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


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.

Ask Me to Stay…

182240_562470723185_118401058_31406809_1126638_n“Ask me to stay.”

“If I ask you, you’ll stay, but you’ll hate me for loving me so much.”

Leaning against my truck at Bush Intercontinental I watched the tears form in the corners of her eyes and fall down her perfect face. She wanted me to ask her to stay, to grab her bags, put her in the truck and leave this airport forever. I wanted to do it… But I also knew that not allowing her to live her dream would be the most selfish act of my life. And maybe not today or tomorrow but eventually she would resent me.

I wiped a tear from her face and pulled her close to me. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, I could hear the airplanes loud and powerful all around us. I took in her scent, her feel, her essence. A year in Italy learning under the best chefs in the world and a year internship at the most exclusive restaurant in Barcelona, how could she turn that down? She was afraid, afraid of leaving her family, her friends, her comfort but most of all she was afraid of losing me. And the feeling was mutual but I couldn’t let her know I was hurting just as much as she was or she wouldn’t get on that plane.

“We’ll start off talking every day, we’ll text and Skype and you’ll write long letters and emails but over time that will fade and we’ll become two people that just use to know each other. I don’t want that to become us, I can’t let that become us. There’s so many great restaurants in Houston.” I could barely make out what she was saying with her head in my chest but I’d made the decision for us both.

When you love someone you can’t be selfish, you have to look pass your desires and needs and protect them from themselves. Two years without her in my life would be prison, would be crippling to my soul but I’d rather do those two years and allow her to grow and reach her potential than ask her to stay and not blossom into the star I knew she was destined to become. My passion was writing, she was there every step of the way supporting me  from small towns to colleges to NY and LA. Now it was my turn to support her passion. She was Picasso in a kitchen and I knew her smile and desire would turn Italy out. “You have to get on that plane and once you land don’t think about us, just think about all the work you’ve put in to get here. My love will never stop being, never!” I hugged her tighter and ignored the horns blowing.

“Why do I feel like this is goodbye?” She looked up at me with those piercing wet eyes and I didn’t have the heart to tell her it felt like goodbye to me too.

Three Word Stories…

married-w.jpgThere are a lot of words that have meaning, last night I was watching “The Words” for the umpteenth time and I remembered one of my favorite quotes. “I loved the words more than I did the person that inspired me to write them.”

Words alone are nothing but alphabets, nouns, verbs and vowels. But when you put them together they tell stories. Whether it’s one word or a book. Three word stories take on a meaning all their own.

I Love You

The three words we all long to hear, the three words that have started unions that will last a lifetime and that have been the foundation to love affairs the world loved to read about. I love you is a three word story that’s perfectly imperfect, those three words can mean you’ve found someone that completes you or it could mean someone has developed feelings and you don’t have any choice but to break their heart because you don’t feel the same way.

You can write a four page letter or a ten page text trying to tell someone how you feel but there will never be a three word story stronger than “I Love You,” because at the core of who we all are that’s what we want. Whether it’s the affections of lovers that don’t see us the same way or parents that we just want to be proud of us hearing those words have the ability to inspire and change. To motivate and encourage but they also have the ability to break us. Because there will come a day where “I love you,” isn’t a three word story meant for you anymore.

I Hate You  

Hate is a stronger emotion than love because when you truly hate someone you’re willing to sacrifice your happiness, your sanity, your compassion just to see them fall. I know it sounds poetic to use the words love and hate in the same breath but it’s more than just poetic it’s logical. Because it’s almost impossible to hate something if you didn’t once love it. “I Hate You,” is a three word story that goes deeper than our ability to forgive, it goes deeper than our ability to be rationale.

To hate someone means that you’re incapable of forgiving the sins they’ve committed against you. It means that telling that story of hate is worth the soul it will eventually cost you. A great philosopher once said that any more that goes on a journey for revenge based off hate needs to dig two graves. For even if you’re successful there is no way you can be redeemed.

I Miss You

The most sincere of the three word stories. There’s no hidden agenda or ulterior motive attached; the simple point of the parable is that my life was better when you were in it. It could be the hug you get from a grandmother or parent, the conversations you had with them when you felt like you couldn’t talk to anyone else. It could be the lover that fell out of love with you and now you’re dying slowly trying to replace that. “I miss you,” is a three word story that runs so much deeper than a man and a woman because missing someone or something isn’t always sexually or romantically based. Missing someone is emotionally based, it’s spiritually based, it’s seeing someone that has their characteristics or a trait of theirs and having memories flood you. It’s reading an old letter or hearing a song that they hated and thinking, “I’d love to see that look on their face just one more time.” I miss you is a three word story that we all have written… For better or worse.


Love Me Like You Mean It… Or Don’t Love Me At All

wpress“I can’t go into the new year like this.”

“Like what?”

She knew what I was talking about, her back was to me but I could see her reflection in the mirror. Her smile was there but I could see her hands shaking trying to fasten the necklace. I walked behind her and took it out her hands, snapped it on for her, kissed the back of her neck.

All of 2012 I’d accepted our situation, when you’re an adult there’s no victims, no naivety. I could see her on Facebook, pictures with him smiling and laughing like she wasn’t just in my bed. Houston is a big city with small circles, she’d be holding his hand, looking at me with whatever flavor of the month it was and look at me like I was breaking her heart. Silent thoughts that would explode into arguments and explosive sex a day later. Concerts, parties, restaurants, our sin was our salvation. If loving a woman that was promised to someone else was a sin I was spitting in God’s face and unapologetic about it. But I couldn’t’ go into the New Year like that… I couldn’t keep that hope that there would be a happily ever after.

