I knew the situation at hand.
So it's against the rules to care or cry.
I'm expected to be immune.

I broke the rules, and fell.
Experiencing the awkward moments that is
Falling alone.
Failing by confessing my love.
Meanwhile you changed the meaning of the word.

Lust became the enemy.
Emotions and erotica never intertwine,
At least for me.

"Maybe we got too deep into this thing we're doing." And on that note he leaves.

I look at the sun and see God
And I talk to him and pray for you
I confess to him "I really did love him ya know"
And I don't know if its sarcasm or not but he just continues to beam
Sometimes even brighter, almost blinding so I squint so I can listen
It's as if he's saying "it's not over yet, he could always come back around"
Because the sun always comes back out.
I pray that you find happiness,
Then I take it back and pray that you find happiness with me.
The sun stares me down until i make my prayer unselfish and I eventually pray I find happiness with or without you.

I look to the sun and see god, and I always remind him "I really did love him ya know"

There's just something in the sunshine.
Something that lets me know things will always be alright, no matter what.
It's the symbol of hope, that there is always a new day, a different tomorrow.
It washes a warmth of possibility over me.
A fresh start each morning, a different forever we're in search of.
Each spring that sunshine saves me.
Something in its rays that gives purpose to my words.
That warmth washes over me and gives me strength to press forward.

Just be there

But he always is out trying to save the **** world
Maybe he forgets I need help sometimes too
Superman has these ******* lapses in judgment that make him think sometimes even though we're in separate states I'm perfectly fine not hearing from him. He doesn't seem to understand that's all I have. We got closest through these **** mobile phones always rushing to respond, FaceTime, call, and listen. Now it's like pulling teeth just trying to have a conversation worth having. I've forgotten what his voice sounds like, forgotten his ****** expressions. Constantly on edge because now when I see his name pops up I'm so agitated that he still hasn't noticed the problem. Just give me my superman.

Your parents don't tell you what it feels like to be shot or stabbed when you're born.
They don't have to, because there isn't really any way to describe it. You can't know how it feels or describe the pain if you haven't felt it, lived it.
But why would they tell their precious baby boy or girl how that feels? Scaring them before they've actually lived. Triggering fear before they even know what fear is.
No, you can't describe how it feels to be stabbed. When it happens it just happens, it's so painful you can't even say you're in pain, because you're eyes are always so shocked that pain like that even exists. Your body goes numb at the sight of its own blood.
No one wants to be warned of that image, just like they don't want to listen when they're warned about falling in love.

My mom taught me how to be alone.
That doesn't mean I enjoy it because
Despite what she says I still believe
There's someone out there
For me

However
She's taught me to never back down
See she's a Sagittarius like me and
Oh how we cannot be tamed

So whenever I come back home to tell
her about so and so or whathisname
we never fret when I say he didn't make the cut
Because she knows who she raised

I like to be told good morning every morning
I don't like being told what to do, or how to do it
unless...
And if he does it wrong
He's a goner

Yes Mama warned me
She said never get strung out on the birds and the bees
There's nothing between a man's legs that is golden
Nothing that should make you forget who you are

Yes she told me
She instilled a power in me
The reason I lead
not flock
I call the shots
Be someone's backbone
But never settle for being just in the back
Make your face THE face
Be needed, on your terms

Mama told me never to let a man be my tamer.
I am mine before I am anyone else's.
Only I can do the taming.

Thoughts stampeding through my mind as my eyes try to focus on pages of words.
Images of myself clashing with those of Jean causing me to neglect the story she's trying to break down to me.
It's just hard to hear her over my screams.
Visualizing the car scene that took place just an hour ago
Envisioning myself as the demon
Wondering if I was overreacting...

Replaying all the scenes where my anger fuse has dwindled too fast
My mouth pained with a quick tongue
Curious if a drink would've calmed my nerves

I just hope people don't replay these moments like I do...

thank you for making me happy.
I can't thank you enough for these laughs I can't stop sharing
These smiles I can't stop bearing
Thank you for holding me up
Literally
Laughing at my messiness as you help clean up the mess
You really are something.

