27 posts tagged “love”

It's 3 am. I've been on a snow capped mountain for the pat two days. A mini get away with my mom and daughter. I'm working on one of the two last papers I have due for the semester. Though the paper is roughly easy, I'm finding it hard to concentrate. I really should have been done with the paper like... yesterday. Yet my mind wanders. Honestly my brain hasn't been letting me rest much since I had a dream my first night here in the mountains.

I woke up from the dream with the after thought of "huh?" I was actually worried a bit. My dream consisted of FISH!!! You see, it's been long said, especially among African Americans that fish in a dream represents pregnancy. Somebody, maybe even the person the person that dreamed it, could be pregnant. After my first pregnancy I have looooooong ago stopped saying "never." My first pregnancy taught me a lot about my own medical condition, my body, timing, doctors and so forth. I'm not going to lie and say I've been celibate since the birth of my daughter. Still, I'm doubtful that pregnancy is looming near me...at this time.

I woke up from the dream thinking. I thought about how a few close friends of mine are pregnant. I'm ecstatic that they are, but I feel sad on some level. I actually miss being pregnant and part of me feels as if I didn't bask in the glow of my pregnancy like I should have when it was my time. I was an emotional wreck during the whole process and almost became a recluse. I wasn't depressed. I was just trying to process everything that was happening to me and the baby at the moment. Granted I had family support, I still wasn't supported emotionally. That was the largest missing piece. I don't think I started to come around until near the end, when I felt every movement of my daughter when she was inside of me. For the most part my pregnancy was easy. No real complications, like I've been hearing from one friend.. her sleepless nights, back aches and so forth. Still a large part of me wants to relive the experience, then I think when the child is actually here. I love my daughter to death, but being in a parent isn't a walk in a park 24/7.

Speaking of my daughter, I thought my dream could have something do with what took place the day before. As routine, whenever we come to these mountains we do a run to the local Walmart before climbing the hills to our abode. I never noticed before how this particular Walmart has an aquarium section with loads of goldfish for folks to oogle over and if they want; pick some and take them home. I wheeled the Snickerdoodle over to this section and we oogled over the colorful goldfish for a while before rejoining my mother. So maybe my dream was a reaction to that?

I thought more about the dream. In it, I was visiting with an old friend I haven't spoken to in a year. We were standing in a small yard to a very small adjoining house. We were talking about an instructor whose class we were taking together. I noticed in her very small yard, there was a man made pond filled with goldfish. The dream flipped to when we are going inside and her very small house was full with people; her two children, her mother and her sisters. The dream flipped again to where I'm inside my car. At first I was on my on my cell phone talking to the same instructor my friend and I were talking about. I'm holding a paper that looks to be an exam I took and there are red marks everywhere. There's no letter grade on the paper, but apparently I'm upset because I thought I failed. At some point I noticed a pool of water on the driver's side floor. I looked down to see numerous goldfish swimming around. I don't freak out in the dream, but I'm left wondering how in the world did the water and fish (that seemed to be from my friend's pond) end up in my car.

I looked up several meanings of fish in a dream. Of course there is the obvious meaning; pregnancy. However, most of the interpretations I've been receiving about swimming fish have been about prosperity, wealth and personal power.

For a moment or two I thought about the friend who was in the dream with me. I wondered if the dream was a telling of her fortune sort of speak. Granted we haven't talked in over a year (a small falling out - another story), but I get a sense of her life via Facebook. It seems she still has her ups and downs, but I just pray that she will see some kind of ray of sunshine and has to want it. She's dropped hints that she is working on returning to school, which is wonderful, but again being that we haven't talked I don't know everything that is going on with her at the moment. My mind flashed back to an email I received a month ago from JM. JM is a dreamer too. Her email simply stated a dream she had of me that showed me as successful, with very long hair and happy. Her dream seemed to be in align with my life, the current strides I've been making and so forth.

Then, in the midst of completing one of the papers, I minimized my work to check the local publication I interviewed with for the internship position. I flipped through their site to see if they posted the story I submitted to them two weeks ago. Still nothing posted and no final word on their decision.

