short fiction blurb...read and enjoy. lol.

i told him i loved him today.

it tickled my ears to hear my slightly shaky voice whisper into his. tickled my fancy to know just how much i meant it, too.

i love him.

every. single. inch.

he smiled, that heavenly and sometimes mischievous look he gets when he knows he has a secret that no one else knows.

except everyone knows i love him. they knew even before i knew. or at least before i was willing to admit it.

he looked satisfied, yet hungered for more. wanted me to feed him syrupy words until his ears melted.

and i did.

fed him my sugary sweet fantasies of he and i experiencing our rocket love, except unlike stevie, we wouldn't stop. we wouldn't drop. he'd never drop me.

i took his hands in mine. beautiful hands. hands no one other than God's own secret garden could have constructed. such detailed beauty. down to his hands.

he hated when i called him beautiful. but what other word could be used to describe such a magnificent specimen? if he was not beauty's definition, then such a thing did not exist.

brown eyes pooling softly, two melted chocolate drops wrapped in a blanket of white. pristine white. as if they never saw even the smallest billow of smoke or the restlessness of a bad night's sleep.

rested and peaceful. everything about him was rested. and peaceful.

his skin was unlike any i'd ever seen. and i'm one that pays attention to the small things. the little dips, moles, tags, pimples, freckles. he has none. a beautiful canvas of brown, his skin is. smooth sailing, no interruptions, as soft and as smooth as the day he was born in it.

that's impressive. and effortless.

he brought my favorite face closer, kissed the bronze skin of my shoulder.

he always said my shoulder, my left shoulder, had character. it was sassy.

i'd laugh, give him the arduous job of explaining how a shoulder could have anything but an arm attached.

his response was always something to the effect of it being between he and my shoulder. well, my left shoulder. my right one was quite bland, he would say naturally, as if we were talking about a boring coworker of his.

god, i loved him.

so much of myself went into this union, this pairing of two troubled hearts, two confused minds. so much. i would travel. travel so much that my traveling began paying for my traveling in the form of frequent flyer miles.

he never really had a home. here, there, and on your couch was his regular residency.

and so i traveled.

wherever his heart led him, he'd be there a week later. his whimsical ideas would explode one atom at a time, lighting up his brain waves until he could no longer sit still. he had to DO. always doing. teaching. motivating. learning. helping.

i was dating a genius. i knew it too, way back then. from the first day his not-too-tall frame came into focus through the brown of my irises. i knew.

to see genius manifested in the flesh is a substantial event.

to be loved by it is monumental.

he kissed my shoulder again, whispered something to it in that dark voice he sometimes uses when he's feeling particularly frisky.

his hands, his beautiful hands, moved along deliberately, carefully, examining every square of exposed flesh peeking out of my summer outfit. bright orange tank. blue jean shorts. hair messily flowing down my back.

the 'grow out' he called it. that frustrating stage when your hair is neither straight nor curly. that stage.

"you smell like paradise." he said, burying the bottom half of his face in the top of my crown, his hands still traveling my landscape.

he had picked out my new smell. ever so often i allowed him to pick my scent, any scent, that made him absolutely have to take a second whiff. a plot to never go a day without that subtle kiss from the two plush lips occupying that beautiful space on his face.

he could never come near my neck without meeting it with soft, butterfly kisses. they usually traveled down the unusually long length of it, then back up to my mouth, which eagerly awaited his final destination.

if it was the right connection at the right moment, which it usually was, that kiss would turn into an all out passionate, sometimes steamy, love scene.

all from a scent.

this time it was purple rain.

i laughed when he showed up at the checkout counter with the raindrop-shaped glass bottle full of deep purple liquid. he laughed too, shrugged his shoulders. said he couldn't possibly pass up a bottle of perfume named after one of the greatest songs ever created by one of the greatest artists to ever create.

we laughed together. a lot. i liked it.

one of his most endearing qualities was his ability to extract the most genuine laugh from the furthest depths of me, even on the darkest of my days.

actually, i think it might have been the most endearing quality.

to always be able to look forward to a smile in someone is a powerful thing.

a very powerful thing.

i leaned forward, met his soft lips with my own pillowy pair. if such a thing as heaven existed, it was here. we were there. in this moment.

the deep breath that sighed from his being any time we were close like this, always made my heart flutter. sometimes it even stopped for a moment, picked back up when my brain reminded it that i could not live on his touch alone.

oh, but how sweet that would be. to be nourished and enlivened by his fingers, his mouth, his mmm...

oh, how sweet that would be.

we made love that would make the movies envious. his thirst, his hunger for me was unlike anything i'd ever experienced. we exchanged souls, then traded them back fervorously. falling in and out of utopian streams of consciousness, we danced among the stars, our own private tango filling the beat. i was his addiction. his love drug. and he mine.

cause you know, we were both unequivocally ...dope.


** this was just a blurb of fiction i wrote during one of my many mind spills. lol. i was going to add to this and turn it into a short story... but i don't know.

all opinions are greatly appreciated.

thanks!

hope all is fab and flyy!

hot and cold

there is just something about him that you can't leave alone.

something inside that makes your insides flutter to see his name light up your screen. your knees weak to hear his voice. you are high, floating on cloud nine. ...or maybe it's nineteen. all you know is, you are in love.

seems as though as much as you love him, though, you two always seem to lose focus. get lost in the negatives. 'we're too different' has been the theme of your relationship since you first knew each other. when you agree, you agree passionately. but for the most part, where he is hot, you are cold. where he is black, you are white.

but still, through all that, you all fell in love. deeply. as much as you both thought it impossible, love conquered your heart and his too, and much to your disbelief, you found yourself writing his name in hearts each time you sat down to write anything. discovered his name floating around in your mind during odd times of the day, and even when you were having a really bad day, the thought of him always brought a smile.

thing is, you are still a little inexperienced in your dealings with men and heart matters. you know what makes him happy for the most part, but you are still learning what pushes his buttons. and even when you know those buttons that cause steam to blast from his ears and a slight ache to well in his heart, you have a hard time avoiding them for some reason. unwittingly, you always find yourself on the receiving end of his ire for something you did.

