All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 6

I keep having these dreams. Sex dreams about me and Doe. Except his face. It keeps interchanging between Doe, Best, and then an unknown. Staring out this window reminds me of Best. He fixed it after so many months of it being broken - consequence of a drunken house guest. It's funny that the first thought that comes to me when it comes to him isn't sex. It's an unnamed feeling that holds me in place; it's almost indescribable. He is good though. We've done it in places I wouldn't even think people would have sex. He brings truth to the saying "covered the house". Most people name rooms, I'm talking spots in rooms. Don't think the hallway, think the wall of the door, no falling. Don't think bathroom, think the corner where the living room turns into the bathroom. Don't think shower, think the edge of the tub while the hot water is running....then think shower.  Maybe I'm exaggerating the spots versus the rooms but I think the pictures in my head is doing it for me.

Doe has been really sweet. Flowers every Friday. Brings home dinner, not even fussing about whenever  I don't feel like attempting to cook. The only thing I had mastered was that shrimp dinner. But the thought of making it makes me feel as if I'll get another phone call from him being "late at work" again. So I don't even bother with it. He talks to me about my book. Gives me ideas, ones I'll never use but ideas nonetheless. He took me out to an expensive restaurant when I delivered my work to my publisher. Of course I made him believe that he brought back energy into my life but really, he had nothing to do with it. And then one night he asked, "Why don't we want to adopt again?" "Again"as in we've already had this conversation tens of millions of times in the past and apparently his memory keeps slipping him after every conversation. I didn't even address him. I thought he was trying to make up for leaving me and still being married to someone else. True, marriage is only a piece of paper but legally the man has a wife. But no, he was buttering me up like hot toast to foreplay me into adoption. The only response I wanted to ask was, "What do we tell the social worker? That your wife has to pay child support? Or ask them, 'do I?'"

All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 5

Pair of lips pressed against mines as hands grab on my breasts then move to my lower inner thighs. Let the edge of your palm rub against my clit. Abandon my upper lips to make love to me down below. Stay there. Hands pressed into my own exchanging tension for tension, passion for passion, longing for longing, desire for desire. Grab me. Control me. Position me. Love me...and my body. Slow strokes to get us started. Hard thrusts in slow motion hitting that spot that sends me into exhilaration. I feel your long thickness within me. The walls of my body closing in on yours begging it not to leave but to give me more.....and more....and more.

All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 4

No position on my bed feels right. I'm tossing and turning and the music blaring from my headphones can't get any louder to drown the thoughts emanating from my head. Best hasn't called me back. I've been trying to reach him but I can't blame him. He was probably waiting for me in that bar for over two hours. I looked at my phone the following morning after we were supposed to meet up, the morning after Doe came back, three missed calls. For most men, three calls is only 1/4th of how many times they would try to reach a girl. But not Best. Best is different. And three times was a lot coming from him. Three, and all spaced out. Which means, he waited. Doe went for breakfast over an hour ago. He should be on his way by now. He has been back for only six days, not even a week, and already we had an argument. "What do we need condoms for?"  "Don't you trust me?" and "We didn't use condoms the night I came back." I didn't even respond. I held out for a day or two before he got the point... He got the point. And he knew better than to throw my infertility into the argument. Laying here, looking around the room, it's almost as if nothing had changed, as if he never left. I don't know if that's a good thing or a worse thing. At least everything is clean. We did the laundry yesterday and took all his things out of the laundry room. Of course, nothing is folded but at least there's a "clean linen" scent in the air. If only I could find my socks. Such is the metaphor of my life. The man finds everything he lost and gains maybe even more.... I can't even find a pair of socks.