It's now 4 am and my mind is racing; the swimming fish, finals I have coming up, wondering what will 2010 bring and a particular wedding dress.

The wedding dress isn't so random. I was watching one of my guilty pleasures last night: My Fair Wedding with David Tutera. Actually, I've probably explained this before, but I really love looking at certain wedding shows for the party aspects as I grab a few ideas. I love Tutera's work and would love to be able to afford him to put on a party of my own. Last night I was almost in tears as I watched this beautiful bride try her three different wedding dresses. She wanted a 1950s style theme and Tutera had her try on dresses that matched the era. One dress in particular; a soft pink dress, strapless dress set off with a crystal-like pendant at the waist. It had a cocktail look in the front and it stopped above the ankles, with a back that was blossomed into a ball skirt/train. It's better to see it than how I'm describing it at the moment. Ultimately it was the dress chosen for the bride and I fell in love with it. Moments later I posted to Twitter;

I'm not 1 of these chics dying to get married, but if I'm blessed enuff for it to occur, I've seen my future dress on David Tutera tonight

I saw that goldfish have a second meaning; mainly about an important emotional matter or a valuable insight. Pretty much it leaves the dreamer to figure out what they are emotional about. Me? I've been a little emotional about Papi. Again, I'm not pushing for marriage, sometimes I do get scared that I'm going to get bored or feel guilty about neglecting him especially since this particular semester was very I get nervous when I think about how we NEVER had an argument, we barely disagree, but a smile splashes across my face when I realize this calmness is something that is deserved on both ends and it's beautiful. Then I wonder.. wonder if he is really all mine, which causes me to hold back on true deep level feelings. I trust him, but... That damn but. As if I'm expecting the "manly nature of man" to fail me.. him.. us.

4:30 am and I still have this paper to complete.... yet I can't concentrate. Those swimming fish won't let me be.

One of the hardest lessons that I've learned - and still reminding myself of - is that I'm worth it.

It's been on my heart and mind to sit down and talk with my aunt. I love my aunt, even in the midst of her flaws. After all, who am I to judge. Yet, it saddens me that at her age (she's edging closer to 50) somewhere deep down she doesn't feel like she is worth it. Granted, it's not my job to "fix it," but Lord knows I wish I could. I wish I could open her eyes to a lot of things about her self worth. Ironically, some of it is partly what she has inspired on me or shown me.

My own lessons of self worth developed before I had my daughter. I attracted quasi-decent guys; meaning I always looked at their social status, figured in how they would "complete" me (sorta speak) while carrying the "independent woman" sign with the disclaimer "I just want someone to love and be loved in return." Just when I had over extended myself by doing everything for them but jump through a hoop of fire baring a neon sign that says "pick me! I'm the one.." a disconnect would occur. Most of the time I was glutton for punishment and kept trying to force a connection when it was obvious it wasn't even a dial tone on the line.

Since becoming a mom it just seems like the wool has been pulled off my eyes and I see a lot of BS that floats around when it comes to people and relationships. I'm not claiming expert status. Far from that, but just the basic level of obvious bull - who really has time for that? Not I. Still what would it take for my aunt and so many other grown women to see the obvious and not accept it?

I wanna talk now, but things are hot....tense. She won't listen. I need a time to catch her off gaurd. So she has nowhere to hide to and no choice but to listen. Yes, it's time for the aunt to listen to the niece for a change.

All this over a man, that isn't trustworthy and has caused more harm to the FAMILY than good.

"...a very caring and loving person who is afraid of her own feelings."

When I first read that message I took a deep breath. The message was left anonymously via the Honesty Box on my Facebook page. The honesty box allows people to secretly answer whatever question is posed; even though you can bribe them with virtual points in order to uncover their identity. I respond to answers given, but never bribe. I can pretty much can tell who said what, based on the types of answers given.

My current question really isn't one. It' just a simple statement.

"Enlighten me: tell me something you think I should know."

I have a feeling Papi left such an answer. He denied it, but all evidence points to him. Though things are going well between us, I still feel apprehensive emotionally. He knows that I care, but when I start feeling deep, I mean diving real deep into my feelings I hold back....A LOT. Defenses are up and the little jokes served with nervous laughter come out.

