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.

anemic

being emotionally anemic is hard.
especially when you have someone
relying on you with such fervor...

-to supply their heart's beat.

every step you take has to be right.
every word said so fitting;
a big task that has me drained.
growing weaker by the day.

-i cannot pump your heart and mine too.

this anemia is affecting me.

so much effort goes into being your lifeline
that i neglect myself,
cause internal bleeding
that i cannot afford.

i can't be your sole source-

this anemia is affecting me.

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.

once upon a vanilla bean ...

vanilla is one of my favorite flavors. possibly the world's best flavor in my opinion.

seriously.

vanilla ice cream? absolutely love it.

vanilla candles, shakes, cookies, soy milk, icing, candy. i will even only eat the white chocolate cookies n' cream hershey's bar.

i love it that much.


... but i've never been with a vanilla bean. outside of the flyy world they are known as white men.

seems like i'd like them too, right?

i mean, i've been on dates. but only with one guy. in high school. he was hott though, whew.

so hott that all the white chicks were mad at him for going out with me. ha!


well, i had my vanilla bean blast from the past about a month or so ago.

he strolled into my job casually, tousled hair covered by a U of M cap, black t-shirt displaying the superman logo, and jeans, looking like any other 20-something vanilla bean local. i smiled and greeted him before i realized who he was.

"oh my god. you work here?" he was excited.

"brian. wow. how have you been?" i smiled harder. up close, he was just as beautiful as he was during high school.

his smile was wide. "i've been good! you look. wow. you look great. i can't believe you work here. thought you'd be in hollywood somewhere by now."

"ha. i wish. i see you still like superman." i responded, remembering the superman emblem he had on his car when we were younger. can't remember the kind of car it was, but i remember that emblem he was so proud of.

he was only in the bank because his mother had 'forced' him to get up and come make a deposit for her. now he was pretty happy he came though.


seeing him made me wonder. what if i would have taken him seriously when he asked me to be his girlfriend? what if i had answered the many calls he made after i told him i'd think about it? would we have stayed together? would we have been the cute, open-minded interracial couple and had little choconilla babies? would i have liked him as much as i like vanilla-anything else?

the thought alone is mind-boggling to me.

i have to admit, one side of me was curious. the other side however, knows that the only thing on this planet more beautiful than a black man, is a black woman.

"are you single? i am. and i'd love to take you out to dinner." he said, pulling out his nifty i-phone. i'm assuming to input my number.

i told him about my book, and of course about my boyfriend. he was clearly disappointed, but i made him promise to buy my book when it comes out. it was really amusing to know that he still would like me after all this time.

guess i thought it was just a phase.


...funny thing is, my coworker knows him as well. she informed me the other day that according to myspace, he is newly dating a very pretty black girl.


... i like to think i was the inspiration.

ha.


-have you or would you ever date interracially? more specifically, a vanilla bean or bean-ette?


- the song you're hearing is one of the most hilarious songs i think i've ever heard. his name is stephen lynch. a comedic musician that i saw one night on comedy central and just had to download this song. he's officially the coolest vanilla bean for writing this song. lol. no offense to all the vanilla ice cream ladies ...

I only like black girls and brown girls, the café au lait
Caramel girls, and mocha girls just blow me away
If your a nubian, I want you to-be in every fantasy
But if you're a whitey, say nighty-nighty, you're just not the girl for me ...


he seriously cracks me up. all his songs are pretty hilarious.

isn't it funny how vanilla beans are black? lol.


hope everyone is flyy and fabulous!

should have read the fine print.

Okay okay
I give.
I can no longer handle the stress
the mess
the arguing

so...
I give.

That's right, I give.
I give up all my friends
male friends of course.
Because since they're male
they HAVE to be up to something, right?
Platonic friendships do not exist, right?
Right.

so... I give.

Oh, the outings I attend?
I give those up too.
Because what on earth do I need to see people
that I talk to on a forum everyday for, right?
Sure, we all share the a passion for poetry...
but MALE poets only write poems to get women, right?
And women only go to see the male poets, right?
Right.

so... I give.

I give up hanging with my best friend...
she's too pretty. And I'm pretty right?
So naturally, two pretty women will attract
waaaay too much attention from other men...
and other men are the ENEMY, right?
Right.

so... I give.

I am hereby giving up my freedom...
the time spent at poetry venues
will once again be right here with you.
the once-a-week gym workout is null and void too...
the lunch with a guy friend I've known for twelve years...
ladies night out with my girlfriends...
all wiped out.

I give already.
I give up my right to do what I want when I want.
I give up my right to talk to interesting people..
I give up my friendships... new and old.
I give up my poetry...
i give up my life...
Because, after all, those involve other men right?
And evverrrrybody knows that no other man on the face of the earth
can be trusted around YOUR woman, right?
Because that's what I am, your possession, right?

And look what I'm gaining!
I've found the ONLY man on the planet that will faithfully love me AND treat me right, right?
So of course it's worth it, right?
Right.

so... f*ck it.