It could've been the hottest day of the year. The kind of heat where the brown gets browner and everyone has that glistening sensation that's really just a mild layer of sweat. It was the kind of heat where that light scent of must mixed in with the incents and kush clouds.

I feel guilt.
As I stroke his palms with my finger tips after we made riddles, poems, and limericks
But all I can think of is what I should call this figure. So I try to find inspiration drawing words from tracing his outline as his brush strokes my page. I hear riddles. poems and haikous as I wonder what exactly he can be defined as: my man, my fling, my boo? So we paint to draw a conclusion as I make limericks with licks and he adjusts brushes to make us, all the while the two vibe making designs. And at the end of this creative process maybe the end result will name him as mine.

This is especially written for you.
Out there.
For the colored girls.

The girls that are insecure with their lovely brown tint
in between the deep chocolate and lemon yellows.
you'll never hear the term red or yellow bone
You don't know what color your bones possess

The girls whose hair used to naturally curl but couldn't hold the press and curl long enough to feel like its meant for you to look like that all the time. So you agreed when your mama offered to relax your hair so you could relax too. That way even if you couldn't be as light as the mixed girls and the red bones, at least your hair could be as laid as theirs…

I'm writing this to the girls that weren't blessed with the hips nor *** black women are forever praised for. Questioning why our figures aren't as exotic as society tries to generalize. We aren't fit to be the token when we lack the true characteristics that are associated with our ancestors, right? I'm writing this for the tokens that have lost themselves in the crowds they've tried to fit into. Don't lose yourself forgetting to be you.

I'm writing this for every colored girl that questioned if she was beautiful, as I used to do. Always assuming  everything bad that happened was because you simply weren't light enough for good things to happen to you. No light girl, white girl priviledge. I'm writing this to resurrect all the ill feelings i've ever thought about my blackness before I realized it was okay to be so, in hopes that maybe I can ease a colored girl's mind when she feels like she's too black for the world.

This is for her.
The beautiful colored girl.

I come from pain, but I've worn it with grace for almost twenty years.

I was born to serve my mother
I'm her last hope when she loses faith in all things
I love her more than anything in this world
But the world has made her so cold
It's hard loving someone that sees so much disappointment and
She blames herself, wondering why she's been sentenced to double life
Stress

I want to make her so happy
I want to take on all her burdens
I know my love can't heal all her pain
It can't fill the cracks that the last 7 years have brought along

I'm the only sane child I think
I've heard the same scoldings so many times
I've had my act together since the fifth grade.

She led us down the right path.
She just wasn't there to choose the forks
Thats where some were led astray

I wonder why me?
Why did I make all the right friends?
Why did I do all the right things?
How can being so right feel so wrong?

I feel this imbedded desire to live up to being the chosen one.

He knew she'd never leave.
Mistakes become true testaments of love supposedly, women tend to accept a man's wrongs as a way to show their loyalty.
Sticking through thick and thin, while their men
skip and skim through options.
I was an option.
Somedays I was proud to be his safe haven, his lover, most of all his friend.
I was in love with the comfort and knowing he'd would always be there.
Other days I was lonely. When hours past and there was no sign of him I assumed I had ran my course.
That she had returned, but we both knew she had never left or planned on leaving.
I knew I was in love when the pain became more painful.
As I spent each holiday alone, my reflection mocked me.
I questioned which I'd rather be a secret or a mockery.
I still don't know personally.
The women, or "girls" with the relationships we envy  I've noticed seem to rather be made mockeries.
You see a strong, confident, beautiful, intelligent, and independent lady become weak, cowardly, dependent, clingy, oblivious, insecure, and naive.
The denial is their safe haven.
Well he was mine.
I became all of the above, except naive.
I always knew.
He always knew I'd leave, and deep down I knew it too.

When I speak of my past loves my face always lights up because i reminisce to times of laughter,kisses, and bliss. I've been in love numerous times, but I question which exactly was the real one? Because you always want what you can't have...

Sometimes it's like I'm in love with my best friend,
because when we laugh we're equally obnoxious
He's always doing things a husband would do
the simple things
and he listens when I talk about my trivial female issues
and he learns to understand all my mood swings
and he ignores the sinning I do when he's not around
he loves me, and reminds me every time I need reassurance
as to why I am capable of being loved.

