Friday, September 14, 2012

Love Begets Love







It was a balmy and rainy but refreshingly clear night in May. I drove over to his place, and he greeted me at the door. I walked in and took my shoes off as he closed the door behind me. He proceeded to gift me with one of those hugs that only he could give…sensual, gentle yet firm, and makes the receiver feel wanted and needed. With my shoes off he towered over me, so that made me feel as warm and secure as a baby in its mother’s womb. He pleasured my lips with a kiss that came standard with his hugs, which lingered for what seemed like lost moments in eternal bliss before softly kissing the side of my neck and ushering me over to his black leather couch.

I sat on the couch, and he sat on the floor between my legs facing away from me. I draped my toasted almond colored legs over his shoulders. He rubbed my legs and commented on how soft they were as I leaned over and hugged him, kissing his cheek before sitting back into a lazy upright position. My hands mindlessly caressed his head as we chatted about work, the weather, our children, and anything else that effortlessly came to us. I suggested we make love on his patio, but we eventually decided against it, as the neighbors would see us. At that moment he leaned back deeply, placing all of his weight between my thighs and lightly squeezed my calves. “This is what I need.” He said. “This is what I need to come home to after work. Peace, a beautiful woman, and sitting between soft thighs. It gets so hard out there traveling back and forth and coming home to nothing.” He grunted softly before squeezing my legs again, standing up, and leading me into his bedroom where he kindly removed my clothing, laid me down, and unselfishly and passionately made love to me, taking care to always be aware of me.

I tried to deny I loved this man, but it was to no avail because he reminded me of the simplicity of my past, power of my present, and the hopeful coolness and peacefulness of my future. With him I learned that it’s okay love someone else without it leading to marriage and that loving someone else as passionately and purely as you love yourself is not a crime. I ultimately learned to live in the moment and to not fight what I feel/felt. It’s what makes us human, and vulnerability is what makes us attractive. Never underestimate the powers of denial and familiarity. The harder you fight the feelings the stronger they become because, well, it’s a form of deceiving yourself. You can lie to anyone in the world, but never lie to yourself.

Yes, my heart still skips a beat and smiles when I see his face and my vagina weeps bittersweet tears in remembrance of being his lover, but I also know what I need now. I need friendship, intimacy, the freedom to be my dorky self, and someone that looks at me with pure smitten adoration that is always aware of me. I still love him even though our status is no longer ‘lovers,’ rather now it is that of ‘friends.’ He still calls me Claudine because I can never shut my brain off, and I call him Roop because he runs away when feelings get too real. I learned to love without losing myself, and he learned how to simply love. We were both teachers and students of love at the hands of each other. I happily walk away knowing I have his admitted love for me because love makes everything better, especially friendships. I said all that to say, stop being selfish with your love and trust God with your heart. Life is so much sweeter that way. The heart is never safe no matter how protective you are of it because it deceives even itself. Drop the superhero capes and bask in the rich simplicity of just being. Only God truly knows the heart anyway.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Secret Lover Never Loved

I take full responsibility for my heartbreak. You never asked me to love you, trust you, nor care about you. You never even asked me for a relationship, let alone my heart. Always the secret lover, but never loved. Body of a goddess, mind of a philosopher, heart of pure love, and spirit of a nurturing mother, but always the one left in the dark while lesser deities are flaunted in public. Maybe there’s a sign on my forehead that reads sucker for love with an amazing vagina, or maybe it reads will love for affection. I’m what you say you want. I’m strong and independent, but I never make you feel as though I don’t need you. I let you know you’re wanted and desired with every breath I take. Not just sexually, but in every way a woman can want a man. I have no hidden motives when it comes to you. You know this. I lay my vulnerabilities right there on the table. Showed my cards the moment I realized I loved you. I hold nothing back. Wait…maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I don’t play the game right because, well, I don’t play games. Maybe I should saddle up next to the whores and manipulators that can get men to buy them anything and cheat on good women for moments of freaked out pleasure. Maybe I should have been everything you say you hate in women…loud, obnoxious, angry, scene causing, crazy deranged bitch with a mean shoe game.


I'm not done with this piece yet, and I don't know where I'm going with it, but this is what I got off the top of my head. I am working on spoken word pieces.