so now, he's pissed. you hurt him. you made him mad. you have caused his belief in you, and the two of you living happily ever after, to dissipate. so, what do you do now? how do you make up for it? do you beg? plead? try to make him see that what you did was not intentional? that you would never try to hurt him purposely?

or do you just realize that whatever you do, it will never be good enough. that no matter how much you love him or how much he says he loves you, you will always be one small eff-up from losing him forever. that you cannot tame a beast. and so you walk away, with your heart bruised, but your sanity still in tact. because for all appearances, you are going crazy over this man.

so tell me... can love conquer all? or are some people just too 'different' to have anything meaningful?

dancing in a crowded room

when you met, it was perfect.

he looked into your eyes and you into his, and immediately you both knew each other was 'the one'.

finally someone who 'got' you. who understood where your heart and head was at and made you feel as though the stars had finally aligned. That God had took time to create this perfect, wonderful being just for you.

things seemed to come so easily. you both loved cheesy romance flicks (even though he'd never admit it to anyone but you), you both could solve a Rubik's cube in under fifteen minutes (you were convinced your children would be baby geniuses), you both loved to take long showers and then sit around in your bathrobes, eating freshly sliced oranges out on the balcony. you loved to watch Desperate Housewives. he loved to cook while you watched Desperate Housewives. you both wanted one child (well, he wanted one boy ... but that was just a minor detail).

anything and everything you all talked about, it seemed that you all had very similar views on the issue.

you always hoped, but always knew that the blissful feeling of euphoria couldn't last forever though. even though you hated to admit it, you were scarred. the one before him leaving his indelible mark on your heart and soul, which made you very aware that things can and usually do, eventually go sour. you thought you were healed, but soon you found you were far from it.

the fairy dust settled, and you felt you could finally 'see' him for what he was, your mind constantly telling you that there was for sure, some ulterior motive. nothing could be this good. he couldn't possibly be genuine. so you started searching; paying insane attention to what he said, how he acted and reacted to things. listening and searching for the deception, for the lies. he was after all, a man, right? and certainly the men you'd dealt with had all hopelessly failed you.


you had him feeling like the man. sweet personality, great sex, and fine as all get out. he constantly asked himself what he did to deserve such a woman. unlike his ex, you didn't yell. you didn't argue. didn't accuse. didn't even nag him about leaving his clothes in the bathroom. had to wake up in the middle of the night sometimes just to stare at you and make sure that you were real. every woman he'd ever been with had gotten something out of him. taken advantage of his kind nature. used him. and yes, he'd made mistakes in his past, as everyone had, but he was no longer that man. he wanted to be the perfect man for you ... since in all aspects you were his dream come true.

... until that day he came home late from the gym to see his belongings had been trifled through. you made sure to meet him at the door with a scowl and a serious attitude. then, you angrily threw the picture at him.

"who the f*ck is this?"

he was startled by your words, your anger. immediately the tough shield around his heart shot up. the one he'd lowered for you. his head dropped. you were just like the rest. just like all the rest.

he knew how this dance went all to well. you accuse. he explains that the picture is one he took long before he met you. that he doesn't even talk to that woman anymore. that he isn't like the previous cats you've given your heart to. you don't believe him. you yell, become very similar in behavior to a female dog in heat. he shuts down ... and shuts you out. you all stop talking ... the communication dead. then you or he cheats with someone who likes to eat oranges on the balcony and do Rubik's cubes together. then very unamiably, you all part ways.

just like all the rest.

he didn't answer you. just walked away. started the inevitable Tango to love's demise.

... and so goes the dance.

another jagged scar added to both your hearts for the next unsuspecting person to try and heal, and unknowingly avoid all the land mines from your past.

so, when and how do we stop the dance?

the envy of the world

"To be born a black male in America is to be put into shackles and then challenged to escape." -Ellis Cose - The Envy of the World



we complain.

yell. harass. drag their name through the mud and dog them out to our friends and their children.

when we think we've been wronged, we get bitter. angry and outright mean.

then we wonder why they don't trust enough to open up to us.

"girl... you know he ain't shit. never gon' be shit."

... then we wonder.

i am saddened by the phenomenon that is the whole black women against black men thing. i just don't get it. why are we one of the only communities that can't work together? can't love. grow. heal. together?

and i know, i know the rebuttals of 'well black men don't respect black women' and i know that this is a major problem in our society of 'shawty get loose' and 'bust it baby' mind sets, but i for one, can count on one hand the number of times i have been disrespected by a black man. and i know a lot of black men. and furthermore, most of them are simply brilliant in their own right.

if a man treats a woman with respect and she tells him he is 'soft' or completely takes advantage of him, while the dudes that call us b*tches and hoes get love, how do we expect them to act?

a black man is one of God's greatest gifts. i truly believe this. second only to a black woman ... of course. lol. and call me crazy, but i just believe there are far more problems for black men in america to be worried about in this life than coming home to the one person who is supposed to be their helpmate constantly telling them how much of a failure they are.

maybe if we tried to uplift. maybe if we tried to encourage. motivate. love. push. guide. make them better.

maybe if we tried believing in them. just maybe.

and yes, barack obama is an exceptional feat. but does anyone think he would be where he is without michelle in his corner, telling him "yes you CAN, baby" far before that became america's mantra?

no.

they are looked at as 'threats' in america. a threat to what, i am still trying to figure out. i will never forget my white male professor at an historically black college standing in front of a room full of black women, telling us how black men are considered a 'threat' and nothing more than a sexual being, with no real skills besides providing a pleasurable reproduction experience, even as he stood in a building no more than a block away from a whole school of intelligent, profound black men.

yes, he said that.

the sad thing is that half of the room agreed with him.

