Two Voices: One Relationship; One Year

Her Words

Paradox. Thru my eyes my first year in this relationship is summed up in one word: Paradox. This year has been the most beautiful ugly I have ever experienced. We weren’t supposed to be; two tortured souls on different sides of the fence. I’m not even sure we were supposed to be friends. A slave to pain, I knew I loved you the fist time you hurt me. I needed someone to love, I needed someone to gift myself to.

His Words

I’m not even sure what the word paradox means, even though I’m a writer I suck at spelling and am horrible with definitions. If I had to sum up this first year in one word it would be, scary. I’ve spent my entire life being responsible to myself, to my own feelings. Learning to be responsible for someone else’s feelings, someone else’s heart, it scared me. I’m not sure I wanted a girlfriend or even someone to seriously date. I think I just needed a best friend. I needed that Love and Basketball, Brown Sugar, No Strings Attached type of friendship. How do you prepare for needing one thing and falling into something else?

mr-and-mrs-smith2

Her Words

I’ve learned so much in the first six months, like how it’s possible to love again. How the definition of love stays the same but the connotation changes. The expressions of love are all individualized. The allocation of love is circumstantial; and my love for the man that fell into my life was unconditional. I had never lived away from home let alone with someone. To see him have my back everyday despite fights, personal feelings, and dealing with his own demons, made my respect for him grow. All while hating his flaws and mistakes.

His Words

I should write a how to manual. How to be a jerk in six months time, how to push someone in six months time, how to lie and be unapologetic in six months time. What do you call it when you’re not a boy but you’re not a man? When you’re responsible and logical and respected but spoiled, insecure and demanding? You call it the first 6 months of this relationship. It’s not that I didn’t love her, it’s not that I didn’t want her around, it’s that I didn’t know how to return the all engaging love I was being given. Is it possible to resent someone for wanting the best for you, for seeing the best in you? Is it possible to want her to see your flaws so that your words don’t break her heart?

Her Words

The last six months unveiled myself to me. How would I deal with REAL temptation? How would I hold up under real adversity and trials? I’ve let myself down a lot over this past year. But I would redo it every time. Some are not privileged to experience what I have experienced in this past year. To find love once is rare. To experience it on this level; even more so. This year was crazy beautiful and painfully sweet. This year wasn’t fair to me. This year broke me, scarred me, aged me, contradicted me, taught me, soothed me. This year gave me valuables.

His Words

For most of my life I’ve prided myself on being a better man than my father. On being a better man than most of the men I know. This last six months have shown me that every man is one mistake, one relationship, one loving or forgiving woman a way from his own self destruction or self reflection. I have no regrets because each fight, tear, loss has lead me to this exact moment right here. In a generation of women that seem to want everything ready made it’s rare to find a woman that wants to fight the war with you and doesn’t just want the kingdom. She still talks a lot and wears waaaaay too many of my good shirts to lounge in but I wouldn’t exchange her for the world. Well, maybe the world but not a city or country or something 🙂

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told…

imagesCA455K2P Most people have these really detailed and sincere memories from childhood, they remember the first time they rode a bike or the first time they kissed a girl. I can’t say that I don’t remember those things but I can say they don’t matter too much to me. What I do remember is the first time I saw her.

Stepping out of a Porsche truck, looking like one of those women that you didn’t actually see outside of Instagram or a movie. Thick hair, flawless skin, laughing at something or maybe making someone laugh. Men like me didn’t approach women like her, steel toe boots, needing to shave, only in the Galleria to change my sisters tire while she had a back seat full of bags.

Before I knew what I was doing I was walking towards her. Her shorts were short and her blouse was loose but her shape was one that told me men never stopped coming. My goal wasn’t to get her phone number or ask her out, not that day. My goal was simply to make her smile. That’s the sort of woman she was, making her smile was equilivent to another woman stripping for you.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you but I can’t let you pump that gas while using a cell phone. You might blow all of us up and I’m starving, I’d hate to die hungry. Let me get that for you.” Before she could stop me I smiled, swiped my card and started to pump her gas. I’m not going to lie, it killed me putting supreme in someone else’s car but I was getting my smile.

“Hey girl, let me call you back, I don’t want to blow myself up.” She smiled and threw her phone in the truck. “So I don’t know if I should thank you for the gas or thank you for saving my life.” I liked that, she was gorgeous but she didn’t take herself too seriously.

“How about we just call it even?”

“What exactly makes us even?” I couldn’t hesitate, if I said something corny she would get in her car and I’d never see her again. If I said something funny she’d chalk it up to me just being a nice guy. I needed it to be more than that, when I walked over I was happy getting a smile. Now I wanted more.