I'm not sure what it is I'm actually protecting. I'm pretty much over my bad experiences. My war wounds from my last (so-called) relationship have closed up and are slowly smoothing over. Yet, why do I keep getting reminders, such as the message and the one I've been saying since seeing the message?

Reminder to self: It's ok to feel.

Maybe I'm still leaving that marginal room for error when this three year relationship proves to be not so perfect or just totally wrong. My fear of being presumptuous. Whatever it is, I'm so wide open. I want to run and hide, out of shame and maybe even fear. Yet, I don't hide. I stand there in the middle, in the open, stammering over what to say. When my heart gets too full, I don't express. Choosing instead to change the topic, tell a joke or retreat as if I didn't hear what was said before. I can't get away with it 95 percent of the time. That other 5 percent is when I can't deal and he just can't get it out of me. He doesn't push. Let's me be.

I want to share EVERYTHING that I feel, but stifled and saddened that I don't....

Maybe I'm just waiting for the right day.. the right time...that exactly "ah ha moment" when I know for sure... to say.... I love you.

I think I had a Tula Portokalos moment over the weekend.

Sometimes I find myself keeping myself in check. Saturday, in the aftermath of Friday evening, was one of those times. You see, using my connects, I had long ago put in a requests for a two baseball tickets for a Washington Nationals game. Granted I'm not all that thrilled about baseball, but I still love going to the games as it is a nice outing, or something to do. I thought it would be something cool for Papi and I to do for a date since he's never been to a game, especially now that the new stadium has been built. For the record he's not a baseball buff neither. We're both pretty much into football.

Well I got the call Thursday eve, that I have my tickets for the game happening the next day, plus an extra one. The extra was to go to my mother because our political friend wanted her to participate in a special ceremony during the game. I wasn't too disturbed by this, because though my mother has always been there for our political friend, she wasn't feeling the idea of tagging along with Papi and I on what was suppose to be a date. By the end of the night my mother said the only way she would go would be to catch a ride with our friend and then she can leave early or stay late with her.

Then there was a slight change in plans just before I went to bed Thursday night. My mother had mentioned something that my father would likely take her place and that another ticket would be added so my lil cuz could go as well (since my father was picking him up anyways.) Even still I wasn't all that disturbed, because I just knew that none of my folks would want to go through the motions of getting to a baseball for a five minute ceremony at the beginning and then leaving.

My dream told me different. I awoke Friday morning feeling terribly drained. For a moment I couldn't figure out why until my dream instantly played back in my mind. The dream was fresh so I remembered all of it. Basically within the dream I was in a bedroom with the man of my affection. It wasn't actually Papi, but the man's form took on the appearance of Mr. S. (sigh - why won't he go away). In the dream I was getting ready for bed with Mr. S and he ran off into another bedroom. In the room there were people from my family and some of our mutual friends. Before I knew it EVERYONE was sharing the bed. I remembered in the dream I was growing frustrated because I wanted "my man" to myself. Then I found myself concerned with "Does he mind sharing a bed with my family?" Then I had this feeling of I needed to escape and that my man is for me and not for my family.

When I woke up, I was a little perplexed that I would dream such. I did have a slight feeling it had something to do with the baseball tickets situation, but I instantly brushed it off. I concentrated more on the sense that a crowded bed (pertaining to my relationship with Papi) must mean that one of us or both of us are carrying our past around with us whenever we're together.

After shaking off the dream, the day went on smoothly and as productive as possible until the moments leading up for me to get ready. At the last minute the word came through that EVERYONE was going to the game; my mom, dad, my Snickerdoodle and my lil cuz. My attitude fluctuated between extremes. I went from being pissed that my whole family was coming to feeling panic for some reason. The thing is, within our two year (and some change) relationship Papi has met my immediate family with a few extended relatives. He gets along fine with my father. The Snickerdoodle adores him like a big play toy.  My mother is still warming up to him, but so far no problems and so on. We're both family people, but at the same time we both crave our space away from them for just us. Because, really.. we're both up under our families so it's a constant. The other thing is, since we only just STARTED to acknowledge to everyone around us that we are in a relationship. Granted nothing hasn't changed much for us, but in a way it feels as if it has since family and friends (from both sides) want to know "Who is he/she?" "How long?" "Do he/she have kids?" What do he/she do?" and etc. etc.

