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.

Carmen xoxo


Is It Possible?

For years, I’ve wanted to tell my story and get out a piece of writing that could affect the world in some way. I’ve always found myself pondering over the thought, but never following through. I would get through the first three chapters and suddenly question what my reason was for actually deciding to write a book. So many people have written one and so many people before me have had some amazing stories. What makes mine so interesting… so worth the reading?

Maybe because it’s mine?


I hear his voice. Every time I do it makes me want to puke. I can’t get rid of him. I can’t run away. I have to face it. I have to move through it. This is difficult.

I wrote that two days ago. Yesterday I spent my day with him.

Now this is another two weeks later since he was exposed to messing with some girls. I hate him.

I’m so confused. Love isn’t supposed to feel like this…

Wait… did I say love?


I’ve entertained the idea of dying for many years. Only now I find myself opening up about it to my therapist. She will ask me at each session if I  have had thoughts to end my life that week and I will say yes or no accordingly and during the week she will have a doctor call to make sure I’m still alive I guess. I am so sadistic that I may even smile when I say “yes… I’ve given it thought this week”. I’m one twisted chick.

I’m learning to control my thoughts and to smile when I’m broken inside. She said I’m full of pain. I know I am. She said she’s proud of me for even being in school. I don’t believe her. She says she thinks I’ve had a very difficult life and it’s amazing the way I push through. Blah blah blah… I secretly live to go to her just to see the way she fights back tears when I cry. I just want to be loved. Anyone. Hear me?

Because God doesn’t listen to me anymore…

The Awkward Moment

Have you ever experienced an awkward moment that you’re stuck in? Right now, as I type, Mr. R.A. is sitting behind me on his MAC Pro laptop, dressed to the T, as he usually is, and totally ignoring my presence. It’s so odd that we had a very intimate experience not even a week ago, and how calm, cool, collected, and without care he remains. It’s sad because I wanted to believe that he was a good person, with good intentions as I always say, and yet, he isn’t. Not a shock there, though I do believe that I must be waiting to be shocked by a man who will actually be that guy for me. I believe I waiting to have my socks knocked off and to be swept away by Alladin’s magic carpet, by a man who is actually interested in me and genuinely cares for me. No man here.

I’m concentrating on school, nevertheless, because I don’t even have the option to fail. I don’t have the option to be a failure, even though each and every single day I feel like I am just existing. I take my anti-depressant meds and I bite the bullet. I bite the bullet because if I don’t, my only other option is to check myself into a mental health clinic and get strapped down in a straight jacket and take pills and become a zombie (then run away, escaping my prison, and become a homeless woman who eats out of a garbage can and suffers from withdrawal symptoms from my medication). I would have given up on my life totally, and at this point in my life, I still have a bit of hope, and I still love God just enough to want to at least try to fulfill my purpose that I know He has set out for me to accomplish. At least if I try, He can’t send me to hell based on what I have not done, right?


Ugh. Right now, some skinny binny has him in deep conversation and he’s giving her all of his attention. How do I continue to wind up in these situations where i meet these men that have absolutely, positively no interest in loving me the way I believe I deserve to be loved. Everyone has their opinion on how I need to work on loving myself more first, and how I need to worry getting my life in order and changing the way I look at being loved. Some even say that I want the kind of love that my father did not give me, and that no man is capable of doing this for me. I can actually agree with all these things, but in the end, I believe that love conquers all, and that when you want to love someone, nothing can stop you. Love is the strongest of things. It is the best of everything. It is the alpha and the omega. God is love. If God is love and love is everything, and we are love and love is everlasting, then why can’t love overcome all. Why can’t love heal my broken wounds? It will. It can. I believe this. I know this. I believe someone is out there to heal my wounds. God has created that person for me and when that person is revealed to me, it will be a glorious day.

Carmen xoxo

Confusion and Conviction

So this thing that I wanted to be more than a thing has been cursed. Maybe the moment I decide to broadcast the way I feel about someone on my blog, it becomes the moment that everything goes wrong. I just feel like me and Mr. RA were getting off to a great start, and then suddenly, some demon came and possessed him. That’s actually the only thing I can think of. I can’t come up with a better reason for his change in behavior. He told my roommate that he’s no longer interested in me, and that I’m immature. Then when I went to speak to him this morning, he stated that he was still interested. 


I met in a car accident yesterday, driving from school with a suitemate. We were ironically headed to the dmv so that she could sort out some things when a woman rear ended us. The pain I feel physically right now is immense. I am happy, nevertheless, that I cheated death yet again.