All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 3

She lied. The wife lied. She never was pregnant. There never was a baby and she gives every other woman out here trying to keep a man a bad name. She knew we couldn't have kids. He told her during drinks after a meeting down in Washington. She knew that a child was what he wanted. I understand wanting a man but tricking him into marrying you?!? Desperation. I don't know how true this is but I need to believe him. There couldn't be a baby. Why/How else could he be here with me? The power of life lies within a woman and there she is spreading lies instead of life. I respected her before this...but this...this is beyond. What was she thinking? After nine months he wouldn't realize that there wasn't a baby? She claimed small pregnancy, as in she said she wasn't gaining much weight and that the women in her family usually did not gain "a belly" until the third trimester. The idiota didn't expect that he'd want to stop having sex because he was afraid he would hurt said baby. Didn't even give her the chance to really get pregnant. She kept eating a lot, no doubt attempts to put on weight, and she did, but no belly. She kept watching shows like "Pregnant and Didn't Know It" on some television network that gave her clues as to what to say/do. And I thought I was the writer. How could I blame him for her wrong? He was just trying to be a man and take care of his responsibilities and she took full advantage of him. I know he's not perfect. I know. But he was trying to make wrong, right. I can't hold that against him.

All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 2

Doe! At my door. Tears. As I pulled him in the doorway he held onto me. His tears became contagious and we sat on the couch that we made love on and fought on and fucked on so many times before. We sat there and cried together. I had no idea what was going on. But him being here, in my arms, made me feel needed by him again. This felt good - weird, but good. He stopped crying and slouched down from the couch to sit on the floor. He put his head in his hand while leaving me bewildered on the couch. I put my hand on his head and it was no longer his affected tears that ran down my face, but my own true and natural response. Holding his hair in my hands, letting my hand feel its texture as I've kept in memory for so many months. There was only one question I could ask and I tried my best to do so with as much sensitivity that I could muster, "What do you want?"  He held my hand and kissed it. He didn't say a word. He was pulling me down to him. His weight being too heavy for me, I went down to him. "What is it?" I asked, but he continued to kiss me. From my hands to my lips, to my neck, then my lips, back to my neck then my chest. Why didn't I zip that jacket up? He lingered on the top of my chest, kissing me as if - well - he hadn't seen me in months. I had to stop him. I kissed him back which threw off his senses and made him drop the tension in his arms, and with his exhalation I got up. You don't just walk in here after how many months of being away, of being married and waltz in here as if we just had a regular stupid fight. You don't just come in here after almost 6/7 months and just pretend as if you just told me about another woman but decided you wanted to work things out with me. No! You don't get to run off and get married to some younger bitch after you've impregnated her then come back to me with tears in your eyes. How dare you? Where is your bitch? You need to go home to her.  And that's exactly what I said to him...right before we had sex. I must've gotten through all of the questions, I have no idea. I think I did. I'm sure somewhere in between there I heard all the feminists out there screaming at me in my head but his cock overruled them and shut them the hell up. He was exposed in a matter of seconds and somebody needs to teach me to wear some damn pants when I'm going out. I wanted to fight him off I couldn't. I think that it excited us both. I wanted him. I had longed for him and lately even cried for him. I lost my strength but I had my man, with me, inside of me, again, and again, and again, and again.

All's Not Fair in Love and War Pg. 1

Heart stopped a moment too short. Frozen in time. Stuck between what is an illusion and what is real. Fairy tale in its true form. Somebody pinch me. Breathing becomes unnatural. Eyes dart from point to point. Breathe woman, breathe!

Inhale.

Spinning circles of time unwoven closing my mind to things unfolded. The clock continues to tick but its hands aren't moving. The air itself has been caught...off guard.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Closed minds learn nothing but open minds have a harder time finding its bearings. To learn truth is to gain power. To dismiss it is to accept it but only for a moment, no longer than that. Keeping within this space of dismissal encourages foolishness out of deliberation, deliberation of the heart.

Inhale.

Inhale.

Inhale.