The more I thought about what the special ceremony was for, the more I thought about how some of the political connects that do have close ties to our family would be there, on top of my family going. My body temperature rose and my breath quickened. The phone kept ringing back to back with my mother changing transportation plans. I ended up letting out a loud scream by the end of one conversation. It was the worse. I couldn't go through with it. I picked up the phone and called Papi on both house and cell phones. No answered. I figured he was in the midst of getting dressed. After my family came by to pick up the Snickerdodle, Papi called.

After I gave him the rundown of what was going on, he calmly asked "What do you want to do?"

I suggested we go out to eat instead. So, we drove out of DC and ended up at a nice resturant not far from Baltimore. I was calmer and truly enjoying myself in his company. When I came home I got the report that the family did stay for the whole game. The Snickerdoodle had a marvelous time as she was amazed at all the activities going. I'm glad she was able to go, now I know she can handle baseball games and I can take her with me next time I go. I went to bed in a blissful daze only to wake up Saturday morning reflecting on Friday eve a bit.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding

I thought about the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, when Tula (the main character) pretty much freaks out or is embarrassed by a lot of her family's over exaggerated Greek activities. The scene that ran through my mind is when Ian asks Tula about her family. She goes into this spiel about how her Greek relatives act and how there are so many of them. Granted, Papi and I have talked about each other's families and he knows that mine is huge, I feel a pull of some sort. Even though I may gripe about my family and secretly wish I could move to another country sometimes just to get away, to be honest I'm close to my family. So I know to even try to totally dismiss them is hard.. more than likely not even an option. 

I'm sure having the family with me on a "date" wouldn't have been so bad, especially at a baseball game. Yet, it bothered me that I freaked out like I did. Of course it would have meant another opportunity for Papi to bond with my family, but am I really ready for that? Am I really ready for a relationship now that we've called...labeled it what it is?

I guess I must first be honest with myself and go back to a question that Papi asked me nearly a month ago. What am I expecting from this relationship?

Maybe there was a little bit more to the dream than just crowded seating at a baseball game.

Or....

Maybe I am just being (emotionally) clumsy.

The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard (1956)

The wave has hit me again.  I know what it is and what causes. It’s mother nature during her work. Still somehow I feel grateful when the wave hits. The wave of emotions that cause me to pull into myself and dive deep into an abyss of introspective thinking.  My truths are revealed, but what I do with them in the end varies.

This time I see a lot of things.  For starters a few people have reminded me that no one is perfect. Flaws and scars are mixed in with the make up that makes up so “great”  A homogenous mix.  The thought or reminder came has two people I’ve had several conversations with shared their break down. One flashed a melancholy status line on her internet page, a far cry from the confident and fiery chic I had gotten to know. The other, a model/single, shared her weight story in the current issue of Heart & Soul Magazine.  Later I told her I appreciated her honesty in her article.

From this I thought how just about everyone has some kind of judgment about everyone and/or everything. Though I try not to judge, I’m sure I do. I hate being judged or even judging.  With the two persons from my above paragraph, it’s pretty safe to say I did have some kind of judgment about them. It wasn’t negative.  I just saw them a certain way based on the conversations I have had with them and knowing what I already knew about them. Yet, in the past couple of days my judgments didn’t matter.

Instead I wanted to shed a tear or two, because I realized they struggled with something in their life just like me.  They aren’t perfect.  Who was I to judge them as if they were?  One of the things that I’m glad LAF opened up about was the fact that during our friendship she placed me on a pedestal, causing her to be judgmental towards me.  That was such a relief to hear because for most of our friendship I as if I were being judged, which made it hard for me to be real with her.  Just like me, nobody is perfect….

Just like me….

