over yet), and stop checking fit/athletic with your keg and four chins. BE HONEST!

If you’re looking for a hookup/friends with benefits – don’t message a girl who clearly states she’s looking for a relationship. It’s a waste of time and though you may be fine as all hell…you want something different. It’s asinine to be upset with the girl when she doesn’t want to talk about her favorite position if she was honest about her intent. I get it. We’re single and we’re shopping. Some people want discount material, some people want BOGO deals, some people are bringing coupons, and some people are holding out for the best quality stuff. If you buy cheap – you will have to return to the store sooner rather than later for a replacement. Some of us want to make one trip and be done with it.

Try consistency. Try chivalry. Try honesty. Try being genuine. I know it sounds simple but it works. There is someone for everyone and though your honesty may not draw in every girl…it will attract the one for you.

Baby boys – stop messaging a woman 10 years your senior bragging about how you could sexually satisfy, provide, blah blah blah…I’ve already stopped listening. That shit might work on the Beverly Hills housewives or the ragged but the smart ones are unimpressed and have no desire to be your sugar momma.

Older men – stay in your lane and don’t assume every woman younger than you wants a sugar daddy. Shop age appropriate and stop looking for arm candy or the next incubator for your seed.

Online dating didn’t work for me. That’s not to say it doesn’t work for other people. It’s 2014 and more people are meeting their future partners online than you think. Maybe the pickings are slim everywhere and I’ve just observed the best of the worst  online. Either way, I’m over the game. I’d rather not play and just say I did.

P.S.  A special note to the guys with kids who immediately act like a complete and utter piece of trash – you should be ashamed of yourself and I hope your child learns what a man should be from SOMEONE ELSE!

Here’s to being single.

I’m out.

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2.46. The Wounded Soul – My Proudest Failure

This post is not about the many known names who have died over the course of this year from apparent suicide. Their deaths are sad and a loss to the world but there is nothing that can be done for them.  Their chances have ended. It’s sad but what can you do about it now? This is not about the unknowns who are gone from this world. Their story is no different. This is about the ones we can save. 

When I was 26, after my son was born, I suffered from postpartum depression while simultaneously suffering from an infection, which caused me to lose part of my right breast. The fake glue that was holding my doomed marriage together melted away. My world crumbled very quickly. I recall sitting in a bathroom and penning a letter to my child in which I apologized for failing him, for not being strong enough to have the desire to continue. I remember calling a crisis hotline while sitting on the curb of a dark street and telling some stranger I was a horrible piece of shit because I had a child but I wanted to die. I remember going to a hospital and asking for an evaluation. I sat in a cold, bare room, and waited for someone to tell me I was insane. After talking with Tom, he informed me I was suffering from PTSD, from events earlier in my life,  and Postpartum. When I said I wanted to die, he explained, I was simply asking to sleep…for rest…escape from pain I could not seem to get away from. I was released and attempted to pull myself out of that darkness. 

When I was eighteen, after being caught in the act, I admitted to battling Bulimia. It was a slow way out but I often hoped I would just become extremely frail and collapse and that same sleep would come. My mother told me to get over it. 

When I was 13, my father found me in our trailer in Clintondale, New York. I’d swallowed a ton of his painkillers and anything else I could find in the medicine cabinet. I was ashamed of my life. I was scared of being a nothing. I wanted to quit. 

When I was 11, I was admitted to a mental health ward, against my will (and my parents) for a mere 16 hours (a lifetime to an 11 year old btw). I’d gone in after a referral from a childhood therapist. Because I wouldn’t discuss things that were happening but implicated myself in several acts of self-harm, I was held for evaluation. I can still remember the screams and belligerent rants of those held in rooms next to me. After those 16 hours, I conned my way out of that hospital, claiming it was all an act and absolutely nothing was wrong with my home life. I learned how to lie on that day. 

When I was 5, a sibling found me on the ledge of our apartment window. When asked why I was up there, I said I wanted to die. My mother beat the ever-living piss out of me and sent me to bed. 