Closed Doors Pg.15

I fucked up. I've never treated my best friend as badly as I have a few nights back. I feel really terrible about it. But there's nothing I can do about it. He came home and met me crying. It was a thing of the past for a while, me crying, cause since his constant presence I really had no time to cry. I've just been caught up in enjoying his company that I think I'd suppressed my true feelings about Doe being away and just kind of ignored them. It was a playlist of mine that did it for me. I was cleaning and left the music on for background noise and the album, that album, that one, came on. It was the album Doe and I played during our last encounter. It was also the album Doe played when he asked me to move in with him. It was so romantically silly. I got to his apartment late, the one I'm currently in, after I left my place out in the Stuy. We were supposed to go out that night. I rushed to get ready, put on my favorite black dress, the get it tonight shoes and when I stepped out, he had a dinner waiting for me inside the apartment. That album was playing in the background. There was a small round table I had never seen before in the middle of the living room area highlighted with a small vanilla scented candle in the middle of it and next to it,  a bottle of Pinot Noir and two empty glasses. My Best had joked when I told him the story when it happened and he said, "What? No strawberries and whip cream?"  But it was unnecessary. The dinner, of course, was take-out. Neither of us cook so that wasn't a surprise. What was sweet was when he trembled over to the other end of the table to meet me and got down on one knee. I thought he had lost his mind. We had spoken about our views on marriage and how it was all a sham, so him proposing was incredible. But then he opened the small jewelry box. It was empty. In his sweet bass he said, "You and I don't believe in marriage but if we did, I'd ask you to marry me. I'm not sure if there is a forever, but if that means being with you for the rest of my life, then forever is for me. Move in with me. Be with me and only me..."  Bullshit now but the speech he gave was enough to impregnate me that night if it were possible. I guess I should've asked if that meant he would "be with me and only me" also...   but i didn't. I assumed he was speaking on equal terms. Oh Well. The album was on repeat so we had spent the whole night being drowned in it subconsciously and so naturally it has a trigger for me. Forgetting that my best friend had turned into my Lover over the past few months I confided in him as if he were still just my best friend. He didn't talk much. He didn't have anything to say really except to tell me that he was sorry that I had felt that way. Over the next few days he stopped spending every night. Sex slowed down and eventually just stopped altogether. It was then I realized that I was a fool. Here is Mr. Perfect and I pushed him away....all for Mr. Knocked Up. It didn't take long for Best to leave. He started hanging out with a girl that he had mentioned before everything had happened. I called him and asked him to come over. We decided to meet up at one of our regular bars because he had a date later that evening and didn't want to be too far from where he lived. Excuses, no doubt, but I deserved it. I threw on my light jacket, one which he bought for me, thinking that would impress him. And as I opened the door, there he was with tears in his eyes - Doe.

Closed Doors Pg.14

I love having my best friend here. We don't argue. There's nothing to fight about. Haven't had any Red interruptions in weeks....normal. Sex is a plus plus. I think one of my favorite times is when we went to that restaurant out in the city. Co-ed bathrooms! I love it! He and I went out with a couple of friends and I excused myself to the bathroom just to double check myself and make sure everything is in place. Skirt fixed right. Tube top not slipping off. Strapless bra in place. Slight make-up, not too much, perfect. I was so into my own head at this point that I didn't realize someone had come into the room. As I'm drying my hands under one of those power dryers, a warm hand startled me gently holding my waist. By the scent of the cologne I know it's a man. No time to turn around, he puts the side of his face against mine rubbing our cheeks slowly together. It's my Best. He runs his hand under my skirt fingering me and whispers in my ear, "Would you like to know the benefits of being in a co-ed bathroom?" He walks away from me, leaving my knees weak and yet strong enough to follow him into the stall. How is it possible that the timing was just right and no one was paying attention? I don't know but that was definitely the last thing from my mind. The best part about it is that these stalls aren't just regular old, don't stand too tall stall, someone will see you. These stalls are up to ceiling length creating a private atmosphere, doors that lock with the knob, not a slide lock, and the music is so loud that being heard could only be possible if someone is in the stall with you. Perfect.  Not waiting for me to reach him, Best walked over to me, sliding his finger inside of me in a 'come hither' motion. Pulling me toward him with that one finger inside of me, I could feel myself wet on him. Everything went hazy but I am focused. Limbs loose and ready. My hands undress him. His free hand leads my own to the condom that is in his pocket. Using one hand and my mouth I loose the condom from its cover. Every time he pulls out his dick, every time!... I smile. Such a wonderful piece. A trick I learned back in college, I put the condom on with my mouth giving him a small pull and release to keep him erect. My heels bring me to the perfect height being that he's much taller than I am. He kisses me, grabbing my leg and without assistance his dick finds me and impales my body so gracefully and sweet. Caught off guard by my own orgasm my pussy pulsates clenching down on him. We beat the wall with my back and he rams into me over and over causing sweet multiple orgasmic rhythms. I should nickname him Honey Dew. We probably went to the bathroom three times that night. A condom a pocket. We just told our company, "Must be the drinks."