Since Jill Scott has opened up about her pregnancy I’ve been feeling weird. Like kismet weird. Maybe it’s because most people that know me have always compared me to her on so many levels that it just stuck. So it’s not unnatural that when I listen to her or read her poetry that I find myself in the “amen corner.” Yet reading her pregnancy story makes me want to shed more tears.  I cry because it’s me all over again. Mainly the whole being told that I may never conceive or if I wanted to I would have to try fertility drugs and “out of the blue” a seed is planted…that’s me.

I know I wrote about Jill’s pregnancy before, but this time, after reading her cover article in Heart & Soul, I ended up flashing back.  I began to feel shame, because the one thing I was trying to get rid of in the heat of desperation, anger and confusion, many women (and men) desperately want. I knew I was thinking selfishly at the time, only seeing how MY life would be ruined, and failing to realize that the Snickerdoodle is basically the ultimate blessing.

Towards the end of the article, Jill offers advice to women struggling to have a baby.

“Until God grants you the blessing of a child, be grateful for what you have, remain open for what you want and be thankful for the blessings when they flow.”

Monday, March 30 will be exactly two years since the Snickerdoodle made her earthly appearance. It’s been a rough ride.  There have been plenty of smiles, but just as many tears (for both happy and sad).  Having a kid brings on so much, especially when you are being the parent alone. It’s rewarding, it’s think less (if you are responsible enough) but it’s challenging.  Again, I’m not the perfect mom with a good list of first-time mommy faux pas under my belt, but I can’t even begin to imagine life without the Snickerdoodle.

The letters. When I go back and read the letters I had written to her, then as an unborn with sex unknown, I tear up. My pain was very real. Deep down I didn’t want to let her go, but I felt I had to.  Thought then it was more selfish to keep her around in the midst of a loveless god forbidden relationship. But of course her existence was bigger than me, bigger than her dad.  She has a purpose.

Purpose…

Push: A Novel

Sapphire

I started reading Push by Sapphire. I committed myself to reading the book before the movie comes out later this year (the name of the movie was changed from Push to Precious).  I knew what the plot was about before reading, so I went in knowing what to expect. Still my heart got heavy a few times.  I want to look up the back story on the book and find out more about Sapphire. Was the plot based from a true story? Was some elements her?  Even if it is fictionalized it speaks to so many truths for young girls everywhere.

Push is about an illiterate teenage girl, Precious, who has endured sexual and verbal abuse from her mother and father. She ends up pregnant, twice, by her father. During the birth of her first child (a girl born with down syndrome)  Precious encounters a “Spanish” man who is one of the EMS crew that helps her deliver. He is the one constantly telling her to push during her delivery, and this has been Precious’ motivation. She “pushes” pass her limitations to seek a better life for herself and children. She slowly begins to see that she isn’t stupid and invisible as she thinks. She does have a purpose.

 In reading about her abuse, especially from her father, lumps have been forming in my throat. It’s a fear that (perhaps) may never go away. It’s something that I’ve mentioned in my blog before, that I’ve told Brandon about, JM and even Papi. It’s a fear I have for the Snickerdoodle. It’s something that I just can’t even let my guard down about, especially as a single mom with a daughter.

It takes a certain evil kind to do something so horrific to a child. My closest friends that have gone through, I grew to hate their mothers more than the (step) father that did it, because the mothers lived in denial and refused to accept the truth (in one instance the mother stayed married to the guy.. still is) and didn’t protect their child/my friend(s).  Still, I made a vow that I would not be that naïve mother. I would not be the mother crying on the news because some man looked that damn good so good that it is beyond belief that he would touch my child.

Papi I trust. He was once married and raised two step children. He was their father more than their biological. They still call him for everything. Though he wants to cut ties because he is no longer with their mother, he doesn’t.  Honestly, I don’t think he can. Probably feel as if he is neglecting is own children.

Still being a protective mother I can’t help but to have some kind of caution when it comes to him and the Snickerdoodle. I hate that I have even an inkling, because it is a matter of trust.  We’ve been going “on” for two years and some months. He was there before the Snickerdoodle and after. So why do I fight?

I’m a fighter.