... the other half of course, got him fired. lol.

but why is this stereotype so strong? why do we not place a value on black men?

we live in a world where black men are being exterminated. and yes, i know that is a strong word, but that's how i feel, and it just makes me sad. a world where black men feel they have to rob, kill and steal (or perfect the rhyming or hooping skills) to get money ... to get women who will treat them like a man.

we live in a world where they literally barricade you in a ghetto, place drugs and guns inside that barricade, make you feel like you can't do anything else by giving you a grossly inferior education by teachers that don't care, and then lock you away in jail for doing exactly what they expect/want you to do. then we wonder why they have a 6 in 10 jail rate by the time they are in their mid-thirties.

we live in a world where even the most intelligent of black men are still considered to be inferior. still considered to have slipped into that ivy-league school on an affirmative-action pass. still not considered 'good enough'.

we live in a world where black men are considered to be the worst fathers. the missing fathers. the ones that drop their seed and leave.

the thing is ... i know a woman right now who REFUSES to let her ex see his daughter without a court appointed visit. refuses. why? because he moved on. because he told her respectfully that it wasn't working out and she didn't want to accept it. her daughter is only three but every time she sees her father or his twin brother, she sees her mother cursing them out and calling them every name under the sun except the one their mother gave them. it just isn't right. why would you plant that doubt in her head at such a young age?

there has to be a change in mentality. has to be.


... so who will save the black man? who will be his backbone when the world gets heavy? who will tell him that's he not bad ... that he CAN do? who will believe in him?

cause from what i see, it sure isn't most black women.

then we wonder.

he's mine...you may have had him once but i got him all the time ...

He might be doing you
But he's thinkin' about me
So lay that finger on another lover
And go find another brother
I know he's my man
He's holding my hand
It feels good when he calls my name
Don't you wish you had the same
Feeling disgust workin' yo' stuff
Till he thinks about mine Now he's feeling real high
You ask why Cause he's mine
Tell you something that just aint cool
Never fall in love with a man who don't love you
I wouldn't waste my time telling you something wrong
You been with him one night and now he's coming home ...



"he don't want that hoe. she was just a one night thing."

this phrase is one i've come to be familiar with among friends and family when they find their man has cheated.

it was only a one night thing.

it didn't mean anything.

he made a mistake.

maybe it's just me, but i don't think that should matter. i think the fact that he spent the night out sexing down some chick while you were at home is enough to be fired. my friends say i'm unrealistic when it comes to relationships. how dare i expect a man to be faithful for forever in 2008?

in the song 'hey ya' by andre 3000, he says "if what they say is nothing lasts forever, then what makes love the exception?"

i dunno. i just think that once you stop believing in love, there's really no reason to date or get married or even be involved in it, you know? a friend told me that 'love fades. people fall out of love every day.' and i know this is true. i've seen it. but is that because it's so easy for us to look elsewhere for it?

and what happens when one of his 'one nighters' is no longer a one nighter? or one of those chicks gives him some disease that he so graciously gives to you? why is it so unrealistic to expect a man to be faithful? and what is the point of getting married if you are just going to cheat on each other?

'feeling disgust working your stuff...'

uh, yeah right.

so let me ask you guys...


do you think it's possible for love to last through anything?

you think the 20-30 year relationships are a possibility in this day and age?

if your man or woman had a 'one night thing' ... would you forgive and forget? tell yourself 'this here is too good, he don't want nothing else?'

or would you bounce to find your 'meant to be?'

looking back.

it's amazing how you can speak things into existence.

if i wasn't a believer of that before, i am now.

i was going through some old papers of mine and read some of the 'i wills' i had set for myself in late 2005. ex: i WILL eat healthier.

i'm happy to say that MOST of them have been accomplished.

like, getting back in school to complete the last 30 credit hours i have left to get my degree.

going to more poetry outings.

getting involved in a writing program for youth.

being a published author in 2008. which is a very real possibility now, i am happy to say. yay!

learning how to have a healthy relationship.

in those papers was also a poem i wrote, entitled The Future. i wrote it during the horrible break-up with my ex (who surprisingly is not so bad now... meaning i can tolerate talking to him, even laughing with him, without getting a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach like the days of yesteryear) and basically it was just to make myself feel better. i wrote a poem describing my perfect man. and although i know no one is perfect, the very next boyfriend i got (my current) has all but a few of these qualities.

writing goals down and attaining them rocks. lol.


The Future

you tell me i'm beautiful
and mean it.
you open doors with no hesitation
you feel like the most blessed man in the world
to have me.
you introduce me as your love
you speak to me with sincerity
you trust me
you love me ...
deeply, openly, devotedly, actively
you love me.
you get turned on just thinking of my body
you treat it like a temple.
you explore me ...
spiritually, mentally, physically
you explore me.
you make the most ordinary day
unbelievably special.
you are every woman's dream ...
you are my reality.
you love me when i am at my worst
you encourage me
you believe in me.
you see my greatness before everyone else.
you bring out things in me
no one else will ever see
you pray with me
you pray for me.
you call me darling when you're upset.
you love me when you're at your worst.
you're proud to be my man.
a real man you are ...
cause you are so real.
you kiss me just because
your kisses are so soft
you knock me off my feet
you make me smile
you love to make me happy
i am soooo happy.
you crack me up so hard
i have to bend over and catch my breath.
your tears are real.
your honesty is pure.
your gaze is loving.
i feel soooo good.
i feel, so ... good.
i think you're crazy
i love your crazy.
you love to love me ...
spiritually mentally, physically
oooh ... physically
you love me.

ahhh... love.

without a parachute.

the miracle of this whole situation is that we've even lasted this long. several people, horoscopes, and our general personalities suggested that we'd kill each other before living happily ever after.
so far, we have proven them wrong.

still, i can't help but be me. i, am a free spirit. he is not.

i am completely happy. i am. but life holds so much more in store for me than this city. this state. that house on that street. i'm convinced of that.

i jump, and he is my parachute. i fall, and he catches me. i act like the 'cute girl' towards him...whatever that means, and he lets me get away with it...most of the time. he accepts me, flaws and all.

i have become completely codependent on his 'being there', no matter what.

responsible, sensitive, reliable (sometimes) are all words that have now become characteristics of mine since we've been together, words that, before him, i'd never associate with myself.

the thing is, a bird... will be a bird.

one of the only things he asked me not to do, i did. something that i knew would hurt him, but my 'act now, worry later' carefree thinking has gotten me in a mess... again.

no, i didn't cheat. would never cheat on him.

still, yesterday was the first day i felt like my rock had shifted... if only a little. i felt it move, become a tiny bit less stable. the first time i felt that if i jumped, he might not be there to catch me.

don't think i've ever seen him this mad.