Closed Doors Pg.13

the sun shines on my face calming every nerve in my body and every hair on my being. the smile from a stranger can be contagious. And unwillingly but happily i give in to the grin that laces my face from ear to ear. hmmmm... the hum and chirp of the birds frees my soul to enjoy the beauty of this world. so calm. innocent. this grass feels so good below me brushing gently against my skin tickling my senses and keeping my grin. i am calm and at ease. i am untroubled by the noise of silence and gladly welcome it into my bosom. it feels good. it feels great. it feels... peaceful. i am alone but not without company. i am single and yet my steps are coupled. But the stranger is staring at me as i try to lie in my comfort. and a darkness takes over me. the grass gets wet and cold. the stillness in the weather shifts into a windy breeze. i sit up from what was once safe and look around. The stranger has disappeared but the feeling is still there. and out of nowhere he is standing in front of me. what i thought was his smile is now a maniacal grin and he grabs me with both arms.

i jumped out of my dream to find my best friend lying next to me. He is undisturbed by my nightly terrors. I hold on to him as if he were my protector against the shadows that lurk in the waiting wings of the dark. to my pleasure he is aware and he takes hold of my arms around him and holds me close. i lay my head on his body but careful not to be too close to his left side. my arms rest at his mid-section. He is such a King in his own right. he has spent every night here with me since that night of the party. No questions have been asked. No awkwardness to confront. He's just been there. I never even asked if he had a girlfriend that was fussing with him as to his whereabouts. That's just the nature of our relationship. But I don't ask questions I don't want the answers to, so I can honestly say, I don't know. His phone never rings. There are no late night text messages buzzing us awake and so far there's no brick through his car windows. So I guess he's single. It's been a month or so. But I won't let this trouble me. At this point I understand people can hide everything just by simply putting it out in the open. I'm tired of thinking too hard. I just don't have the energy for it. I'm just thankful for the company.

Closed Doors Pg. 12

Ever closed your eyes listening to "Not Gon' Cry" and imagine yourself like Angela Bassett burning that fool's clothes in his own car? But instead of smoking a cigarette, you're smoking a spliff and your hair's not short cause ain't no man worth the locks of your hair??? I have. I almost did too. The party was a success. Drinks, great food, men and women galore. I never have sausage or salt-fish parties. Those who stayed back, knew which part of the party they were waiting for. The blinds were down as usual though some of the neighbors were there too. I had men and women walking around sharing out condoms while wearing little maid costumes. Typical and yet, effective. Everyone enjoyed themselves, those who wanted to wear masks because they were "shy" were more than welcomed to and those who didn't, respected those that did. But then it happened. I ran out of the B.S.Bitch wine that I love to share out and had to go into the laundry room to get some more. Imagine me in my six inch-heel knee length tall boots, fish nets, shorts and black glittery party top abruptly stopping mid-way to the door watching this man's unclaimed trash staring me in the face. Half-drunk I stumbled in a teary half-blind state. But someone caught me. It was my best friend. I could always depend on him. He didn't wipe my tears, give me any tissues, or even a hug to go with the catch. He carried me over to Doe's pile of unwanted goods and threw me on top of it. It happened so quickly I didn't even have time to process what was happening. Apparently he was being amused at me trying not to fall down with my heels when he saw me stop. And at the first sound of tears he had had enough. Door still open, he unzipped my shorts and without taking anything else off he put his mouth on my female and began to give me the kiss that I needed. Wrapped around Doe's clothes and being fondled on top of them gave me a sense of power over him. It may have been a false power but it felt great. He ate and ate as if his mouth itself was reminding me of the power I held inside of me. I ripped my own clothes off. Not that there was much below the fish nets. And he refused to let me return the favor. And every time I tried he would force me back down the only thing that he did let me do was ride him. And that was it. I never fucked him before. We had always just been close or just talk, never did we cross those lines. But that night, we did. There was no sense of time. I didn't care about the guests. They were probably helping themselves to each other. I don't know when they left. All I know was that my best friend was taking care of me. And that's all I needed.