I give.

na na now that that don't kill me...

after all of the stealing and cheating
you probably think that I hold resentment for you
but, uh uh, oh no, you're wrong
cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do
I wouldn't know how just how capable I am to pull through
so I wanna say thank you, cause it...

makes me that much stronger
makes me work a little bit harder
makes me that much wiser
so thanks for making me a fighter...

made me learn a little bit faster
made my skin a little bit thicker
makes me that much smarter
thanks for making me a fighter



i can look back and know that he was weak. using me as the doormat to stomp his feet free of all his own inadequacies. i was never enough.

never pretty enough. thin enough. smart enough.

i can see now that i was more than enough. too much. i can think with a clear and rational mind now and know that it was him who had the issues.


yet sometimes, looking back still pisses me off.

only because of the years lost. the daughter we shared that i had to drag him to see in the NICU. the multiple times i took four different buses from westland to the east side of detroit (for all you michiganders...you feel me) just to see him. the cheating. the abortion. the whole gamut of self-esteem issues he so vehemently piled on me year after year.


most of the time though, i can look back and say thank you.

thank you for insisting that i would never be anything without you.

thank you for the many, many untruths you told me through the course of our relationship.

thank you for taking advantage of my docile personality, my loyality.

thank you for encouraging me to "get the f*ck out" that day, and then proceeding to push me out of the door so hard that i had a bruise on my arm for a week.

thank you for making me believe i was worthless, undesirable, and stupid.

thank you for assuring me there was no other man on the planet that would like me, let alone treat me right.

thank you.


i've had a ball proving you wrong.

surprised even myself at how strong i've become.

because of you, i know i can do anything i choose, anything i put my mind to.

sure, i've lost a bit of my innocence. become harder, tougher, thicker skinned.

in the end though, i owe you this gratitude.


even wrote this poem for you when i was especially grateful that you even decided to call me and see how i was doing. how sweet.


*67

i have a headache.
my ears are almost bleeding
can you puh-leeze stop screaming?
and pathetic is your pleading.
thought you were slick,
dialing *67 so i would answer
shit.
i did.

should've hung up the receiver
as soon as i knew
you were the deceiver.
and i'm still trying
but you're still crying
and i wish i hadn't answered this call.

the woes that befall you
are no longer my problem boo
i'm sorry she dissed you
and no i don't miss you
okay, now can i dismiss you?

no?

what else do you have to say?
you can't just leave things this way?
what way? ... they're perfectly fine with me
i've moved on ... can't you see?
what, you thought i'd be drowning in misery?
eyes red from crying a pillow sea?

nope.

well, not exactly.
i've already been through that stage
now i'm in the i don't give a f*ck phase...
the one where your name has been erased
replaced
embracing a new face...

switch!

so, are we done yet?
there's really no more convo.
your voice plus the tears
is a really annoying combo.
why am i so heartless?

hmm ... let's rewind.
you lied
tried to buy time
while she was taking what was mine ...
you deceived
and received
sex from someone not me

but now i'm relieved
so let's just end this conversation...
i have somebody waiting.
well, what can you do?

...go back to masturbating.

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.

the perfect blog crush...

in the past three days, i've had three different people ask me who my 'blog crush' is. i sat back and thought about it long and hard, and i've got to say that i honestly can't pick one blogger guy that i have ever had or have a crush on.

sounds like i'm lying right? lol. nope. i swear. the phenomenon that is blog crushing is not really my thing. i take online people for who they are... online.

but, for the fun of it, i thought about creating what i think would be the perfect guy out of the characteristics of five different bloggers. here's what i came up with:


from sojourner G i would take his spiritual soul and poetic way with words. -instant heart melt. lol.

from don, i'd take his chill, laid back demeanor, and ambitious mindset. realest blogger i've never met-you can hang out and do nothing AND pursue your dreams/goals together...probably at the same time.

from slaus, definitely the sense of humor. -even his comments crack me up. i'd probably have a permanent cramp in my side though. lol.

from eclectik, i'd add his zany, albeit brilliant, thought processes. lol. and appreciation for black women. -never a boring conversation with this one. finally someone as crazy as me. lol. :-)

from mwangangi, i'd take his incredible intelligence. talking to him is like talking to a live encyclopedia, and sometimes a thesaurus. friggin awesome. -i love having someone i can learn from.


*honorable mentions*

1980's swagger. he says he's still searching for it but he's pretty flyy to me. that pic on his blog alone gets at least 12 swag points. lol.

G-sweet's looks. he's pretty cute. if i was shallow he'd have made the top five. lol.

MP1's overall personality. i think he has a little of everything. good catch. i should stop lurking his spot and comment. i will. same with the two above. lol. he's also pretty smart.

the craziness that is Blogxilla. the homie, the lover, and the crazy arse friend all rolled up into one. i think that would be him. lol.

lightening bug's butt's (sounds weird all the 's) sarcasm. he should have a degree in funny. but like stand up comic, chandler from Friends funny. lol. cracks me up.

caeser cannon's , (or canon adonis i think it is now) complicated mind. young and intense. i can dig.

12Kyle's loyalty and dedication. i mean dude is right there, no matter what time you post, he comes through. loves it.

raw dawg buffalo's hair. friggin awesome. we could share hair products or something. lol.

anonymous nupe's tongue. LOL. he doesn't blog but that thing at least deserved a shout out. ha!


okay, i'm done. that was fun.

now your turn: if you could make your perfect mate from the characteristics of five bloggers, which five would they be? what characteristics would you use to create them?




serious post coming soon...i promise. lol.

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...

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 sho