"i love you. more than anything, i want to be with you forever. if this happens again, ever again, i won't be here. i just won't."

his words. when he says things, he means it.

he wants me to understand. ...i do.

he wants me to assure him it won't happen again. ...i can.

but once again, i have no clue what to do to make it better. my dna is missing the strand that handles emotional situations well. the one that tells you how to soothe, how to apologize and make him understand that i mean it.

i honestly have not idea what to do.

my parachute has a tear and i don't know how to fix it.

my heart hurts.

a question about sex...

what is sexual chemistry?

do you have to be emotionally invested in someone to have sexual chemistry?

does having sexual chemistry mean an exciting sex life 100% of the time?

is it something you can build/create/work on, or is it something that can't be duplicated no matter what?




have you ever been with someone who you had perfect sexual chemistry with?

did it make your relationship stronger? or did it only affect your sex life?

have you ever been with someone who you didn't have sexual chemistry with?

if so, how did you rectify it?




blushing ...

trying to work but thinking of you

when you put your hands here ...

how you put your mouth there ...

watching our love scenes play over and over in my mind

I think I touched heaven,

or the sky right below it

the night I invited you in ...

I want to experience you,

experiencing me ... again.

i need you in the worst way.

hoping it can be today...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

too bad i'm sick. boooooo.

hope everyone is having a fantabulous Valentine's day. :-)

muze speaks: 10 signs you're dating someone else's man.

it's that time again folks, time for another Public Service Announcement.

i've been home sick with the flu (boooo, i know. it sucks.) and i haven't even logged onto blogger since i last posted, but a recent situation has caused me to pause my bed rest and speak on it.

i have a cousin. very pretty girl, but young (well younger than me) and kind of naive. well she and i went to a spoken word event way back last summer where one of the poets did a piece, and she was immediately enamored with his smooth words and beautiful face. we'll change his name for sake of liability, lol, and call him mohammed. after mohammed did his passionate piece on how women should carry themselves as 'queens' and not club bunnies, (swoon, i know) and made his way to the back of the small club, my cousin informed me that he had until we left to talk to her or she was going to go introduce herself. it was her first time going to poetry with me and i knew i had heard of him before, but i didn't know him personally, which was funny because i just about know everyone in the detroit poetry scene.

anyhoo, at the end of the night, my cousin and my friend who also came with us, got onto the elevator because mr. mohammed was busy talking to a few guys there. she was disappointed, but i told her he would probably be there next time also. when we got out to the parking lot, i totally forgot i had to run back in and give some pictures to a friend of mine from an event she'd asked me to photograph. my cousin and friend weren't comfortable with leaving me behind even though they rode separate, so they waited in the car. and who should get on the elevator when i was coming back down but mohammed himself, and a few other guys. he kept looking me up and down and smiling until finally i said,

"hi. i really enjoyed your performance. do you have a cd?"

he smiled and replied "no, i don't have one but i will make one especially for a beautiful lady like yourself."

i offered a half smile and didn't say anything, just continued walking to my car. didn't want this man to think i was flirting with him. i genuinely thought he had talent, and he kept staring at me, so i felt like i had to say something. lol.

turns out he and his friend were parked right next to me, and i was parked right next to my cousin. she saw him and said, "excuse me, come here for a second." all seductively.

he walked over there and my friend and i exchanged glances but didn't say anything. they talked for a good five minutes and then he gave my friend a number and that was that.

fast-forward to two days ago. my cousin and mohammed have talked almost every day since that day, they've gone out, dated, been intimate, all that jazz. of course all this is AFTER i called her that very next day after she met him and told her that a friend of mine who is a friend of his told me that he was very married, with two kids and another on the way. "i'll keep that in mind." was her response. apparently she asked him and he said he wasn't and that was good enough for her.

two days ago, she called me crying. "oh my god he's MARRIED!!!!" his wife just had a baby!!! i can't believe this!" i looked at my phone in disbelief, but refrained from uttering the most-appropriate I TOLD YOU SO. she was genuinely heart broken and just couldn't believe he had been lying to her. even though everything she told me about him throughout their short relationship was chock-full of signs that this man belonged to someone else, she refused to acknowledge them.

so that this apparent deception doesn't happen to another 'innocent' victim, i have decided to give my thoughts on how to know if your man is also someone else's man. having six brothers has afforded me a lot of knowledge on this subject unfortunately.

1) he gives you a cell number or work number only.
-this one is tricky because a lot of people don't give or even have, home phones anymore. unless of course they have a family. in her case, he gave her his work number only, the reason being that he 'had unlimited calls on that number and they didn't care who he talked to.' liar. if you can only reach a man through his private work number, something is definitely up.

2) you have never been over his house.
-i think this one is kind of self-explanatory. if he has a wife, girlfriend, or just a main chick (luda!) living with him, odds are he can't just invite you over anytime he feels. she didn't even know where exactly the man lived. sad sad sad.

3) you've been over his house, but only twice and it was slightly 'weird'.
-was his place unusually large for just him? were all the bedroom doors shut tightly? was there an absence of pictures? a home with absolutely no pictures almost always means he's hiding something and he already cleared them out before you came. odds are he won't let you up in his bedroom at all, and most of your intimate nights are spent in hotels.

4) he can rarely spend more than a few hours with you at a time.
-if he always has to run off to some 'meeting' or family function or complains that he has to get home to get some rest, beware.

5) he always complains about his 'ex' as if their breakup happened yesterday, but says it was a while ago.
-if his mind is still consumed with how horrible his 'ex' was, she's probably not an ex, and was just cursing him our a few hours ago.

6) weekend dates are few and far between, and if you talk to him on the weekend, he's very short.
-this one was a constant with my cousin. he would not be available at all during the weekend, and when he was, he was short, vague, and sometimes speaking in hushed tones. call him on it immediately. if he can't say your name, and every other word is 'uh-huh, yeah okay', investigate immediately.