But sometimes I just want to live and take risks!
So I've danced with the devil a few times just to try the feel
that they say some men can bring, that feel they say will drive a woman to do
crazy things, and it in fact resulted in me doing some crazy things
like living in the moment
getting so ******* in love you forget what day it is
forgetting there is a whole world because in those moments
the world is you and him
with your legs wrapped around his waist
and your arms around his neck
saying you've missed him when only a matter of hours had passed before you saw him again

I guess it's possible to be in love with two people,
but if it came down to it you'd know exactly who you'd choose
even if he wouldn't choose you.

I find myself in a three- way love affair.
An intersection of different loves that live in me
Love that helps me find beauty, and give it back to the Earth
Give it back to the Lord.

He's helped me love him, give myself to him
and gaining myself in return
It's the beautiful form of true love once you're submerged in his water
and cleansed of all that held you back from love.

He promised love would come through him.

Sending me someone that was made in his form, forcing me to learn
forcing me to open my eyes to new perspectives.
We fall into a three way love affair, putting you first
and being grateful enough to find each other through you.

He's helped me love her.
Singing imperfections with love
Smiling at her reflection at her worst
Taking pride at her best
A weight is lifted because she's blessed enough
to now know the difference between all the loves we thought we had known
and truly what being loved is
what loving is.

It is you.

I wonder if I even want a response anymore. Because I always enjoy the challenge of being ignored. I'll complain about it, then still call you when I'm drunk, text you when I'm lonely. No response. And I'll go through my day as if I never was rejected. Neglect to tell my friends I had a relapse, that I'd been relapsing for 5 months now with no signs that there was even a good cause to fight for. Maybe I don't want anyone for my own, too complicated, too public, too much effort. So I like to intrude on things already in progress to be everything their missing, that thrill. But thrills only last so long. You taught me that.

Does time exist? Does it matter even?
If I loved him then, will I love him forever?
If in a matter of weeks he becomes a stranger
Did I ever know him at all?
As the days fade, and new memories are created
I wonder what he could possibly be doing that doesn't cross my world.
But then again we went 17 years without crossing paths.
What's another 17?
In that time will my love become dormant and
arise with the first sight of him?
I'll only know then. Hibernating.
Time waits for no one, but if it doesn't exist
I can be waiting forever subconsciously.
Never noticing until I see what I've been waiting for.
That moment when I come across a stranger with whom memories I share.

Her name was Tina and she loved the idea of true love. She was young and beautiful, so she was told, with ambitions that were limitless and smiles that beamed of achievement. Perfection wasn't the goal, but she almost appeared to be because when he squinted his eyes there was nothing he could find except how in love she was.

Her kisses were passionate, her words as well and overall she was sweet. There was never a moment you had to question where her mind was. Her emotions read in her words and her voice, in the way her eyes gleamed when she held back a tear.

She was preparing for a life of living and loved being young. She danced with the music, she sang all the notes as if they were her own. Tina was loved by many, and she had loved a few, but there was only one Tina was crazy about.

His words gave her butterflies, his kisses kept her going. For months she was her happiest, constantly in a rush to be back to this one. Careless of those that wanted her or loved him because he was all hers and she was all his.

This young girl so full of dreams, couldn't stop falling. Swirling down a staircase of heartache for someone that slowly revoked the hand he extended. She chased the hand and kept pulling him back, going insane constantly saying "it'll go back, it'll go back" back to the way it was it wouldn't. He'd revisit her in her dreams but that was it. Their realities would never meet. A goal she'd never achieve.
her name was Tina, as sweet as can be.

The sickest happiness.
Sick because most don't know the feeling,
But an undoubtable bliss.
Comfortable while being comforted
Undetachable
Irreplaceable
The highest level of platonic
Those people, those are the ones worth keeping.
Not because they make you happy, but because together is when you are at your best.
friendship is the dosage of humility and sanity. An influence that doesn't change you, but helps you maintain you.

don't let the transition become the permanent

can i use you?
just to transition to my permanent?
can you lead me to my future
be my present
just a hand to get me through

can i use you?
kiss me as i wait for my prince
distract me from this heartache i'm running from

You can use me too ya know
I'll give you tenderness
when the world is too rough on you
I'll give you erotica
when you've become bored

I just wanna use and be used.