Closed Doors Pg.11

This woman walked by me today and I got this feeling in my stomach. It was as if my guts were literally telling me that this is the woman. Am I crazy?!? I've never met Doe's wife and yet I felt oddly piqued at the sight of this probably innocent woman and I just wanted to slap her and embarrass her. But let's keep it real. Who would be more embarrassed? The girl who got her ass kicked or the woman who beat down some pregnant chic that still HAS her man??? That's it. I'm throwing a party.

Closed Doors Pg.10

I went out on a date last night. Blind one set up from one of my best friends. The girl doesn't take no for an answer and insisted that I meet this guy she met off this website and thought we would be a perfect match. Well....she was right. We were so perfect. We both spoke about our exes; our failed relationships; what we miss about them; what we hate about them. We were sitting there at the dinner table and I guess my distractions must have been obvious and he started laughing at me. Nice guy, actually. I felt a little awkward and asked him what the laughter was about and that's when he asked me, "Who is he?" And the only reason why he wasn't offended was because he did the same thing to some other woman when his wife left him. Unfortunately for him, his wife was looking for the same thing he knew he had, a good woman. He didn't hate her and as much as I'd like to, I don't hate my ex either. Because heaven knows if he walked through that door I'd still take him back. I tried selling his things, instead I just put them in the laundry room. I locked the door to his closet. And I never changed the locks on the door in case he decided to come back. I've never been able to deny my feelings. I'd wake up on mornings and hate that. I wouldn't hate him; I'd hate the morning. I'd hate the fact that I was waking up alone and that he wasn't there to kiss, hold, or have sex with. Even if we were late and didn't have time to do those things, he was there and that's what mattered. No surprise texts on my phone telling me that he missed me. Or the surprise phone calls where he took quick breaks and we had phone sex. I wonder what he was doing those days that he didn't call..... shit, he was probably phoning that chic, or worse, actually fucking her.  So at the end of the night, my date wished me well from inside the cab. I went inside and I called another best friend. He came over with my favorite wine and for the first time in a long time I slept comfortably in bed with a man that had no plans of leaving me for anyone else. That's what friends are for.

Closed Doors Pg.9

Heading home today wasn't easy for me. I thought about coming home to the cold emptiness versus coming home to the warmth of his body. it's been two months now but March was our anniversary. Not when we got together. It was our "move-in-iversary" of when I moved in with him. That night we didn't even have sex. We just watched movies all night, stayed up talking, and fell asleep holding each other. And that's all I want now - just to lay on him, naked body to naked body, and feel as if everything in the world is in order. But now all I see as I close my eyes is him with this other woman. She has no face, no age, or shape but she has my man and his first seed and that is pissing me off. I hate her by association. I am angry with him because he left me. We had agreed before that we wouldn't get married. Marriage to us was a dictation of society, a rule to be followed. The lies this man pulled over my head and i had the nerve to believe him. It's not that he didn't believe in marriage. He just didn't believe in marriage with ME. Who would?.!?. Barren bitch. So many times I've wondered how much that one finding fact in my life altered my reality forever. "Edit my own reality" the poet once said. Yeah, sure. You plan and God laughs. We had moved in together six months or so after we started dating. And I planned a world full of traveling between us. And the only place we ended up was Apart.

