Maybe a woman expects too much from life. Maybe the happiness that I dream of with a man is impossible. Last week, Mr. RA and I kissed. Yes I do have a boyfriend, currently, but am I happy? He’s great, but sadly enough, I don’t think I gave myself enough time to get over my past hurts. Mr. RA came in to have a talk with me and the next thing I know, we were both lying in my twin size dorm bed, naked, and clutching one another’s bodies. Sad.
But I want him. I want him to realize that I’m the one for him. He will never. He has a girl he’s interested in now, so it is over, and quite honestly, it burns my heart to let him go, but I have to for the sake of my sanity.
Why was I holding on?
He reminded me of something comfortable.
His smell reminded me of my father. I felt safe around him. He made me feel good… when we weren’t arguing, and I fell for his charm. He listened to me when I spoke, and often times our debates would end in kisses.
Oh boy… those kisses were legit…filled with so much passion, we were making love and babies to fill the African continent with only the stares that said so much, but nothing at all. In his eyes, were the fullness of a man that had so much to offer on paper, though he could never see that the very thing I wanted was what he was unable to give. Just be faithful to me… I would give you the world and my sacred womb, filling it with the quiver of your lineage, and a lifeline of generations to come, if only you would respect me and make me the only one…
Settle down with me…
Nevertheless, I am left with the shitty end of the stick… my psyche fucked from the thoughts of the statistics of black women in America and the depression that I suffer from that causes me to dwell on why I wasn’t good enough, yet again, for another guy. Meanwhile my current relationship dissolves like sugar in hot water for a morning tea. It was sweet, but it wasn’t the real thing. Mr. RA will be the one that got away, though now I must force myself to believe that it’s vice versa, and that it’s his loss.
Yeah… right… his loss…
Well he’s the one who’s 3-d profile looks so good, women are flocking to him. And I weaned off of the depression meds when we were talking. No one had the ability to do that. Or was it him that did that? Maybe I had found my own inner strength and I’m giving him way too much credit for my life achievements?
I need to concentrate on myself. I am back to square one. This is tiring.