It's all about transitions.
That ongoing change that you always want to run towards
but when the going gets tough you
run back to reminiscing.

He'll want me when my hair falls right above the dimples in my back. Luscious enough to blow in the wind, strong enough that is doesn't fall out when he grabs it yanking my head further back so he can keep his balance.

He'll love me when my silhouette is equal to the coke bottle I sip from in bed when i really should be in a gym drinking water, doing squats and sit ups. So he can play with my lady lumps and compare them to mountains.

He'll miss me when my skin is as yellow as the sun that disappears come winter. When I'm as golden as the sand.

He'll never be able to do these things.

My hair is as coarse as twigs , it stands stiff with curls that he can grasp, but his fingertips will get stuck. They'll remain steady, and although my dimples in my back will never meet them, they'll give him balance. Never letting his fingertips go.

I'm as slim as a twig with 2 oranges attached. No other curves. But he'll fall asleep on my oranges, and watch as I nurse with my oranges. Never letting my family go pillowless or hungry.

I'm as brown as a twig. Never a redbone or yellow one. Just perfectly peanut butter. The in between. A sweet caramel that is a perfect topping to treats. Holding the sun in my skin, brown. Always reminding him that summer will always be in me.

He'll never love me.
Because the media doesn't show us twigs.
The perfectly imperfect that wish we could look like those women our men fantasize about.
Even though we love our smiles, our laughs.
We love our voices, we love holding hands.
They'll never love us.
Twigs get lost in the golden sand.

I miss you unbearably.
Just take me back to the sunny days where our kisses were long, long and tender.
Moments we weren't together seemed like ages and temporarily the universe revolved around us.
Only us.
We were each other's everything
and a few months foreshadowed a forever.
I never loved like that before.
So uncontrollably, erotically, chaotically.
You were so calm, but got my heart jumping
My body jumping whenever you came to mind
When your body met mine
Beautiful browns intertwining making beauty I'd never seen.
Oh how happy you made me.
That night before I left for St. Louis we said goodbye as if I'd never come back, and I knew I loved you then. Not because we shared a sadness,
But because then we realized that a mere 3-4 days was too long to not be able to breathe in each others works or taste them and doing so couldn't take place without the blessings of our kiss.
I knew I loved you when the morning I awoke in Missouri and you wished me a good morning addressing me as your Mrs, and from that point that's all I wanted to be.

I miss you unbearably. I love you and cannot and will not stop. These memories are our forever.

Last night I forgot who I was, where I was, what I was wearing, even what I was feeling. I couldn’t feel my face, and there was numbness in my toes. Eyes closed, I heard nothing, saw nothing. But I felt a hidden passion that I knew from once before. My face was being held, with fingers playing explorer through my hair. But my face is numb, and now my lips are too. Disconnected yet connected at the same time. Knowing when this high wears off I’ll be in tune again. Our love will be like the 4th of June again. These kisses will feel brand new again. I’ll fall back in love with my best friend.

I miss the way he feels.
Under me.
On me.
Beside me.

Under me watching my every move.
Guiding my waist.
Lips being smushed as I warn him
To monitor his moans
Although I enjoy hearing him whisper
Yes, yes, yes

On me pressing his weight so I can't move
His face so serious until I pull him so close I can't see him anymore
Thrusting his body so that each stroke feels like someone is bulldozing my body
Wondering how no one can hear us because our bodies are screaming so loud and breaths becoming so rhythmic
it's almost disrespectful

Beside me letting me fall asleep on his chest while he plays video games as he waits to wake me back up
Kissing me all the while so I have the sweetest dreams
forehead, kiss
hair, kiss
hand, kiss
cheek, kiss
Then I'm up

I miss the way he feels under on beside
Me.
I just want you near.

"The black woman is the most unloved creature to walk the earth."

Our men do not value us.
They test our willpower, breaking us repeatedly
Claiming our self worth as weakness when the burden of his love becomes too strenuous

We do not know what it is like to be loved because pain neglect and disrespect come at a more rapid pace
The torture is endured in hopes of an evolving love
Some day...