I stopped masturbating. Don't even know when that happened. I think it's been a week. One minute I'm playing solo, next, there were four-five people in my bed at the same time, then... I just didn't. Food doesn't taste the same. Music soothes and annoys me at the same time and I've reverted to just watching the television shows that I used to watch. Sometimes, of course, that means the television is just off. My publicist is threatening to take back the last advance she gave me. Didn't even know that was possible but everything I write now is just shit. So I write. I trash. I write. I trash. And then...I just sit and stare at the computer as if it were supposed to start writing for me. Next thing I know I'm crying, just laid out on the chair, limbs loose, feeling sorry for myself. The last time I had sex the guy was an overweight guy who was pretty good but as he was inside of me I couldn't touch him because his body didn't feel like my ex's. So I fucked him again. And I made myself touch him. I looked into his eyes as if he were the only man in the world and the rage in me excited him and it made him cum hard. What I didn't expect was his returning penis. The recovery rate was quicker than I could've imagined. I couldn't disappoint him. I was done. The anger in me had reverted to sorrow, but I had to respect my company. The man even walked with his own lube. Hiding my face, I let him take control from behind. To his credit, he raised my body in the air and he reminded me with his thrusts that I was in the room with him and respect was due... and it was well given.

Closed Doors Pg.8

We played strip charades last night. Me and a few other friends. At the last minute, one person decided to leave. He was only the timer anyway. Which meant he would've started off as our cameraman. Then he would join in like all the other times. Stingy. It was his turn to be behind the camera but he didn't want to be in the second round. I sarcastically say to myself, "I'm sorry I don't cater to your damn superficial ego. I'll do that for my man but not for a random fuck on a Wednesday night." It was only his second time and he was already proving to be a poor ejaculation. So we continued without him. It's not as if the point was to play charades anyway. After tallying up the points already gained, the losing team had to start off by going down on the other team. I, of course, was on the winning team so I laid back legs wide open and eyes closed shut as he poured the rest of his drink on my body and he continued to suck it off of me. The top of this couch has always been painfully exciting. Enjoying his lips on my body I look over to the other two. They were having a blast. The man was standing over the young female stuffing his dick in her mouth and she, apparently the woman with no gag reflexes, was taking it as a champion - grabbing his firm ass and humming with pleasure. Watching her perform somehow excited me and tightened my grip on his thick hair. Obviously I wasn't paying attention because I had no idea when he slipped that condom on. But! I did notice when he slid his hard and oh so wonderful erect penis inside of me. As he flipped me over I see the other two, not phased by us just yet, she glanced at me and I at her, it was time to switch because they were having too much fun and the point in the first round is to tease. It's all about the pacing and we didn't want our male counterparts to tire out too early. My ex used to enjoy this game.

Closed Doors Pg.7

How many times have I laid here pretending that he was next to me and I nested in his arms listening to his heartbeat? How many times have my tears told me that this is unhealthy and that the lack of his approach speaks volumes? Knocked up and married. He doesn't love her. He never will. It's the child he wants. I remember our last encounter. He on top of me, me on top of he, he saying how much he loved me and I, I continued to straddle his groin as if my female and his being were meant to mix juices and fluids, fluids and juices that no one else but he and I could produce. But I guess that's why he chose her because they could produce something that we never could. Organically we fit into each other like....like...like...like bodies are meant to fit onto each other. No questions, no complications, we just melted into each other, lock and key, and it was just right. So how did it go all wrong? Buh-bump...buh-bump...I hear his heart talking to me; calling my name and telling me things that he never would. Betraying him, his heart doesn't see it that way because to his heart, he is betraying it. The music, the music, the music, like a screeching chalkboard it hurts my ears because his voice is the only thing I want to hear. Can I not do better than a married man who has not only cheated on me but rejected me and spoken ill of my womb as he lay with another woman?!?

(next entry)
This liquor is too heavy for me and I don't even know where I am right now. But I do know the man staring at me is about to walk over here. Doesn't he see me typing to you? How rude?!?! But he is sexy though. Strapping. Nice smile. Average mid-section. From the looks of the jeans - nice legs and big feet. He is cute. I am smiling from ear to ear. Don't know if it's because of him or this liquor is getting to me. And out of nowhere, I smell him. Not the guy staring; my ex...I smell him. His scent like the drug that intoxicates nuns and priests into professing another's faith so that they too can experience the pleasures of a normal human being and be secular like you, like me. My hands through his hair, my face against his chest, my body on his, he is...he is....not here.