I fight life hard. Funny thing is, things or maybe even people I don’t want, still come after me. More like a magnetic pull.  A couple of folks have hinted that I’ve met my husband. I reject it. I fight the notion. I pull out my mental dry erase board and begin the pros and cons of life, formulate a hypothesis, create formulas and theorems to make it make sense to me, when it reality it doesn’t.

Because the reality is, when I wake up in the morning for class, I see that red light to my blackberry blinking. I know it’s him. I know it’s him leaving a message to say “good morning, have a good day at school. Can’t wait to see you.”  My heart will feel heavy because I refuse to release, accept or admit that this is real and my eyes will form tears for they won’t fall because I’m too much in denial to let them.

Yet I don’t see all of this when mother nature is not around. Like the confrontation bitch she is, she shows me when she is on the horizon of arriving.

The closer we've become, fears surface.

Death is one. I can't take losing another....

Another that truly has my heart. That gets me & what he doesn't understand, he seeks to.

Others predict our ever after.

I fear it, so I block it.

Left to ponder the "what ifs"

Still, so much space to clear before any ever afters.

So much to do...to prepare for.

Maybe this is it. Maybe not.

Either way too late.

I'm caught up.

Didn't ask to be. Didn't want to be.

Sure there is a reason. We just aren't clear. Gave up on finding reason.

Just Be...right?

We're in pretty deep. Two years and going.

My heart is in this.

It's my heart that pushes tears through where there are talks about a possible return to Iraq, or thoughts about senseless random acts of violence, or accidents.

If we are working on an ever after I pray that we are blessed to see 50 plus years.

And when death comes knocking, we would have left the other with the knowledge that we truly and deeply loved each other.

It wasn't in vain.

Still...the feel or thought of their absence....

*tears*

This day will always be etched into my mind. For it was the day that I felt a genuine connection and my grandmother heeded her warning.

Can't stop gushing like a school girl. Papi left not long ago with his gift in hand. Like last year, again I'll be away when his birthday comes around next week. Since he's always so kind to bake me chocolate chip cookies, I decided to leave him with something sweet to "remember" me until I return. Originally I tried a recipe for no-bake oatmeal chocolate cookies. In the end, they really turn out to be something like fudge (bars) and not really cookies since you don't bake them. They were okay, but very experimental. Nothing I would give to anyone unless I keep working and tweaking it.

So I stuck to one of the things I know best in baking. Chocolate poundcake. Still without a kitchen as the renovations press on, two months ago my mother bought a small/medium toaster oven that can be used as a conventional oven for small baking jobs. After searching a few boxes for my 6 inch bundt mold packed away, finding it and washing it out, I remembered and followed a basic recipe for baking the chocolate cake from scratch. I pretty much had everything I needed here at the house, except baking soda. However, a few quick references on some cooking sites, I found I didn't really need it as long as I had self rising flour.

I made two. One for my mother. A diabetic kind, mainly by substituting sugar with Splendor.

The other for Papi. With real Domino sugar.

When I was done, I cut up the cake into slices and I packaged it up all nice and "pretty" in this large mock Chinese take-out carton that was decorated for Christmas (from Target); wrapping each slice in Chrismas-sey tissue paper, and attached his birthday card to the box.

He tried a slice in front of me. He loved it. Then again, he's never complained about my cooking.

Still I was hit with this gushy feeling, even more so as he noticed my hair (the first thing he noticed and expressed that he liked very much)

My afro. Mostly pulled back from my face.

True Mahogany(-ie) form.

As always he left me with a full cd/dvd of music to travel with. He always looks out for me when it comes to this. I love this about it.

Last time it was Ledisi, Erykah Badu, Lenny Kravitz... all my favs.

This time more favs. Raphael Sadaaq, John Legend, Santogold, Thievery Corporation, Q-Tip, Common & more.

When I get back I know to expect some Geno Young. 

I haven't left town yet. Already I miss him and the smell of Delicious filling the air between and around us.

Despite the girly-ness that contains me now, my earlier conversation with my grandmother is stuck in the back of my mind. I won't want to think about it, but it's alive. It's visible. 

The crying. The pleading.

