You Can’t Cover A Gunshot Wound with A Band-Aid; So Why Cover A Broken Heart with One

heartbreak

Imagine someone you love with all your heart. Someone you would give your last for. Standing in front of you smiling and laughing and turning you on and in the blink of an eye they pull out a gun and shoot you in your chest. You don’t know why they shot you but you know you’re lying on the ground bleeding to death. They don’t call an ambulance, they don’t try and stop they blood. They simply give you a hug, say they’re sorry and ask you what’s for dinner. That makes no sense right? Even though we do it every day in relationships.

Have you ever broken a body part, cut your hand on a piece of broken glass? It takes time to heal and even when it heals, a lot of times you have to teach your body how to use it again. It’s months, years in some cases before you’re feeling right. In some cases, your body will never be the same. Hearts work the same way. It takes time for that heart to rebound from the shock of being split in a thousand pieces and once you put it back together, it’s never going to be the same.

Why do men lie when almost every woman since Eve has said, “All I want is the truth, no matter how harsh it is?” I can’t speak for most men but let me tell you why I would lie. In my mind I thought, “What I’ve done is pretty bad, if I tell her the truth she’s going to leave or it’ll break her heart. But if I lie, she’s going to stay and we’ll be happy.” The problem with that logic is that even if a woman can’t prove or doesn’t know for sure; female intuition is undefeated. She may not “know” but she knows. The truth may be uncomfortable, it may be ugly, but it gives her options. Lying robs her of those options and in turn robs that relationship of being built on something real.

Love and by extension women are not toys that you play with when you feel like it, it breaks, you lose it, you just go buy another one that you like better or that’s newer. There are consequences to breaking valuable things. Walking away and starting over sounds appealing until you realize you’ll never get in that new woman what you had in the old one. And furthermore, even though that woman is “old” to you. She’s new to another man. How many times have you been chilling with a woman, having a good time, laughing and her phone starts blowing up? She rolls her eyes and says, “It’s no one.” That guy on his third glass of whiskey, wondering why she isn’t responding. He’s the guy that thought he could do better. He’s the guy that didn’t want to put in the work to repair what he’d broken. Don’t be that guy. He has cable, be the guy that has Direct TV.

You Don’t Have to Put Her Down to Lift Her Up

182240_562470723185_118401058_31406809_1126638_n I don’t often talk in absolutes but this is the one instance I will. Some of us are really bad at being adults. What does that mean? We don’t know how to be mature and view things from the standpoint of “Everything isn’t about me.”

If you’re the type of man that has to put down the woman you used to claim to love in order to make another woman feel better about herself than the simple truth is you probably aren’t capable of loving the woman you’re putting her down for. Some relationships aren’t going to work. No matter how hard we try or how much we want it; they just don’t happen. That doesn’t mean that the love that existed between the two of you vanished. So telling the world how much he or she sucks or is worthless says more about you than the person you’re trashing.

I’ve seen people that were head over heels in love with someone in December talk about them like a dog in February. I’ve seen people that couldn’t stop letting us know when they were on a plane together or at their favorite restaurant look at that same person in disgust. When breakups first happen, they hurt like hell. There’s resentment, anger, jealously, rage, depression but at some point the sun is going to come out. That’s when you have to decide whether or not you’re going to move on.

Putting down someone us to let another person know how dope they are just isn’t cool and ask yourself one question. Should the foundation that you have with her be based on what you didn’t have with someone else?

Till Death Do Us Part

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Melanie

Looking at his reflection in the elevator, the way his eyes were burning a hole through my ass. I just closed my eyes and fought the desire to cry, to scream, to hit every button and get off at the next floor and run! My body was a resource, a tool, I wasn’t the first woman to use it to get what I wanted. What I needed.

I wouldn’t be the last.

Everything was happening in slow motion, the key card sliding into the door, the lock slipping. As soon as I heard the door slam I felt his lips on the back of my neck and his hands sliding under my skirt. The room was dark, my face and hands were on the wall, only one tear fell. I wouldn’t let anymore fall. His hand was on the back of my neck, he spread my legs with his thighs and bent me over like I was being frisked. I could hear my panties being ripped and his zipper coming down.

I could hear the ripping of the condom wrapper, his grip tightened around my neck. I was too dry when he pushed himself inside of me but either he didn’t feel it or didn’t care because he wasn’t taking his time. The harder he stroked, the harder he squeezed my neck, he pushed me down further so that my back would arch more.

His breathing, his grunts, my hand hitting the wall trying to brace myself was all I could hear and then it was over.

He stepped back and I stayed with my face against the wall, pulling my skirt down and leaving my ripped panties on the floor. I wanted to turn around but I couldn’t face him.