I have tried to die, thought of dying, hoped for dying…TOO MANY times in my life. I’ve purposefully put myself in dangerous situations, in the hopes that I would find release. Through those years and failed attempts…I never found it. 

I’m not telling you this because I want pity. Because I want you to think I’m epic and strong for “surviving.” I don’t know why I wanted to die from such a young age. I don’t know why I wasn’t “built” to better deal with the hardships of life. I don’t know why the unknown seemed so much better. 

What I do know are two things. 

  1. I was already dead. My body didn’t have to perish. TRULY, I believe I was a walking tomb. My son gave me my soul. I still struggle. I still panic. I’m still a hot mess. But I have never hoped for another breath the way I do now…as I have my son in my life. 
  2. Someday, I will die. I will not try. It will be against my will. And I will not want it to happen. I will feel pain as it all slips away because I will not see the tomorrows of my child, his children, the life I will miss. Someday, I will not have a choice. 

All of that being said…

I AM NOT AN EXPERT but I know the helplessness. I know the desperation. I know that feelings of sad hope that the damn phone will ring and someone…ANYONE will pull me back from the ledge and say, “I care about you. Please don’t go.” We all want to know that someone wants us to stay. That someone NEEDS us to stay. That our fire lights another persons world. We all need a reason to have no desire to step on that ledge. It’s ALL about love. 

The trauma that happened in my life, very early on, stunted my growth in MANY ways (so the doctors say). There are many times that I am stuck back in that mind frame of a child and I am terrified. I am frail. I am lost. It’s a fight to not go back there. To train my brain that I’m not reliving those traumas. That things are not repeating themselves. That I am capable of dealing with it IF they are. 

I am telling you all of this because we all know someone who struggles. Who is fighting. Who may be too quiet. May say the wrong things. May lash out at the smallest occurrence. May come off so angry. May push people away. May be an emotional punching bag. May live a lifestyle that is reckless. May be unaware that they are begging for help. May be pleading for rescue in their eyes but not their words. 

If you are that person…tell someone. ANYONE. Talk until your blue in the face. But keep talking. If you’re talking…you aren’t dead. AND THAT IS BEAUTIFUL. If you know someone like that…listen. Listen and really hear. You don’t need to fix it all. Just listen. Sometimes, that is all a wounded soul needs. 

Dear Suicide – I am proud to have failed you. 

Sincerely not yours…this girl. 

2.41. Random Guy Message 136

Mariah and Nick…that’s all I’m gonna say.

Guy
5/29/2013 1:24:18 AM
like that song say cute pie ur the reason y
Me
5/29/2013 1:25:23 AM
I seriously have no idea what you are talking about.
Guy

5/29/2013 1:26:03 AM
… im saying u r very attractive sorry for the misinterpretation

Guy
5/29/2013 1:30:47 AM
what brings u to this site … u fine

Me
5/29/2013 1:37:39 AM
I heard you. I very much doubt we’re going to click.
Guy
5/29/2013 1:38:22 AM
y u can’t judge a book by its cover

Guy
5/29/2013 1:40:04 AM
don’t count me out i can b the guy to sweep u off your feet u can b mariah and ill b Nick

Me
5/29/2013 1:41:37 AM
Actually, I can do what I want. In this case, I am not judging a book by it’s cover but by it’s lack of articulation. If you were a book and I picked you up off of a shelf…I would need a translator to understand you. I would ask for a refund since nothing you’ve said is remotely grammatically correct. You may want to work on that. Seriously, good luck to you.
Me
5/29/2013 1:42:32 AM
Did you just put the ideal couple as Mariah and Nick? Your standards are far lower than I imagined. Good luck with that.
Guy
5/29/2013 1:49:15 AM
I apologize if i didn’t articulate my wording through an internet site, but if intellect and eloquence is what u want. I can be that too. You are gorgeous, and I didn’t mean to disrespect you. Internet courtship may not be me strong suit, but I would love to know you. Maybe another day.