7) you've never spent a holiday with him.
-he always has a business trip, or family coming in town, or his cousin's wife's grandma died and he has to go out of town to the funeral. mmmkay. this one can be weird because if you haven't been seeing each other for very long, then maybe he just isn't comfortable spending a holiday together yet. this is highly unlikely though.

8) months later, you still haven't met his family and only two of his friends.
-those two are the ones that are vicariously living through him and would never ever tell him to stop cheating. they may in fact be egging him on. most families, however, would scold him and make him feel so guilty about it. and they'd probably treat you like the hussy he picked up off the street if you did meet them.

9) he has your number saved in his phone under an initial or some other name that isn't yours.
-that is not your 'nickname'. if he has bob in his phone under your number, or doesn't even have your number in there at all, raise your eyebrow, fold your arms, and make him explain. you can even throw a neck swivel and a lip smack in there. lol.

10) he never uses his credit card or answers his phone in front of you.
-if he is married, best believe his wife is seeing his credit card statements, and is probably in charge of making sure all the bills are paid on time. if his phone never rings when you're around, it's probably on silent. look at his ring finger, is there an indent or a tan line mark there in the shape of a band? i mean, i'm just saying.

okay ladies, there are more signs i'm sure, to tell if you are dating someone else's man, but these are the ones that i think are most obvious and that i've witnessed happen to people i know. so, if your man is doing three or more of the things on this list, check him! lol.

Sliding Doors...III

if you haven't, make sure you read part one and two to catch up! happy reading!


August 2001
seven years earlier...


You can do this. You have to do this. ...I can't believe I'm about to do this.

A barrage of doubts constantly assaulted Jade's mind. She had to keep reminding herself that she was here for one purpose. She couldn't think about it. She had to just do it. That was the hard part though. She stood backstage, futilely attempting to adjust the immodest reflection staring back at her through the makeup-stained mirror.

Who was this woman?

This was a woman on the verge of a breakdown.

"Joy, ready in five. Don't be nervous. " Big Time stuck his head in the doorway and held up five thick fingers, a platinum band encircling the last. Him and that damn pinky ring.

Big Time was so... Hollywood. Standing there with his dark aviator shades on and Pharell-esque outfit, you would think him more an LA boy who liked to surf and brag about his role as extra #4 in Gone in Sixty Seconds than the seedy owner of a strip club called Daddy's House.

"I don't know about this, Big." She said uncertainly, almost convinced that she would not be able to go on stage.

"Sweetheart, you look...edible. They're gonna love you. Get out there and make it happen. Trust Big on this, okay?" He said as he walked over and pressed his hand on the light purple sweater hugging his bird chest.

That 'Big' would be any part of his name was simply amusing.

She sighed deeply at the turn her life had taken.

Looking at her reflection one last time, she resolved to do this. She had to do this. "Alright, I'm ready."

*****

The woman on the stage was entertaining enough, but definitely not living up the the club's reputation of having 'The finest women you'll ever see up close in person'. That adage had gotten a laugh out of Nigel when he first read it, but when he found himself driving around aimlessly tonight, that line kept popping up in his mind.

Now, he wanted them to hold true to their promise. So far, they'd faired okay. But this one on stage was not doing it justice.

"Drink, honey?" The sexy Latina waitress smiled down at him, offering a tray of assorted alcoholic beverages.

"No, I'm cool. Thanks." He said, returning the smile and placing a ten dollar bill on her tray anway.

When the tall, brunette woman known as Lexstasy exited the stage to a chorus of whooping and clapping from the table of drunken men in the corner, Nigel was ready to go. Driving around had helped him clear his head, think about the life-changing decision he was about to make. He stood up and prepared to make his exit, glancing back at the main stage as the DJ announced the next pole-twirler. Her name was 'Bliss'.

His glance turned into a double take. And that turned into an all out stare. She was perfection.

Perfection stood fifty feet in front of him, wearing the hell out of a white and... rhinestone? bra and thong fringed get-up. She was focused on what appeared to be him as she slid to the floor and wrapped her legs around the silver pole.

He took a seat. Ten more minutes couldn't hurt.

*****

She couldn't believe she was doing this. Couldn't believe that she was actually dancing around a pole in a room full of people. More so, she couldn't believe how good she was. Her body moved with a fluidity she never knew she had. Looking at the amount of tips she was collecting almost made her feel better. Almost.

Then there was the man in the back. He was devilishly handsome, with dark eyes and strong features. And he was staring. Intensely. She wondered if she would need to get Slam to handle him. She'd heard the horror stories from many a girl about the men who didn't think a dance was enough. The men that wanted to get personal.

She finished her routine and collected her tips, glad that it was over. Her mind was a blur, her spirits low, and her feet hurt from the four-inch heels she'd just stepped out of.

"See, nice and easy. You're a natural, babygirl." Big Time smiled and gave her a wink as she went back into the dressing room, already over this whole thing.

"It's gets better girl, you did good for your first time. Soon you'll just learn to tune everybody out and focus on your money." Candy, a longtime dancer at Daddy's House whose ethnicity no one knew, offered her words.

The self-proclaimed go-to girl for all things related to the House, Candy appeared to be the most confident and surprisingly comical one of the girls; "It just ain't a strip club if there isn't at least one Candy. I make this biyotch official."

She offered Candy a smile, but all she wanted to do was exit as quickly as possible. She stuffed the money in her purse haphazardly. She didn't even want to count it before she left. She just had to... get out.

*****

"Nigel, where are you?" Toni's voice was no less severe than it had been earlier when he left her place.

"I'm out. What do you want Toni? You've already said enough." Nigel just wanted to go home, rest, and forget about the heated discussion that had transpired earlier between he and his drama-queen girlfriend of one year.

"Nigel, we need to talk. You can't just up and leave out while we're arguing like that! Where are you?"

This was not what he needed right now. This, was something he could do without.