Closed Doors Pg.6

I pretended not to call him today. I let the phone ring out and drunk called as if it were a mistake from my phone. But then I thought what if he demands that I lose his number? What if ... I then think to myself at least he'll call me back. I don't know what I want anymore. I picked back up smoking again. After four years of not touching a cancer stick i just, he just gave me a reason to pick it back up. At least there's something my lips get to be on at night. There it is; an equal relationship. I want the cigarette and the cigarette wants me. I enjoy the way it calms my thoughts. It enjoys the way I'm pulling on it with tight lips, holding in its presence within my mouth and blowing...... out the smoke, of course. The air is still on this cold winter night. Light snow everywhere, making everything look so pretty. It's so beautiful and clear. But here I am wondering what my ex is doing with his wife. Wife. He had to impregnate her then throw salt and marry her. Bitch.

Closed Doors Pg.5

The music doesn't help; it's his voice that I want to hear. This blanket doesn't help; it's his arms that keep me warm. The scarf around my neck is irritating because it's his hands that comfort me when he holds me there. He said three days but three turned into a month. He's gone. The candles in the bathroom are no longer soothing. The tea has gone bitter and I can't stand these damn Christmas lights. I guess that's why I threw them away. I lay here on the couch in the dark. It's so cold. So dark. The only warmth i feel is when i close my eyes and taste the tears that fall down my face because it reminds me of those passionate nights, days, and afternoons. I close my eyes now and hold my body as if trying to re-enact the first time he touched me. Roughing my female hoping to attain the same pleasure that he gave me. With my other hand I grab hold of my breasts in hopes to reproduce a similar sense of his touch. And I'm trying to reproduce a similar sense of his touch. And I'm trying to reproduce a similar sense of his touch. Trying to reproduce the sense of.... who am I kidding.... at the brink of climax I cannot continue. What good is a multiple orgasmic woman if there is no one there to enjoy it with? There is no him to enjoy it with. All I have is this music, the blanket, and this scarf to keep me warm. The tickle of my tears only brings more tears. I can't even cry aloud because Disbelief is a shocker that entertains itself. Two years, three months, five days. Oh. And a letter from him that reminded me of my empty womb telling me that the other woman he fucked is pregnant for him and that he'd prefer to be with her and their child. The apartment is mine. He said I could have it and that's the least he could do. I'm selling all his shit tomorrow. The anger that's inside of me isn't strong enough yet. The hurt that holds the lower left half of my chest is overbearing. Maybe I'll get a dog. But their loyalty is not by choice. Their loyalty is being smart. Is that what I want? For someone to stay with me because it'd be smart? And what would I have to offer other than myself. There would be no generation to follow and I don't want to adopt. Two years, three months, and five days and all I have is his scarf, the blanket we bought together, and the music we used to make love. Ain't that a bitch.

Closed Doors Pg.4

At home, making peppermint tea, to calm my nervous habits. Hot water's filling the tub in the pumpkin pie scented bathroom just for me, for one. He didn't come home last night. Said he was busy and that he had to work late. I wish he had said something before I cooked that shrimp dinner he likes. He's flying in from Washington tomorrow night. How could one meeting take three days? At least he Skypes me on his lunch break. As a writer working from home it can get kinda lonely. There's no sun outside to make me smile and the cold damp air only leaves traces of melancholy on my face evaporating from within, showing me without, with out. Background noises from the television only irritate my soul. I need some quiet but I don't want to be alone. City noises escape me and it feels as if I am neither here nor there but stuck in between and no one's paying attention. In seclusion, it's so easy to get lost and remain there. I would stare out the window but besides being broken, the neighbor's walls are distracting me with their dull red bricks and tacky Christmas ornaments that should've been taken down weeks ago. I leave my Christmas lights around the house year round, true, but at least they're inside and in the evening the warm white lights give off a soft glow within the winter white apartment. But in the daytime, like now, not even those lights could pretend to give off its façade of warmth. Maybe those toys we bought might help me feel a little better. It did just bring a smile to my face. Now there's a real reason to get naked in this cold room. Is it vain to say that I like to look at myself in the mirror? The way the curves of my body are uneven and yet attractive. If only this womb of mine weren't hostile almost barren then I'd be able to experience what a full woman's curves would feel like. But that's okay we enjoy that to the fullest. Looking at these toys I can't figure out which one would accompany me in this steamy warm bath. But I know waterproof is created for a reason.