The guy in the end spelled more complete words than the guy from the rest of the message…combined.

2.40. Random Guy Message 247

I actually wanted to help this one. 

Guy: Im not that fly but i think u are absolutely gorgeous n i think ur boy is adorable n i think that u are a strong woman n shouldnt have any prob finding your match that is if most men ever grow up n stop giving us average looking yet very loyal n respectable men bad names. So how are u n did i mention u are beautiful? Lol yea i know i did just thought it might get me a brownie point to be honest

Me: I’m gonna give you some advice, because you seem nice…when you message a girl, don’t come off so self-deprecating. Be positive about yourself and the girl that is meant for you will appreciate you without the “warning” of you being “average.”

Guy: Lol hun im just honest n i dont depreciate myself cuz i know wat i am n who i am im a realist n im very confident in wat i have to offer im just up front i dont puf on a front or spit game i belive in being true to myself as i am with others . Im just stating a fact but in other areas of my life i strive far above the how u say hmmmmmm Mcsteamy type of guys n im letting the woman know if thats what ur lookin for sorry not me. Im average looking n im damn proud of it but im guaranteed to be the sweetest, most honest n loyal down to earth guy ud ever meet so wen i wat u say put myself down in looks i make up for by knowing im exactly wat all these fake n shallow chicks claime to want they just dont get a model type outa me to get it, so if ur interested dear id love to chat with u n see where it leads

Me: I think you missed my point. It is self-deprecating when you start off a hello with “I’m not that fly.” That screams lack of self confidence and no one wants that in a potential partner. To say a girl is shallow because she isn’t attracted to you is a false judgement. Everyone has their type and the girl that is meant for you will look at you and believe, in her heart of hearts, that you are her “McSteamy.” But when you set yourself up that way, you’re basically telling a complete stranger, “I think you are out of my league and I’m not attractive to myself but I have a good heart.” If an extremely obese, I mean sloppy hardcore obese woman sent you a message and said what you said to me but pointed out that she had a good heart…would you jump to know her? I mean, you have to be realistic with that. People have types, no fault in that, but you are advertising yourself here and sorry to say, but doing it poorly.

I hope you take this in the way I mean it because if I wanted to be a douche, I just wouldn’t have answered you but I did because I would hope that a potentially nice guy doesn’t self-sabotage himself continuously in the future. Good luck.

*NO CONTENT HAS BEEN CHANGED OR CORRECTED

2.37. In All Honesty

Spring is near…hell it’s Kansas so Spring may show up in August for all we know, but the overall symbolism of the season has set into full blast…kinda. Actually, it should be the opposite…the beginning of Winter. When life is ending, things die, everything is cold, quiet, and gloomy.

People say divorce is comparable to a death. And it is. The death of something you thought would last forever. Now, don’t have me mistaken with someone else; I chose to go through with my divorce…I asked for it. But I imagined it would be a rebirth. An opportunity for two miserable people to find their happiness again. What has manifested is a full blown war…a spiteful display of tyranny and a chaotic concert with nothing but hate blasting through the speakers.

 

I recently attended a class called FOCIS. Focus On Children In Separation. Sadly, that hasn’t been the case in the demise of my union. It has been an icy exchange. Something embedded with vengeance. Something VERY hard to deal with.

Before I go any further, let me make it very clear that I have no clue what I’m doing. That I’m making tons of mistakes. I am emotionally screwed right now. I have no idea how to have friendships, family ties, interactions with the adult species. The epitome of my understanding is with that of a three year old (my son) and even then…I get lost sometimes and just wish he would understand that I want to cry, to hide, to fade and not deal with the agony of breathing. But he will not understand my pain. He shouldn’t have to. He didn’t choose this. He sure as shit didn’t choose me.

During that FOCIS class, the instructor went over the 5 stages of grief, first really introduced by Elsabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying.”