He opened his mouth to respond but the words were stolen when he saw Ms. Bliss herself walking hurriedly down the sidewalk on the side of the club. One of the giant bouncers he had seen inside was standing in the doorway, watching. She turned back one last time before she reached the parking lot, waving at the huge man.

"I'm fine Slam. Thanks. I'll see you later." She called out.

The giant now known as Slam nodded and waved "Alright Joy, have a good one baby." He said as he turned and went back into the club, closing the door behind him.

Nigel stood where he was, abruptly brought back to the moment by Toni's squealing voice. "Nigel? Nigel! I know this fool didn't hang up on me." He heard her mumbling.

"Toni, let me call you back, okay? I'll call you back in a minute." He hung up before she could protest, and walked back towards his car. His eyes were still on the new ivory-colored Honda Civic that the woman he only knew as Bliss had gotten into. It was still sitting there, idle.

Despite his strong desire to, he wasn't going to approach that woman. Nigel Richardson did not stalk strippers outside of nightclubs. He wasn't that desperate, no matter how fine she was. And strippers were definitely not his kind of woman.

Toni was his kind of woman. Toni was his woman. Smart, educated, and classy. But she was so much of a headache and now applying unbelievable pressure on him to marry her and start a family after only one year. He was only twenty-seven. He he had three more years to enjoy before he would even begin to think about being someone's husband. If he was really supposed to marry this woman, wouldn't he feel it? Wouldn't the stars and sky light up with her name every time he looked up? Shouldn't something be different about this relationship than the previous ones if it was truly worthy of nuptials? He had a lot of thinking to do. The ride to her house would be a slow one, full of every detour he could possibly think of.

He pulled off slowly, his thoughts still consumed with his rapidly-declining relationship with Toni. When he looked up, he slammed on his brakes just in time to avoid hitting the speeding, ivory-colored Civic on its passenger side.

He sat there, waited to see what she would do. In that instant he decided that he didn't need anymore aggravation tonight. Even though he wouldn't have minded meeting her, he hoped she would just keep it moving. The appearance of two jean-covered legs and sandaled feet swinging out of the driver's side affirmed that his trip to Toni's house would be delayed once more. He reluctantly got out of the car.

"Oh my goodness I'm so sorry!I didn't even see you I was all off in my own world!Are you okay?I'm so glad we didn't hit each other!" The beautiful woman was frantic with run-on sentences.

Nigel put his hand up in assurance. "It's okay, it's okay. Calm down. No one was hurt. I wasn't looking, so I should be apologizing to you." He said, his irritation immediately dissolving upon seeing her loveliness up close.

Jade stopped suddenly, realizing this was the same man from earlier. Trying not to panic, she took a step back. "Oh okay, well... I better go. Sorry again." Jade said, wishing she had never gotten out of her car. She kept forgetting she was in New York now, not the safe suburbs of Cali that she was used to. She scolded herself silently.

"No problem. And your dance, it was uh, nice." He said, offering her a smile.

"Thanks." She said, placing her hand on her door handle.

He lingered as if he wanted to say more, his hands resting on his car door. His eyes didn't look so menacing anymore. Maybe he wasn't so dangerous. He was fine, that was for sure.

Seemingly deciding against it, he opened his car door.

"Hey!" Jade said loudly, walking over to him. Now that she had deemed him harmless, she couldn't let all this gorgeousness just walk away. "By the way, my name is Jade." She extended her hand.

"I thought it was Joy?" He looked confused, remembering the bouncer calling her name.

"A girl's gotta have secrets, doesn't she?" She responded coyly.

He nodded in understanding. "I suppose. Well Jade, you want my stage name or my real name?"

A slight laugh escaped her lips. "Either one will do, as long as it comes with your phone number." She said flirtatiously, proud of herself for being so bold.

"Ha. Well, since you asked so nicely." Nigel smiled, reached into his car and got a business card. "I'm Nigel." He said handing it to her.

"Oh you're a lawyer? Impressive. You can't be single then." She said, her eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"A man can have secrets too you know." Nigel said mischievously.

A big smile pulled from the corners of Jade's full lips. "Touché."

She glanced over his card. Looked him up and down. Decided right then that she would be calling this Nigel character. "I'll be in touch." She said with a wink, turning to get in her car.

"Yeah... we'll see." He said, and drove off with a vision of sweet, sweet Bliss.

brown skin...revisited.

this picture would be so sweet if i had my afro when we took it. ^^ shame.

this is a repost, but i was just asked to read this at a poetry venue. ya'll think it's good enough? i've never done it before besides in front of my friends and a couple family members...so this will be interesting. i'm nervous!!

it's called Brown Skin....

your skin
reminds me of smooth rides
down my favorite secret path,
no speed bumps, no potholes,
just long, unadulterated,
brown terrain.
your skin
draws me near,
i can't help but touch it.
smell your fragrance-
the mixture of strong, real man
and freshly changed baby.
i inhale,
breathe in the essence of
your skin
as smiles creep from cheek to cheek
revealing 32 perfect pearls
and the dimple in your left one
where my lips nestle
when i kiss you as you sleep.
your skin
feels like silk
that has been a little worn..
not quite as soft as mine
but, man soft,
kissable.
tightly drawn over
perfectly sculpted cheekbones
that lead to bright white eyes
that sparkle when you smile.
your skin
that is almost the same exact shade as me.
that sometimes gets
white with ash
but i just smile at another reason
to touch
your skin
as i spread baby oil
and massage the brown glow
back into
your skin
ripples down your torso
over abdomen muscles
that coil when you laugh
as you're teasing me for being
'ms. horny toad',
not realizing that only makes me
want you more.
i love
your skin
that covers biceps
hardened from lifting
all night at work,
but still fit me perfectly in their crook.
your skin
that tastes of....
indescribable man candy,
my favorite flavor.
your skin
that i love to kiss
lick, suck, caress
under covers
with the light on
so my eyes can still adore
your
brown skin.

annnnnd... ya'll got me on a roll with that Sliding Doors story so much that i practically have a book written! lol. shame on it all. i will post the next chapter tomorrow and a few more after it. then ya'll might have to buy the book...lol.

peaces people! :-)

at your request: Sliding Doors...pt. II

Nigel was restless. Sleep deprived, bitter, and jealous. He didn't even feel like himself anymore. This couldn't go on.