“We’re even because I’ve been working around sweaty guys all day, I skipped lunch, I had to change my sisters flat and I’m probably going to be stuck in traffic but I got to chat with your pretty ass for a minute or two so all this was worth it since it got me here.”

As I talked I never took my eyes off of her. When she didn’t look away I knew I had a chance.

“You’re far too good with words Mr. Stranger to look so scruffy. My name is Cece and I have the pleasure of talking to…”

“I’m Adam.” Putting the gas pump back, trying not to stare at her neck and lips I knew this would be my only chance.

“Look, I’m really not looking forward to getting in this traffic, in thirty minutes it’ll die down. Why don’t you come have a drink with me? I’m not exactly dressed for Morton’s but Grand Lux will have me. If you don’t drink, let me buy you a couple of cookies.” I could see the wheels turning in her head, I was expecting her to say no, I’d already accepted that.

“I’ll follow you but just so you know, I may drink you under the table scruffy.”

And just like that, that’s how it started. That was the beginning of the rest of my life, that was the beginning of the greatest love story that would ever be told.

To be continued…

Love Letter #28

FB-Ring.jpg Dear You,
I went to church on Sunday and the topic of the sermon was, “How to love a woman?” I immediately thought about you. It was storming, I needed gas and to put air in my tire but I got up and went to church anyway because I had questions and where else do you go for answers? The trip was worth it, he didn’t really tell my anything that I didn’t already know but he sort of reaffirmed some things and gave me a fresh perspective.

“If you aren’t ready to be selfless and put aside your pride then you may as well stay single because marriage and relationships are about sacrifice.” It’s easy for me to tell myself I’m selfless because of what I’m willing to do but love isn’t about what you’re willing to do, it’s about what you’re willing to forfeit. Your ego tells you that it’s none of her business where you are when you leave work but love tells you to tell her exactly where you’ll be. Your pride wants to cut her off when she’s complaining but love tells you to sit back and listen. I worry that I don’t have those traits in me, I worry that I won’t have them by the time I meet you.

This isn’t my first time saying this but the truth is I’ve always thought my family would be my wife and children. That even though I have a mother and aunts and cousins and sisters and grandparents the people that I would love like no other and know they loved me back was my family. The woman I make vows to and the seeds that come from that union. I always thought that you would be my family. I think that’s why the idea that love excites me and scares me so. I think that’s why I’m such a romantic.

When I first started this blog, I started it with the idea that you would read it one day and realize how great we could be. I started it with the concept that writing would make me a better man, it would help me express emotions and thoughts I’m not able to express in person at times. As I sit at this computer waiting and thinking and living all I can hope is that I won’t let you down when the day comes. All I can hope is that I’m better today than I was yesterday and I’ll be even better tomorrow. I haven’t said the words I love you to anyone in so long. Not a woman, not family, not friends. Those words scare me but I do hope I say them to you every night one night soon.

Sincerely Yours,
Demez F. White

Another Man’s Child…

a belly “Can I touch it?”

“It’s not going to bite you.”

Two years, maybe more than that since I’d seen her. There wasn’t the awkwardness I thought there would be but it was still weird seeing her sitting on my couch. I wanted to touch it, she said it was alright if I did but it just didn’t feel right. Considering it wasn’t mines anymore. She was still beautiful, still sexy, still everything I remembered, everything that motivated me. Getting in front of her on my knees I put my hands on it, rubbed it. She giggled, she smiled, I looked up at her and saw she was happy. As long as she was happy that’s all that mattered to me.

Her stomach wasn’t big enough for a baby bump but with her shirt unbuttoned and her sitting down it wasn’t hard to tell. I couldn’t take my hand away, I kept hoping he would kick or growl or whatever babies do. I just wished he was mine, for the moments my hands were on her skin I wished we were enjoying this together and she wasn’t just here to pick up a book and see how I was doing.

The bible said it was wrong to covet another man’s wife but it didn’t say anything about another man’s fiancé. She smelled like I remembered even though I didn’t know the perfume, her hair was the same, she looked a little more mature but it fit her. I met her when she was barely 21 now she was almost 24. I met a girl, the woman sitting on my couch was a woman. She was comfortable around me, secure around me. I couldn’t deny I still loved her but I also couldn’t deny she was in love with him. Kissing her stomach while she played in my hair I knew today was only about pleasure for her. Sliding my tongue past her bellybutton I knew I’d probably never see her again but if this was our goodbye I would make her remember it.

TO BE CONTINUED….