  1. Denial and Isolation
  2. Anger
  3. Bargaining
  4. Depression/Guilt
  5. Acceptance

According to the instructor, the journey through these stages…on average…can be between 18 months and 4 years. 4 YEARS!!!! I slip into each one of these stages, depending on the day.

I have isolated myself despite playing the open book. I have walked away from friendships without so much as a tear. Because these people will leave sooner or later. It always happens. It always will happen. So fuck it. There is no use in holding on to people who will throw me away like garbage.

I become so angry, it’s sickening. I hate people who are happy. I hate people who complain about petty shit. I hate people who have it all figured out. I hate people who have no emotional understanding. I hate people who assume I should just deal. I hate people who pass judgement on my every fucking move. I hate people who think, for one second, they could deal with this pain. I hate people who have never been single a day in their adult life telling me to not feel completely lost. I hate people who have no courage to be alone telling me to stay strong…ALONE. I hate people who use that bullshit line, “you think you’re the only one in the world who…” No shit I’m not the only one going through shit. But I’m living my life. Is a rape victim supposed to think, “well, someone else went through this and worse so I should just get over it.” UM, NO! I hate the bullshit optimism and then the continuous “whatever” mentality when everything doesn’t go as fucking wonderfully as you’ve tried to convince me it would. You were wrong. Accept it. Admit that being a part of my life was a mistake and walk away. I’m giving you the option. Because I hate, more than anything, anyone who will stay in my life and is miserable because of that connection. Just walk.

I have bargained. I will do anything. I will die if it means peace for my son. For people around me. I will shut up and take it. I will forget. I will forgive. I will pretend to be happy when I’m not. I will do whatever…if only…

I have fallen into depression. I feel guilt every fucking day for existing. For just being alive. Wouldn’t people be so much better off if I were gone? Wouldn’t they all just be happier if I never existed? I have cried myself to sleep and screamed to a God I don’t believe in. I have begged for mercy. I have prayed on the phone. I have called hotlines. I have puked out the remnants of an empty bottle. I have lost myself in the pure feeling of being a mistake. I have been ashamed of my feelings because I have a child and I should never think of my own end. What kind of mother am I if I don’t want to jump out of bed every day to look at my beautiful boy? I feel guilt that he got such a pathetic ass excuse of a mother as me. I feel guilt that I am not better. That I don’t even know how to be better.

Acceptance is supposed to be that one when things make sense and there is a sense of peace and clarity. But in my acceptance, I have come to an understanding that none of this pain will EVER go away. My life is meant to be shit. And it will never change. It will always be this hard. It will always be this dark. It will always hurt this much.

Feel free to have a rolling of the eyes session, a “this bitch swears” moment…I seriously don’t fucking care. These are my emotions. These are my thoughts. This is my life. It is not and does not have to be a part of yours.

In all honesty, there is only ONE thing I am certain about…just one…but it is the most important thing for me to know – I love my son. I love my baby boy with every ounce of my being. I do not care if not one single person on this planet cares about me as long as my son knows I love him and I live ONLY for him.

In all honesty, my son is the ONLY thing I’ve done right in my life. The ONLY thing I am proud to be a part of. The ONLY reason I have the tiniest glimmer of hope in my heart that this life can be beautiful. As hard as the days get, I know this life has possibility…for happiness, for love, for laughter, for growth, for beauty…ONLY because he is in it.

I am a flawed human being. I am struggling to find peace in this battle. I am lost, scared, uncertain, feeling broken…

BUT I am willing to continue my journey, no matter what, because my son will always know I kept going…despite it all…FOR HIM. Here’s to healing, to growing, to figuring me out. To fixing me. One stage at a time.

2.33. He Kissed Me

And I felt like putty

Like the sky at 7:53am on a Tuesday while Bob Marley played in someones car…”No woman no cry.”

Like an empty bottle of creamy baby oil left atop an unused counter…waiting

Like a cool bottle of wine, uncorked but owned

Like a valley unpaved by mankind.