After leaving Jade and his brother to celebrate alone at the party, he drove. Drove around the city staring at the illuminated sky until he felt some semblance of relief. The cool night air nipped through the slightly-lowered window, matching that which resided in his chest each time he saw Nathaniel and Jade together.

This, this had to cease.

He wanted to see her, needed to see her tonight. If only for a moment. If only to tell her that this situation had to be remedied. If only to tell her that he had to tell his brother, and sooner rather than later. This was upsetting his soul. But he understood that Jade needed his patience. That right now might not be the best time to tell his brother that she was leaving him for his twin. For now, he would just drive.

***

Tired was an understatement. Jade was exhausted. The celebration had lasted well into the late hours, with Nathaniel's insistence on speaking to and thanking everyone personally for their part in his win. As the small clock on her nightstand beamed a neon-blue 1:30AM, she could think of nothing but sleep. She needed to rest and clear her conscience. Nigel's presence at the party had unsettled her mind, as was the case anytime he was near. Day and night her thoughts floated his way, torturing her with memories of his syrupy voice. His smile. His eyes. Those piercing eyes. Nigel had managed to penetrate her impermeable exterior with one simple look. The look that constantly told her, pleaded with her, to end this situation.

"Tell me to leave you alone and I will. I swear I will. Just tell me Jade. Tell me you don't love me. Tell me that even if you do love me, you don't want to continue this. Tell me that, please."

They always met in the same place. Neither showing a shred of worry about their illicit affair being uncovered, save for the various aliases the room was put under. Not even bothering to leave the city, they stayed at the beautiful Omni hotel along Detroit's expanding riverfront. Room 210. Oh, if the walls could talk. While Nathaniel was off at meetings, functions, and campaign gatherings, Nigel had been greedily exploring her innermost regions, fervently making her call out in pleasure and shame all in one breath.

"Honey, do you think your parents will be available for brunch with us tomorrow? My father thinks it would be a good idea for us to all get together now that the campaign fury is over and we have some quiet, even if it is just momentary." Nathaniel was in the their master bathroom, removing his political uniform and readying for bed.

Jade sighed. Where there were Nathaniel's parents, there was Nigel. She removed her slinky black dress, carefully returned it to its home on the silk-cushioned hanger before she answered.

"I'm sure they are, Nate. I'll give them a call in the morning. That should be nice." She tried to sound sincere, but Nate noticed her monotone response.

He walked over to her, his navy boxers the only clothing separating their skin. Nate was a beautiful man in his own right. Tall, sinewy build, and smooth almond skin that had driven women to the polls in record numbers. A look of worry affected his striking features. That there were two of him was simply amazing.

"Jade, is everything okay baby? You've been looking a little out of it the whole night. Do I need to call Dr. Grossman?" He kissed her soft skin, guided her to the bed. "Here. Sit."

"No, no. No worries Nate, really. I'm just tired. That party took a lot out of me, that's all. I think she wants me to stop moving and just lay down for a change." She said, her hands gently stroking the underside of her naked brown belly.

"Well, what she wants, she gets." Nate responded with a smile as he laid Jade down and took her left foot in his hand. Relaxation became her closest friend as his large hands began kneading and caressing her freshly pedicured feet.

"Nate, you're too good to me." She said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. A pang of guilt hit her so hard she had to turn her head away from his affable hazel eyes.

"Ah, nothing is too good for you, my love." Nate's usual reply to that remark resounded in her head.

***

She heard the buzz, but was unsure what it was. Then it buzzed again. She opened one eye, shifted in the covers. The blue numbers on her clock read 2:38AM. Her phone's illuminated screen competed with the blue numbers, adding another buzz to the silence.

Nate had his back to her, fast asleep. He'd been having those dreams again though, he could wake up in a panic at any moment.

And this could only be one person calling her so late. She'd forgotten to silence her phone before she went to sleep.

"Hello?" She sounded groggy, a rough whisper of a voice.

"Jade. We need to talk." Nigel's voice sounded morose, hollow.

Oh boy. He was in that kind of mood.

She deftly slipped out of the covers and went into the bathroom. Closed the door softly behind her, making sure dreams of his future presidency were still dancing across Nate's REM.

"Do you know what time it is? Are you crazy? I will talk to you TOMORROW Nigel."

"Jade, this cannot go on. This is upsetting me, my peace, and it's going to compromise my relationship with my brother. I need to talk to you. Please."

"Nigel, I--"

"I'm outside Jade." He interrupted. "It's a little cold out. Just put a jacket on and come talk for a minute."

"Outside? Outside of my home? Nigel, please don't do this now."

"Just come outside Jade."

She heard the click and sighed heavily. This was definitely getting out of hand. If Nigel didn't want Nate finding out about them, parking in front of their house at 2:30 in the morning was NOT the way to do things.

When she opened the bathroom door, Nate lay unmoved besides the slight rise and fall of his chest that proved he was breathing. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she grabbed her black wool jacket and hurried out the door.

This was beginning to be too much.

Sliding Doors: a short story.

His heavy locs swayed against his back with each footstep, like he had his own personal wind machine following his every move. The well tailored black-on-black tux he wore accentuated his broad shoulders well and could not hide the rippled body that Jade knew rested beneath.

Or maybe it was just her imagination.

"You look...beautiful. I meant to tell you earlier, but you were...busy." He said, that familiar sexy voice reminding her why their phone conversations always lasted longer than they were supposed to.

He stood facing her, fighting every instinct in his body to pull her in his strong embrace and kiss her until her soul blushed. He wished the doors that separated the decadent ballroom from the large balcony they now stood on were not glass. He wished no one existed right now but she and him. Then he'd be happy.

He was close now. So close she could smell the jasmine oil that he had used on his hair earlier mingling with the strong, sexy scent of his Curve cologne. She could almost hear his heart beating. She was sure he could hear hers, seeing as it was thumping double time. She looked into his dark eyes. She'd never seen eyes that were completely black. Piercing. Nigel could have a whole conversation with his eyes. Right now they were telling her everything that she already knew was in his heart.