Closed Doors Pg. 3

Every night I light a candle. A prayer...for hope....for love. My prayer is that I will remain hopeful in Love and that Love will respect me and requite what I have put forth. Maybe give even a little bit more. For what is love if not driven to want to give more, to feel more, and to desire a high like no other drug could provide.  For there is nothing more powerful than Love and therefore no drug can extend its limbs of inhalation into the veins of what Love has already provided. Love is not stupid or naive, Love is Acknowledging. It is the known and the unknown. It is the fear of all fears of never fearing at all. It is brave. It is the known that the unknown brings fear but is brave enough to fare it and move forward. Love is.

Closed Doors Pg.2

He gets up. I lay and stare up at him. We laugh. "Good afternoon," he says. "Good evening," I respond. We stay there in the dark hall talking about our day. Sweet as he is, he takes off his shirt and gives it to me. My head in his lap, he takes me into his arm and I'm staring up at him. He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. Our scent of passion lingers around us and nothing else in the world matters at this point. Just he and I, I and he, he is... he is captivating. I feel like if I'm Lauryn Hill and he's the performer who's just "killing me softly with his song" and his embrace is so comforting like being under a fluffy blanket in a cold winter's night. He is Love. He laughs at my corny jokes even I know they're not funny but he laughs anyway. He smiles when I smile and he asks, "What are you smiling at big head?" and nudges me with a shoulder rock as I'm still in the nook of his arm. He will never guess that I'm smiling at him. Lost in this moment of what I wish could last forever and we could tell the landlord,  "Here. This here is Love. Pay your mortgage with that." Hmph. If only. I can feel myself falling asleep. Not because he's boring but because the sound of his voice soothes me and brings me to a place of peace. Awakened by his soft tongue on my lips. The sensual touch of his fingers tracing the hairline on my belly arousing my senses awake and aware. I can feel his body rising, lightly tapping me on my arm. My eyes open and look into his only to be closed again accepting his gentle kisses. He takes his shirt from me and places it on the floor next to me. His arms guide me onto the warm shirt and he hovers his body over mine. He stares into my eyes. Tears of love wells up into my eyes and he kisses them. Then kisses me. Then kisses me. Then kisses me further down my body following that same hairline on my belly and continues down its path. He wasn't finished.

Ch. 1. Closed doors

*The door closed* Slammed into the cold wall and pushed up against its every grain feeling its grooves against my face. something off the wall breaks as he kisses my body tearing the clothes off my back,  peeling them off of me as if he didn't just fuck me yesterday. bitten and the pain entices me wheeling my brain into an ecstasy that could only be understood between he and me. naked and he is still clothed. can't take them off because as one hand undresses me the other locks my hands above my head knotted into the ball of yearning that seeps from he to me. his hands are so strong to me. his lips are so soft and yet his body is so hard on me. he leaves nothing on me not even a thread to hide my naked shame because to him all he sees is beauty. eyes closed because I feel as if i've been drugged with the scent of sex i am too into the pleasure that i'll be into. the anticipation alone has climaxed me. before i could take a breath he plunges into me i scream out for though the anticipation was there it's like i keep forgetting how thick his sweet phallus can be. his mouth ravaging my neck. his dick plundering all the goodness i have inside of me as i remain in the air stuck between his body and the wall that is no longer cold to me but slippery with the sweat of raw passion. slow and steady..oh! his dick is so good to me. his knees begin to buckle. i know cause his shudder was too strong to hold us both up. somehow, just somehow we end up on the floor. my spine grinding against the floor as he goes slower but stronger. and stronger, and stronger. he just came inside of me.