He kissed me 

And I felt like an orgasmic tigress

An unleashed heathen

A closeted slut

A pornographic master

A willing submissive

An intrigued Dom

Waiting Prey

The hungry predator.

He kissed me 

And floodgates opened

Unfaked

Unprecedented

Untouchable

Unknown

Unsure

Unleashed

Lips to lips

Exhales

Lips to throat

Inhales

Palms to palms pressed, fiercely, against cold brick

Lips to chest

Whimpers

Dreaming

Pleading

He kissed me

With every intent of staying

And fleeing

Gasping for more

My oxygen in his lungs

My everything in his hands

My world in his words

Anywhere

Anytime

He kissed me

And I was something else

Someone else

A vixen

A kitten

A little bit of both

A culmination of what shouldn’t be and what had to be

Lips to stomach

Staring at the back of eyelids

Familiarizing scents and tastes

Tongues sway

Linger

Hover

Lips to inner thigh

He kissed me 

And I watched him beg

To feel pretty lips

Below the hips

For one thrust

One drink

One…

One…

One…

2.31. Random Guy Message #402

2/11 –

Guy: Hey I’m B****

Guy: I would really like to talk and see what happens 🙂

Me: If we don’t talk, that should tell you exactly what’s going to happen

Guy: Ouch. Thanks for the honesty! (He doesn’t mean that).

2/17 –

Guy: You always this mean?

2/18 –

Me: When did honesty equate to being mean?

Guy: When its not said in a sweet way 🙂

Guy: You want to talk or not?

Me: I’ll write that down.

Me: Didn’t my previous message make it clear I didn’t?

Guy: Nope (I think he’s slow)

Me: Wow, you don’t follow along well, do you? Nope, not remotely interested.

Guy: Right on

2/27 –

Guy: Change your mind yet? 🙂

Me: No, and this is getting pretty old. I guess you like blocks, huh

Guy: I don’t know….never taken a black girl out.

Guy: Would like to though

Me: Do you actually read profiles? I’m not black. I’m Puerto Rican.

Guy: I saw that. You asked

Me: That doesn’t answer my question. If you saw that then that means you can read and if you can read then you would know I’m not black. So wanting to take a black girl out…you’re barking up the wrong tree.

Guy: Okay let me rephrase that. I have never taken any girl that wasn’t caucasian, but I would like to

Me: And that’s just great. It’s just not going to happen with me.

Guy: What do you have to loose by talking to me?

Me: My time, which is precious to me.
Listen, you’re probably a real gem. A catch. Prince Charming to some chick. You’re just not what I want. Not only am I not physically attracted to you but the extent of this conversation tells me that I would annihilate you. It’s nothing personal. I just know what I want and what I don’t want. I’m not here to fill your curiosity for what it’s like to take out a non-white girl. Good luck in finding that.

Me: Now I see why you are single. Later

OMG! Thank you sooooo much. I just got schooled as to why I’m not in a relationship. Because I won’t talk to fuglies who have brown girl fetishes/can’t read/and are thirsty as a motherfucker.

Guess I’ll be single forever. Gladly.

2.29. The Stars Shine

This post gives me great joy to write. But it also has a deep rooted past. And so, we travel back to the first year I moved to Kansas.

Working for an in-home mental health care facility, I spent hours upon hours with a new set of people while our clients slept soundlessly in their beds. Between bed rotations, medicine distribution, and breathing checks…the staff would hang out in the living room and chit chat or play hours of card games. 

J and I sat in the living room for our first overnight shift together. We had eight hours to burn before our clients had to be woken for their daily activities…all we had was time to burn. He told me he’d had one girlfriend but that was it. And without skipping a beat, he divulged everything about his deepest secrets. He was gay. But his family had raised him Baptist and his father was a preacher; a man respected in the community for his devotion to God. J had tried being with a girl to “fix” himself. But it hadn’t worked. 

“So, have you come out to your family?”