“I’ll keep the account with your company. If you want to branch out on your own I’ll back you.” He opened the door, the light from the hallway came blasting in. I didn’t even want to go to the bathroom and clean up. I picked my purse up off the floor and held my head up, forcing myself to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. All I recognized was the throbbing between my legs and pulsating pain through my wrist.

I stepped into the hallway, he rubbed the back of my arm and I turned around. “I’ll expect this arrangement to continue once a month and next time I want you to look me in my eyes when I’m inside you.” He let the door close and I knew things would never be the same.

But did success come without sacrifice?

A Compliment A Day

#AComplimentADay

#AComplimentADay

A compliment a day is my way of saying “Enough with social media bullying!” Instead of making fun of people or looking for reasons to be cruel, I want society to look for reasons to give compliments. It’s easy to look for the lowest common dominator to get a laugh but how would you feel if you were the person people were laughing at?

When I was younger I suffered from bullying and as I got older I bullied other kids. Never physically but I made people feel small with my words. I had someone point out what I was doing and I thought long and hard about the people I talked about.

It’s a vicious cycle and the only way to stop it is to set an example of what not to do. That example starts with adults. Our children, they only do what they see us do. Compliment a stranger, compliment a friend, be sure to use #AComplimentADay.

One voice is enough to get one more voice and then another and then another. After long we can all be a voice that affects change! So join me and help me make a difference.

~ Demez F. White

It’s Okay to Forgive Yourself

You're important. I know you are!

You’re important. I know you are!

People often talk and write about forgiving others when they wrong you. Learning to take back control of your emotions, learning to trust and love again. You see it when fathers break the hearts of their children, you see it when men or women fall out of love with their spouses or lovers. Leaving them to pick up the pieces. It’s not an easy thing to learn to trust and live again.

This morning I want to write about another aspect of those scenarios though. I want to write about learning to forgive yourself when you do wrong to others.

I’ve treated people I loved badly, did things to hurt them. I’ve taken women I could have had great situations with for granted and watched them lose interest. Friendships have come to an end because of my pride and foolish idea of respect and what a man should be. I spent so much time trying to make these people understand I was sorry, trying to get back what I lost that I forget to forgive myself. All you can do, all any of us can do is say we’re sorry and ask for forgiveness or another chance. If that doesn’t happen: cry, scream, drink and if God can forgive you, then you can forgive you. You’ll never forget how you hurt them but remembering their hurt will allow you never to hurt anyone like that again.

Life is never going to be this black and white, right and wrong concept of humanity. This isn’t a Disney movie or romantic comedy. Life will and always will be lived in the grey. Doing the right thing often times isn’t the best thing for us. Sometimes to make one person happy or even yourself happy you’re going to have to hurt others. This doesn’t make you a bad person, it makes you an adult.

~ Demez F. White

Suicide Doesn’t Make You A Coward

A lot of people think suicide makes you weak but the hardest thing in the world is to hurt yourself.

Our bodies, our minds, our spirits are naturally designed to not hurt us. It’s why a person with a gun to their head pulls away at the last minute. It’s why if you’ve ever tried to cut yourself its almost impossible.

So for someone to fight all that off and still kill themselves, how does that make them weak?

Sometimes the voices in our heads, the regrets, the pain is unbearable and all you want is it to stop. So you do what’s necessary.

Suicide isn’t the trait of a coward, it’s just someone that’s tired of fighting the demons.

We judge people without knowing their struggle. Without knowing how much they fought the pain and regret and fear.

Pray for their souls and know that if they made the ultimate decision to take their life, they must have felt there was no other choice.

~ Demez F. White

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The Language of Tears

The Language of Tears

They say eyes are the windows to our soul

How does our soul speak? With tears

 

We cry when we’re happy, when we’re sad

We cry when the rush of orgasms flood our senses

We cry when the pain of a cut is unbearable  

 

They say it’s unmanly to cry but I feel it’s the opposite

It’s unmanly to hold tears hostage

How can you truly enjoy the pleasure, the pain, the passion if you

Never cry?

 

Tears of love

Tears of fear

Tears of passion

 

Watching her pack a bag, knowing she’ll never cum at my touch again

Lying on the couch and feeling a hair clip she left behind

Taking a shower and seeing her soap

The tears mingling flooding my eyes, cleansing my soul

 

Not knowing if he’ll live throughout the night

My family crying and nervous

My tears aren’t out of fear

My tears aren’t out of hurt

The tears that flowed from my eyes were that of relief

Relief that he will be in pain no more.

 

Playing in her hair, the panties fitting her like a glove

Kissing her neck, my hands finding nirvana

With a flick of my tongue she shivers, the tears fall

 

~ Demez F. White