I am ignored
My anger no matter the volume
Is never loud of enough for a man

At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine.

An hour later "We regret to inform you..."

An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..."

I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..."

Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine.

"Oh, it was national" says my father.

Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream.

"We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors"
    Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough?

What if I'm not qualified enough?
What if I'm not deserving enough?

Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots.
120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many.
My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted.

Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets,
I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some...

Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified

Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord"

Deep breath in.

Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.

Silence
In a room full of people I can't be heard
It's rare that I can captivate attention
Just drowned out by my lack of interest

I enter a room and you are unphased
Quick to rush to the next subject
I am not important enough
Whereas once you'd carry me
Told me I was rare
Now you have so much power my rareness is unimportant
Unphased

Just be you
In this world of us
Doors closed

Trap them all out
Let's just stay here
No one will have to know

Hopefully they'll forget about us
Just for a few more hours
Have to savor these moments of you
And me
Just being us

Breathe. No one to listen.
No one to repeat.
No one to judge.
Just us
Being us.

So basically the secret fear that I've been harboring and is preventing me from being completely positive is the idea that I'll never love someone as much as I love/loved you. While you're living in happiness and love, I'll still be looking comparing each one to you. I'll question myself should I give in and confess all my built up nerves, thoughts, and frustrations hoping you'll give me something that will guide me in the right direction. But I answer my questions with "it'll never happen. let it go. how much rejection will you take?" I don't know. I'm teetering between oblivion and rejection scared of what you'll think of me. And I cushion my potential fails with excuses such as "I just want to be friends" or "I just miss your conversation" to hide my love. I just wanna know what really happened and if I even matter. I know I don't not nearly as much as I used to. I wonder if you even think of me. Speak now or forever hold your peace they said. I'm afraid to speak because I fear a response that won't lead me to peace..

So wrong its right.
My mind and heart disconnect.
They never really got along.
The right choice never really
Captivated my heart
And the wrong choice never really
Left my mind
But he’s more than what I assume.
His flaws are common for his youth.
He tells no lies.
He hides no truth.
And that is all I ask for.

And I'll never get used to hearing "I love you" each time feels like the first, and finally I can say "I love you too"

And when you say "tell me you love me, I just need to hear it" I'll always mean it. Each time meaning it more and more.

I've loved you since summer hellos and winter goodbyes.

I'd do it all over again
if it guaranteed each time we'd end up here.

Naked
Sacrifice your clothes
All those things covering your heart
Give me your body
Willingly I'll accept and feel away any
Blockade that has kept you from me
I want to feel your beautiful

Wanted to read about black girl happily ever afters and the heroine that was and loved her hero.
My pen once itched with sadness and could only bleed tears.
Needed a manual to teach me how to be me
How to love when it was too hard
Because I was too busy scribbling aching stories and screaming for answers
Not noticing the happily ever after was falling in front of me

I love you.

If you miss me like a child with widespread arms,
I miss you like an Indian summer.
Hello to fall, goodbye to summer.
All the heat in the midst.

I miss you like a goodbye that hasn't happened yet.

I'm a servant to the pages
Intruding on infinite realities to distract me from my own
She's always yelling
For a day I can be someone else
Keeping my nose tucked
Serving as a fly on the wall as all hell breaks loose
It's never over
No book between my fingertips shall prosper as long as I'm stuck in this
madness
Saddened as the thickness that once was the unknown dies out until I reach the highly unanticipated author's note
Not five minutes passed before the yelling revs up again
Like a bad engine trying to restore it's life
I want to hit the road too

To Whom It May Concern:

If I've learned anything from this, it would have been my fascination. So easily I become consumed and entranced by those that seem to appear within perfect timing. I manipulate my mind into believing in fairy tales, but ever so often I am reminded that this is Wisconsin. I am not a princess that will one day be whisked into a happily ever after, or so life leads me to believe.

Unlike a happily ever after, my story continues. No sequel to be written, I stumble through trying to regain what is left of this. The problem is that I continue. The easy way out is to stop before things get too deep, but by the time you realize the depth you've created, your heart won't leave as easily.