J looked puzzled. “Why would I do that?”

He explained that he knew his feelings were wrong. There was no reason in coming out because he would never live that sinful life. He would never betray his God or his family. He would not burn in hell for the lust of the body. 

“So, you’re just going to be alone forever?”

He laughed at my “ignorance,” and explained that he wasn’t alone because he had Gods love. 

“But wouldn’t your God want you to be happy?”

He said he was but his eyes said otherwise. 

Fast forward more than a decade.

An attractive, Jesus loving hipster enters my world. I immediately lean on him for all of my Godly questions. But the world that we live in can’t understand why someone like him and someone like me would ever really talk. So the rumors started. I was trying to tempt him. I wanted to bring him over to the dark side. We were probably having secret kissing sessions when no one was looking.

And it pissed me off. Because no one knew the conversations we’d had. No one knew that we stood in a parking lot at 4am talking about his love for God. No one knew that he’d revealed, he too, had felt things for the same sex but couldn’t act upon them because of his love for his Lord. No one knew that I cried for this boy and told him the story of J. That my heart broke to see someone so amazing trapped by their own love…only to be left deprived of love.

A distance built between us and I will admit that I grew to dislike him immensely. I felt betrayed. How could he open his world to me in such a way and yet distance himself from me as if I were a fucking leper? I hadn’t judged him or told him what he felt was wrong. I had embraced him and he’d turned the other cheek.

I had a moment when I thought he wanted me to shun him for his revelations. When he wanted me to be like everyone else. That would have been easier. But I hadn’t and instead…I’d been thrown away like garbage. What a friendship, I thought.

The boy moved away. And I shouldn’t care.

But I am beyond happy for this boy. I have learned that in his move…the star found his puzzle piece, has grown even closer to his God in his new love, and has learned to be honest with himself and the world he aspired to change. I watch from a distance and I am elated to see pictures and posts of pure, genuine love. My tears were not in vain. Everything turned out the way it should have and someone who is truly a gift to this world now knows it’s possible. To love with your whole heart AND to be loved wholeheartedly.

When he became a star

2.28 – Digital Dating Diary (Entry1)

Real messages from real people showing really sad attempts…

“Your son is very handsome , your not so bad yourself, im a single dad, business owner, and looking for someone to hang with in the little free time I have, so if your interested in rich Italian guys message me back”

“-May your wings lift you to the top of the world”

“Yet, a true happiness calls through the shadows of my loneliness stirring my heart to take again another chance risking pain once again….oh how I must find pleasure in the pain.”

“Priceless, you’re priceless!! No dollar amount can buy the joy & happiness you bring. You are the first lady worthy of a king, my queen. The moment I set eyes on you, I knew I would fall. You make it better! lets chat sweetheart, i would love to get to know U”

“Damn Lil momma any way u dig white boys”

“I wanna know you”

“Hello how are you doing and what movies do you like seeing and things like to do for fun maybe bowling; dancing; mini golf; playing pool; darts or anything fun like that just asking………………..”

“Hey I’m Brandon. I read your profile and you cought my eye. What is the first thing you look for in a guy? How’s was your weekend?”

“Hi i probably have no chance but i thought id balls up and message u and tell u wow”

“Wuz up. How u doin? Thought mayb we can chat n talk a lil get to know eachother hit me up.dnt b a stranger get at me”

 

I might be a bitch for how critical I am. But I’m not hoping for some random guy. I’m not hoping for some fair weather connection, intimate encounter, or sugar daddy. I want to fall head over heels in love. And so I wait…and laugh in the meantime.

2.27. Chambers

The simplicity of knowing skin is tiring…boring…undesirable. 

The complexity of knowing a mind is foreign and quickly weighing on a stone heart. 

A mix between hopelessness and hopeful prayers.

For something that will prove everything she ever believed to be wrong. 

For a glimmer.

A spark.

An ember. 

But fire cannot live and thrive from stone. 

From the cold caverns of a heart forgotten.