I’m tired. I feel weary. I constantly wonder if I’m actually going to make it to old age, and I’m not talking about the old age that that some people accept, with the one lonely three legged dog, the rocking chair by the lace curtain window and the large Native American quilt with the pack of Siberian Wolves on it. I want more. I can tell you what I hope for. In my silent moments, I have this little beam of hope that reminds me of the way we were created to desire, and of course, I desire love and to be loved, and to love. I concoct this moment in my head of myself being a much older, withered leaf, looking on at her grandchildren and offspring. Once this reverie is over and I’m back to reality, I start pondering on the possibility, but I lack the faith to truly believe that I can have this beautiful ending. I don’t want to get too happy about a possibility and so I just let the possibilty go. It’s easier to let go and never have something, than to wait in hopes that it will show, and when it never does, you are left in despair. I hate that feeling of despair. I run from it.


Carmen xoxo

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I Did A Bad Thing

So I’m back in college and really enjoying it this time around because I feel as if I am finally living my dreams. It’s actually surreal. To think that less than two years ago, if I stepped out into moving traffic and was actually hit by oncoming traffic and killed, I wouldn’t have cared! I love my life right now and I’m shocked that I’m even in this space in time. Am I really experiencing this, or is it a facade?

I’ve even had a close cousin help me out by wiring me money, which was more than a tear jerker. I spent most of the night up, talking to God, asking Him questions that wouldn’t get answered the way I wanted them to be. I cried like a baby. What is my true purpose. Eat, shit, sleep… get sick occasionally… throw up maybe… cry? WHY?

So yesterday was my birthday. For much of the day, I didn’t pay attention to my phone or all the wonderful birthday wishes. I’ve kinda been programmed not to care about birthdays. My father seems to hate every holiday known to man, so we never did the gift thing. My brothers never wish me a happy birthday. It’s just a regular day you know? Plus I had no money (I have exactly $1.25 in my checking account, and somehow, I am surviving… in an uncanny way) so I just the best out of the day. My roommates surprised me with a cake and invited a few people over to our room. I decided to cook. I’m sure you’re wondering how it got bad? I’M GETTING THERE! Hold your horses!


Well, it all started like this- DISCLAIMER: this is not a new Mr. Story. I don’t intend on it getting that far. I’m just doing this exercise to stop the ongoing burning in my chest. It could be heartburn, but I can’t tell. My entire body keeps getting hot. Maybe I should see my private doctor if I go home? Anyway… so I made out with my R.A. last night. I know! That wasn’t supposed to happen and it wasn’t my intention, but it did and I don’t regret it, but I do wish this burning sensation in my chest would go away. He came by several times to wish me a happy birthday and somehow, and telling me in many ways and showing me in many forms that he liked me, we wound up in his room, and I, pinned against his door, held in a passionate suspension by his lips. It was unreal.

He’s three years younger than me, and still, I’m somewhat interested. He’s got all the girls in this college going crazy, and yet, I’m not shaken or moved. I could care less. Maybe because I am older and less intimidated by other women, but also it could be because I know myself a lot more today than I did a few years ago, and I’ve been hurt by all the Mr.’s and I’ve survived… surprisingly, so this is just a walk in the park.

I can’t lie though. I don’t feel eager to take this walk, this time. I’m not sure but there is a saying that when you are not looking for love it finds you. I hope this is not the case. I came here to get a few things done and leave. I came to accomplish a few things and move forward, and men were not on the list. As a matter of fact, I am still saying that I am a non-practicing lesbian. A friend of mine hit the nail directly on the head. She said I was scared. Damn right I’m scared! Here is a gorgeous guy that could have any girl he wants and yet he’s chasing me down? I keep asking why me? I guess the question is “why not me”?

Well it’s never been in my nature to receive the things I’ve really wanted or needed, so now that things have been falling into place, I’m baffled and almost concerned that they are headed my way. What? Why is this happening? What’s going on?  What the fuuuuuuck?

All the voices in our heads have something to say and the most difficult battle we face each day to dismiss the negative voices and allow the positive ones to have victory over EEEEVVVVIIIIILLLLLLLL! You have to say it that way too. It adds to it. Oh My Word! At this point, I’m ready to keel over. I am so exhausted and I have so much to do and very little time. The sleep I need somehow doesn’t come to me and lately I’ve been thinking way to much for my own good. Falling in love can only hurt the situation. Someone, please, for the Love of God, tell me to breathe??!!


Carmen xoxo

BTW I haven’t seen him or heard from him all day…



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