If someone asked me 9 months from  now if I regretted anything I'd say yes. Yes, I do regret many things. I regret showing weakness that is my constant return. My heart was always more afraid of recovering, my mind feared my sanity. I regret the vulnerability I gave, the secrets I admitted, the loyalty, the passion, my smiles. I regret allowing myself recovery then continuously bringing myself back to the same point.

For a person to give up on you while you still are head over heels hurts. Your pride goes. The second time around, I sit in the exact same position asking myself how I let this happen again. To know that the person you love is giving up on you for someone else hurts the pride more. Knowing that at the end of the day you weren't the person they wanted vulnerability, secrets, loyalty, passion, or smiles from. You came second, and it would forever remain that way.

I was in a relationship with myself maybe. Somewhere along the line I became too bold and asked you to join. I believed things were as you said, but slowly I saw them for what they really were. I fell in love with the lie, but everything I gave was real. So many poems and smiles you've inspired.

fall…
crazy hard young all at once
don't let them tell you any different
your love is strange and beautiful
it is your own
claim it and never let go

So many poems you've inspired.
The best part of me.
Words taken for granted
Although I loved and wrote them willingly.
I always knew.

Don't go falling for these Cali boys. They're undeniable, selling dreams with kisses on top. Views of the boulevards and sights of the sun. You might just find him and fall all at once.

It's a sad song hearing someone lie to themselves.
Mutually excluding love and success
Making excuses that one means sacrificing the other
They always pick success over those arguments that make you fight to stay together
Forgetting that success does not birth generations
But love always births richness

It's not your fault that the stars told you to be vulnerable. You went from not loving enough, to smothering. Mistaking constant showering of attention as vulnerability. Hanging in the waiting for him to return it, only to realize he loved you more when you held back. You were more interesting. So you tried to soak up those showers and were unsuccessful because by then the stars said it was love at first sight, that you would feel enchanted to this person whom you barely know but you've already put so much of yourself into it that you'll believe it. You want to believe it. It's not your fault you just want to be loved. Why not listen to the stars above? They're closer to god, and god is love. You just assumed they knew.

Day 2

For a second I felt missed as you yelled what was wrong with me

Then I watched your eyes roam
Then I watched hers watch you walk away.

Maybe you missed me until you saw her again.

Day 4
And I missed you painfully.
Laying in bed missing all the times I came home to your face(times).
It became my favorite time of the day.

Then I have to remember that guy on those facetimes isn't who stands before me now.
In love with someone I haven't seen in a while.

So whereas I used to fear giving a person space out of fear of being forgotten, being lived without, being replaced,
Today I realized if I am any of those things, I would be them regardless if I separated myself or not.
I will not love out of fear.
Distance and time and if it's meant to be it'll be.

I rather die alone by choice than to feel alone in another's presence.
At least I will always be mine.
I am mine no matter the day, hour, month, or phase.
Any time, any place
I don't care who's around

I am lovely and lonely
and that is better than that nausea you feel when what you thought was yours turned out to be
temporary
Your heart sinks to your gut
I don't want another person to be the reason I feel unwanted
I want my loneliness to be a choice
a temporary emotion
because I am never alone
As long as I am mine
*always

because i defend you when they can't seem to understand
holding on because i know what they don't
and it's possible they never will

because when i laid in your arms, i looked in your eyes and asked
where did you come from?
wondering how we got here
when just a week ago i was panicking at the thought of not being able to ever go there

because i watched you sleep and my heart sped up at the sound of your breath
and my skin went cold at your every touch
how did we get here?

because even as the sun rose you wanted to stay in that moment
why are you leaving?

oh, but honey

i would never.

I fell in love based on a lie. I never had to face the fact that in the end, when the ashes settled, the clouds cleared, the birds flew back north, that you wouldn't be with me. Yes you're here, but still based on a lie. When pushed against the wall, you took the easy way out. Leaving me here. My love hasn't changed. I meant every word. And I'd like to think if I was faced with the same issue maybe my love would give me the bravery to tell the whole truth. We lie to keep from hurting the ones we love. And you never really lied to me.

God presents each detail for a reason. I never question that, but I question how this will be when the lonliness fills, the hearts mend, the tears dry. But it's my loneliness, my heart, my tears. The only fear of mine is that I will regret the love I gave.