"Thank you." That was all she could manage nearly two minutes after his original compliment.

She peaked around him, looked through those doors, saw people of all races there, fake smiles celebrating with expensive champagne and boring conversation. The only thing she was enjoying about this night was the moments alone with Nigel. This moment.

Out in this night air, the ambiance was perfect. Nigel looking like the African god he was, the music from the live jazz band playing inside fighting it's way through the glass doors, and soft, romantic lights lining the entire balcony.

"Why don't we just skip out on this. We don't need to be here. I need you. Been thinking about that beautiful body of yours ever since I saw you in that dress tonight." The lust in his tone was unmistakable. The love in his eyes was, too.

"They are honoring your brother, Nigel. We can't just leave. He worked hard for this, we should be supportive." She said, trying to convince him and herself at the same time.

"I think I've done a damn good job at being supportive, Jade. I won this campaign for him, after all. All things considered, I'd say I've been more than supportive." A flash of anger seared in his eyes as this passed his lips.

He had been supportive. He'd done all the dirty work that Nathaniel had refused to do, for merely twenty percent of the cost of what a real campaign manager would have cost his brother.
But that's what brothers did, right? They were supportive. Still, she grabbed his hand, kissed his cheek gently.

"I know baby, and soon you won't have to worry about meetings, arrangements, conferences, speeches, nothing. After tonight, you can relax a bit."

At least she was able to prod a slight smile out of him. Not enough to convince the dimple in his left cheek to show itself, but enough to let her know that it had helped.

He looked down at the swell beneath her silky, black, designer dress. At three months, she was beginning to show.

"How is my little king doing? You feel alright? He giving you trouble?" He asked, letting a deep breath escape.

He placed a large, manicured hand on her belly, gently rubbing in circles. He didn't care if anyone saw their closeness. She was his woman. Didn't care about the uppity crowd inside that would frown upon this moment.

She smiled. "You don't know if it's a boy or a girl, Nigel. I think it's a girl. And she's doing just fine. I think I'm almost over this morning sickness, God help me."

She knew the exact day and moment that their little gift had been conceived. She tried to stop the slight shudder that ran through her body when the memory of that steamy night, of Nigel's mouth softly singing to every part of her mocha flesh played in her mind, but she couldn't.

Nigel inhaled. The scent of Jade's perfume and the glow of pregnancy that almost illuminated her angelic face made his attempts to stay decent in public almost impossible. His insides quaked for this woman. He shook his head, amazed at the power this one woman had over his heart, body, and soul. He needed her like he needed air.

"We should leave, Jade. Please. Only for a moment. I don't care about this party. Don't care about Nathaniel right now. I need you tonight, right now. I need to get out of here." His low, husky voice was almost pleading now.

Jade stood up straight. Took a step toward the glass doors separating her two realities.
"We can't just leave. Nathaniel needs us. You know that."

Just as his lips parted to counter her statement, he heard the heavy doors slide open, jovial jazz music escaped and wafted into the starry abyss. Nathaniel's cheery voice followed.

"There you are, my love. I've been looking all over for you. Why aren't you inside enjoying the party?" He was happy, nearly tipsy, riding high on his win in the mayoral election tonight.

Nigel smiled. Began speaking before Jade started stuttering. "Hey, brother. I had to steal your wife for a moment. Brought her outside. She looked like she needed some fresh air. Just making sure the little one in the oven is alright. But, she's fine. I guess you can have her back now."

He walked towards his brother, grazing Jade ever so gently as he passed. He gave his twin brother a strong hug. Looked into a face that mirrored his own. If it weren't for Nathaniel's hazel eyes and short hair-cut, no one would be able to tell them apart. He felt the jealousy coursing through his body like a fast-spreading disease. He had to get out of this place.

"I'm gonna get out of here, man. Still have a lot of work to do. This is only the beginning, my brother. Make sure you get some rest tonight."

"Sure thing, man. And, thanks for everything, Nigel. I owe you one....or seven hundred." Nathaniel said jokingly.

"Yeah, that's about right. But don't worry, I'll cash in on that soon enough. You all have a good night. Take care, Jade." Nigel said with a nod, and disappeared into the ballroom, where a party was still going on.

Jade watched his locs sway away, in total shock that her life had come to this. Her heart was beating so loudly, she could barely hear Nathaniel speaking to her.

"Baby, you okay? How do you feel?" He asked, placing a large manicured hand on her belly and kissing her lightly on the cheek.

She looked down at her stomach. If she didn't look up into his concerned hazel eyes, if the fourth finger wasn't the home of a platinum wedding band, this could be Nigel's hand.

"I'm fine, babe. Let's go inside."

am i THAT old fashioned?

what's so wrong with getting married?

no, i'm serious. i'd really like to know.

having conversations on this matter with friends both male and female has caused me to think that something is wrong with me for actually being in a healthy, normal relationship and looking forward to getting married.

the general consensus is that marriage is for suckas. the relationship climate for black men and women is especially dire. the women have started to say eff marriage in the same rates as black men have been.

am i really the only romantic one left out of my whole group of friends? when i smiled and was describing how i'd like my future wedding to be, my friends had a collective look of 'she's so stupid' plastered on their faces. i mean is the single life of clubbing, random guys, and random hookups that great that you would NEVER want to get married?

the men look at marriage as a 'ball and chain' or like my ex used to say, "having a wife is like having a parole officer that you have to check in with every day." jerk. lol.

most women think it's old fashioned and even unrealistic to expect to be happily married and have given up hope in men, so therefore vow to have just as much single fun as men have.

"i'll date, i'll even have a semi-relationship with someone, but seriousness is not what i'm looking for right now." is what one of my friends told me. she is 29 and has one child, which is fine, but how old are you going to be when you finally decide you want to settle down?



so what's the point of being in a relationship with someone when you're in your late twenties to early thirties if you have no intentions on marrying that person? maybe i'm just old fashioned. that would be news to me. lol. have i been thinking i was cool all this time when i'm really just an old-fashioned loser? wow.