I saw you, and had to catch myself, from walking towards you, and acting a fool. Acting a damn fool. Why do I still have to see you? Every-freaking-where??? Have you got nothing to do? Other than be all around campus? Strutting around, in your timbalands and jeans? You don’t even like those jeans, you hate your timbalands. Only problem is; I like those jeans, and I have an even greater weakness for those timbalands…on you.

Got over you? I think not…Your brand of voodoo is some strong shit.

We only say goodbye with words…

I linger between bitterness and hate. When it comes to you, I have no reserve. I don’t try not to feel bad towards you, I don’t mask it with sacharrine smiles, I don’t even try to count down from 10. At least now…All I have is anger, spite, resentment, bitterness and hate. It was only a couple of months ago, when I laid my heart bare, broke down, and told you that if you left again I would die. I was not being dramatic. You left less than a week after. 

I died a hundred times…

I came to university, full of expectations. Before I met you, I was an idealist about all things. I believed the best in evryone, I’d give you the benefit of the doubt more than once, I wanted to be in love, with a man who wanted to be in love with me. You shattered every notion I had of romance, one by one. With every let down, with every broken promise, with every erection-fuelled apology, with every put down. But I took you back, so many times, that I’ve lost count.  I loved you, I did. I loved you, and each time you left, I didn’t understand why someone I was risking alot for wouldn’t even garner an ounce of affection for me. I changed alot during that time, I thought it was either you or nothing, I had to be with you or I couldn’t be with no one else. The winter of 2006, is one I’ll never forget. I found out all about depression then. I could not even wake up in the morning, my curtains remained shut, my life halted to a standstill, I forgot who I had been, all that had happened before you became irrelevant. Then you came back, missing me again, wanting me again, pretending to love me again. I fell all over again.

Kept his dick wet/With his same old safe bet…

I wanted to believe you had changed. That maybe you had realised you could not be without me, that I was enough, that my love was genuine. I thought maybe it had all been a test, and I had passed because now you were back. I was happy then, I fell back into our old routine. It was comforting to have you with me. At an event my friend Cici told me I was glowing, and I was inside, out. I forgave you, I ignored your sudden bursts of criticisms, your bluntness, ‘you may be attractive, but beautiful no’, I held on only to the contrived ‘I love you, I want to be with you’. So I did what I felt I had to, and I stayed. Then you left again.

And I tread a troubled track/ My odds are stacked…

It’s easy to pretend that it doesn’t hurt anymore. Why should it hurt when he’s the one who treated you like shit? You walked away, good for you!!! Why should you still miss a man who was arrogant, deceiving, hurtful? But I do miss you, and it hurts. It hurts far too much for me to express. This time when you came back, I was having fun, I refused to succumb to depression, I refused to sit and contemplate what I’d done wrong, I decided to just try and get over the situation. You didn’t let me. You called me out of the blue, became the caring man, the loving man, the honourable man. This time you came laden with promises of commitment. You hushed every question with a story of how long it had taken you to get the right amount of courage to try and make things right. So i was about to let you back in…Then it all came hurtling down, my friends set me straight. This time it was an intervention. You were simply not worthy.

I’ll go back to black…

I no longer recognise myself. I am hurting, every single day. I look at myself, and around my room and all I see is you. It doesn’t matter how many times I clean out my room, scrub my skin, who can cleanse my soul? The woman I am now, I never wanted to be. I go back to black.

Lyrics; Amy Winehouse- Back to Black

It is probably the 5hundreth time that I’m pushing my glasses back up tonight and all I can see is his hand doing it for me.  Now I’m pushing his glasses back up and he’s now smiling down at me.  He looks great in his glasses you know, he really did. 

I am convinced that this behaviour is counter-productive to my quest for Singleton status but chile…my internal movie in back on & I’m the star, just watch me…lying up on his bed in his t-shirt and his boxers with my multicoloured socks, watching some flick, holding hands with my man.  He’s given me his jumper ’cause I’m cold…

Here’s my love letter…Dear Mr Contentment, I miss you so much and I really want to marry a man with all of your qualities & much more. I really do you know.  Matter of fact I am putting it out there now-Universe my wish is your command I want to marry a man with all of the qualities that Mr Contentment possesses as well as ALL the characteristics that I have so specifically put down on my list, thank you in advance. HAHA!!!(that man is on the way-before I’m 30, thank ya kindly)

I think that I may have been exploiting him, taking his love ’cause I don’t, well I didn’t want to be alone…but I loved the way he would rub his nose with mine after kissing me or lean(should I say bend, dude is 6′2) & kiss my forehead everytime it was near his lips…it was so natural, girl my husband has gotta do that!!!

Here I am once again thinking…thinking about Mr Contentment!!!  Yeah he runs through my mind sometimes & I’m learning to live without him now. 

So I’m in the library tryna study and I’m thinking, you know, I used to love it when, he went out in the mornings to get croissants, juice and the paper, and I’d wake up to him opening the bedroom door.  Girl I even have flashbacks at this point of him kissing me as I’m waking from my slumber…now he’s staring at me again smiling when I wake up, I am still meant to be studying but I can’t help but think that I miss his five-day shadow.

I could’ve sooooo married that man and had those babies-I was Content…kissing him was amazing too, he was sooooo gentle.

Okay now, this reminiscent spin to my study rhythm is not productive at all, check me out dreaming wide awake, lying on my man’s chest & being enveloped in his strong arms.  I loved smelling him in my sheets & finding  strands of his long brown locs on my pillow or in the duvet. Ooooh chile, memories are a treasure!!!

Now me and God goin’ have ta discuss this ’cause I don’t understand why…Mr Contentment had everything on my list and he was so much more…why couldn’t I have been in love? 
 

Maybe, just maybe I might have loved him…I managed to be & stay content for more than a year…no WAIT!!! that is the loneliness talking.  The reality is that contentment was better than desolation & abandonment, I think, isn’t it? 

I’m too sad at this moment, too sad, I’m not nearly 30 but it will be arriving in due course and I’m single once more, my grandmother is telling me that she is ready to go home and doesn’t know how long the good Lord is willing to give her for her to see my wedding day.

I told Mr Contentment to go though, I did the leaving again! 
I walked away even though I promised myself never again…
I left a good man who was interested in me once again!!!  For heaven’s sake why can’t I just make something last…

it’s like a really bad love song that I can’t get out of my head. BAD BAD BAD!!! love song first it was Mr Humorous, then Mr Wonderful, later Mr Educated & now Mr Contentment.

I just don’t have the feelings, you know, that butterflies in the tummy type, that permanent smile when he walks into the room type, that I wanna get married right now & have your babies type, but then I hate the loneliness.