Her depression is stubborn and being a straight up bitch. I wish I could become that superhero to just break it all away. Today was not a good day for her. Yesterday as my mother and I took her Christmas shopping, I should have taken the hint. She was fine. Stable. Still the evidence was lurking. I smelled it. Still I ignored it. I shouldn't have.

As she sobbed and talked she repeated her warning

Her warning: "Please take care of your mother. Look after her. I worry about her so. Look after her."

I sense that my grandmother doesn't have long. I'm both scared and relieved by this thought. Scared that she may be doing this on her on will. Her own time. Her own destiny. Not sure I'm ready to face a reality without a grandmother who still is/can be as vibrant as the sun. 

Relieved that she may get the peace that she so desires right now. She's tired. Missing her best friends which were her mother (Granny) and a majority of her first cousins. No other friends around. She's lonely.

I don't want to sit here and estimate and count the days she has left. Yet I don't want her to suffer neither.

This is out of my control and it hurts. If I had my way, obviously it wouldn't be this way.

All I can do.. pray & meditate on this.

This day will always be etched in my mind. It was the day that I recognized a genuine connection and that I'm not a superhero.

When it comes to relationships, I think in essence I run from the ones that are meaningful and run to the ones that are like me, self serving.

This time, something is keeping me grounded.. at least for a while. Still there is resistence from that gravitational pull. I push away. Not sure why. Scared that this might be real. Fear that it just might work. Insecure that I'm not perfect (enough). Arrogant enough to foresee that I may outgrow him. 

Though, not sure if he gets me or if I get him. Something is there.

"Your're ruling the way I move and I breathe your air "
- Sade Adu.  

Colorful

Call me a bit off, weird or quirky, but I love filling a glass with ice, ginger ale or a citrus drink and placing a fruit popsicle (Edy's Fruit Bar) upside inside. Somehow when I have this concoction going my body instantly chills and I relax.  

Tonight as I currently have a glass...ok plastic cup... filled with such I'm sitting back and letting my thoughts fly. As usual I don't know where to begin in spewing my thoughts, so everything feels like a ramble or a run-on sentence in my head.

However, tonight I'm stuck on better halves.

I've been reading a few blogs and came across a couple in which the blogger talks about missing their other or better half. Their half is away for whatever reason and in each case they have pondered on their existence without their half.  I can't help but wonder how I will fair over the weekend when Papi leaves for his family reunion. True, I'll miss him, but it won't be the end of the world. It's the Snickerdoodle that I can't bare to be away from for an extended amount of time.  I must say I did very well a few weeks ago when she spent the night with my aunt and grandmother. I only called to check on her once.  I knew she was in good hands.

Still, this whole thing about better halves has been coming to me ever since my cousin's funeral last week. My cousin and his wife were married for 62 years. What scares me a bit, when people who are that in love and in tuned to each other; when one goes away in death the other isn't far from behind. This was proof enough for me a few years back when my Uncle Gyden passed away. Uncle Gyden and his wife, Aunt Louise, had been married 50 plus years.  They loved, worshipped and did just about everything together. I will never forget the day of Uncle Gyden's funeral. At the end I had approached Aunt Louise wanting to give her a hug and let her know I was there.  Needless to say I was taken aback when I approached her.

All my years of knowing Aunt Louise, I had never seen her cry at a funeral. I remember very vividly, especially at my great-grandmother's funeral, she was the one to rally everyone together and tell them to forget their tears of sadness. If anything it was a day of celebration. She was one of the strong pillars of the family. Yet on that day of her husband's funeral her world seemed to have ended. When I approached her she was full of tears. Nothing would come out my mouth. I stood there with tears coming from my eyes as she kept repeating,

"I can't live without him. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't live without him."

A few months later, Aunt Louise was gone.

I'm aways in utter amazement when I come across a couple that in tuned to eacher that their hearts are really one. It's even more amazing when you can actually FEEL the energy that a couple that in tune radiates with. I feel very blessed to be or have been in the presence of such couples, because it renews my faith in real, unconditional, deep down to the core, consuming, undying love.  I feel this way about my Snickerdoodle. I love waking up in the morning and seeing her face or feel her climb over me trying to wake me up.

"Get up Mommy!"

Though I don't want to spoil her to the point that she can't do without me, I'll admit sometimes it is hard. For the most part she is good at entertaining herself  if I have duties around the house to complete or if I leave her in the care of a family member she'll busy herself with whatever. When I return in her sight that's when she falls apart. She'll run, crawl or fast walk to get to me. If we aren't in arms reach she'll start to whimper or even cry while reaching for me. When I'm in her sight, she watches every move I make and now that she is walking good, she'll try to follow. 

Maybe I have spoiled her just a bit.

So many times I've replayed in my mind the events that has led up to her existence. Eventually I end up shedding a tear or two, because I realize that I am completely in love with her and I can't even begin to image my life without her.

When it comes to the type of love or intimacy that my daughter may not be able to provide me, I only hope that I am blessed to have such a person my life; for us to be on the same level and able to grow spiritually and emotionally together. Just as it is with my daughter, I want the divine given love; one that was chosen just for me.

Divinely favored.  

The new issue of Essence magazine features singer Usher and his recently born infant son. I've only skimmed through the article and glanced at the beautifully done photo shoot, but I teared up as I read lyrics to a song he wrote for his son, especially the ending lines.

"I ain't going nowhere
Even when I get on your nerves
Cause I'm your daddy

My prayer for you
Son I pray for you"

- Usher "Prayer for You"

I've been inspired to sit down and pen something down for my better half.  I haven't written anything for her since March, just before her first birthday.  I just feel the need to go deeper with and about my love for her. I'm afraid I may never be able to convey such depth of loves in a written passage.

Ms. (In) Dependent
By Mahoganie
March 2008
Washington, DC

Ms. (In) Dependent
Decided to get up this morning and walk
With her destination unknown
Off she went
Cruising a narrow corridor
Exploring
A tapestry of clothing
A mountain range of dressers
Dusty peaks of exquisite smells
I watched from afar as she grabbed a leg of the old night stand
Balance and Confidence gained within
She looked back as if to say
"Don't fret. I got this!"
She passed a hill of old drop socks
Navigating her way through a maze of Donald Pliner, Ferragamo and Naturalizer boxes
Finally reaching a resting place
Grandma's bed
I couldn't help but to get a twinkle in my eye
My pride
For she is like me
In search of some kind of destiny
Child like Mother
Mother like child
for so long I was a melody
In search of the perfect lyric
God must have bionic hearing
Out of the ash of love confused with lust
he delivered my song
My better half
A life lyric helping to create the ultimate love song
I am her
She is me
My Aries wild child
To my calm Aquarian breeze. 
Energy astound
"When you get blue, I feel it too."
Child like mother
Mother like child
Same (In) dependence
Feeding off a source in order to grow to be free
Wanting to explore the world
Even at an age so mild.

Copping The High
By: Mahoganie 
April 10, 2008
Washington, DC
 
Never knew what an addiction was
Until there was you
 
My internal tracks
Evidence of what I took in vain
My past filled with something like you
Still, it's not the same
Thought I turned the page
Wrestling, biting, scratching, fighting
Emancipating myself from the
Meaningless
Then there was you
 
Not fully aware of your presence
I made one move
It put me in place to be
A super hero by day
Defending her honor
Yet at night I disrobe my armor
Thoughts of you
 
Missing you
Excited by you
Indifferent about you
Wanting you
Needing you
Addicted to you
 
Cold sheets
Head bowed
Eyes closed
Still darkness
Explore
 
Touches like yours, but mine
Unafraid
Aware, but soon gone
My breath is yours
My voice is your whisper
 
Lower...
I tease, you tease
Feeling...
Stiff, rubber, veins...You're stiff and girthy
Deeper...
I go, you go
My cries are mine
Sensation surreal
 
Enter...stay...tease...slow...go...stop...
Stay...caress...tease...slow...go
 
My trip...
My hidden tracks
Filled and over flowing with my sinful lust
I hear nothing
I see nothing
Just feel
 
My trip
Feeling you inside of me
The power of one
Taking me higher
To a place that I cannot reach in reality
 
Overwhelmed
I succumb to your calling
My trip is done
My tears freely run
 
Never knew what an addition was
Until there was you