“Don’t I love you like I mean it?” She turned around and pressed her head against mine. “I give you more of me than I’ve ever given him! Ever!” Her hands were on my shoulders, gripping me. We didn’t move, for a minute or two we just stayed there like that.

“What does it matter how much of yourself you fucking give me if you’re his wife!? I’m writing about marriage and values and love all the damn time! I’m going out and smiling and selling a brand that’s a lie because I’d rather kill myself drinking every night having a piece of you than live having all of someone else! I can’t go into another year like that baby! I can’t! This ends today, leave this house and I don’t want to see you again.” The words felt like acid was poured directly on my heart. I felt like a failure every time she walked out my door, every time she made an excuse for not being there when I needed her. I would take the pain and hurt into the New Year but I needed to be happy and that meant not taking her.

She pushed me away and smiled, stepping into her heels he bought, grabbing her keys to the car he bought, picking up the bag that was probably some gift from him. She looked at the picture on the nightstand of us that only I knew about. The one that only got to be up when she was here or I was alone for fear someone would recognize her.

“If I walk out that door, I’m not coming back. I know things aren’t ideal right now and I can’t say when they’ll change but if any of those women held a candle! A FUCKING CANDLE!!! To what we have then you’d be with them! You wouldn’t cancel dates and not claim those bitches for fear that you’ll hurt my feelings! You need me like I need you, don’t let your pride fuck that up baby…”

The keys tapped against her leg, I could hear her breathing. This was our routine, I tell her I couldn’t do this, she cries… I cry, my heart breaks and we fuck on the floor or the couch or the bed or the dresser and she kisses me like she’s going out for milk when she’s really going home to fuck her husband. That ended today.

“Goodbye. Loving you feels wrong and it shouldn’t feel that way.”

“Come here. Come here!” She grabbed my hand and pulled up her dress, putting my fingers between my legs.

“You feel that, you feel how wet she is, how it’s beating! I don’t shower when I leave here! I don’t go home and fuck him like I do you! I close my eyes and think about you when he’s inside of me, I cry with the lights off and run to the bathroom and throw up or shower or text you! You think this shit is easy for me! You can’t give up on us, you can’t!” She thought sex could save us and maybe a month ago, a week ago, it could have. But spending Christmas Eve alone, the thought of NYE alone, loving a woman as hard as a man can love a woman and not being able to tell a soul? I’d rather spend 2013 alone grieving the lost of the most important woman in my existence than to spend another year dying emotionally.

I took my hand away and kissed her on the forehead. “I deserve better.”

Watching her straighten out her clothes, pick up the only picture there was of us and put it in her purse. She walked out my bedroom and out of my life more than likely. I waited until I heard the German horses back out the driveway and then I fell to the floor and cried as hard as any man as ever cried in his life. I’d spend my New Year writing and making new memories, trying to forget about the old ones.

Someone That I Used To Know

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

Those may only seem like two words but when they come from someone you were intimate with, someone you talked to all the time. Someone you shared fears and dreams with, those two words are so much more. A blast text that was probably sent to a hundred people makes you simply, “someone that I used to know.”

You think about what she’s cooking, how she probably stayed up all night to make sure it was perfect. You think about what she’s wearing and how it’s going to be sexy enough to frame her curves but classy enough because she’s around family.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

It’s two words that are supposed to mean, “Have a good day,” or “eat plenty of turkey and dressing.” But instead those two words mean, “You’re just someone I used to know.”

You wonder who she’s calling to talk about how excited she is about Black Friday sales. You wonder who she has tasting the food to make sure it’s good. You wonder who stayed up with her while she was cooking because even though she hates to admit it; she hates being alone during the Holidays.

When the BlackBerry lights up and you see it’s a text from her you wonder if she’s asking you about your family or wanting to bring you a plate. You wonder if she wanted to know whether or not you miss her. But instead all you see is, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

Memories fade over time.

Romantic moments become pictures in a Facebook album or in a closet in a box.

Texts are deleted and the heart opens up to someone else.

But a couple times a year, there will always be the “Happy Thanksgiving” text of the world that remind you that on this day you’re alone. The only thing keeping you company is your words, your imagination, your memories and your bottle.

Because for as much as family loves you, the only substitute for a woman’s touch is another woman’s touch.

I’ve Been Thinking About Forever…

Dear You,

I haven’t been feeling well these past couple days, I didn’t even get out the bed until noon today. I’m about to go outside and do some yard work to try and shake off this cold or flu or just loneliness. But before I did that I wanted to write to you and just let you know I miss you.

I went and saw Twilight and the new James Bond over the weekend, I couldn’t help but think how much cooler it would have been with you. I actually wore sweat pants and Jordans, can you believe that? I was getting clothes ready and then it hit me… I’m going to the movies alone at 11am on a Saturday, there’s no need to get extra fly. I was sitting outside the theatre waiting for the movie the start and I could see you sitting across from me, smiling, sneaking candy out of your purse. Talking about people walking by but not being too mean about it.

Sitting in the movies, seeing other couples, it hurt.

If I could go back and do it again God knows I would do it over, I would do it differently. You’d be proud to know I’m not drinking as much anymore and I’m back to writing every day. I’ve started back cooking too, I sort of gave it up for awhile.

You could never really understand how much I miss you because I don’t think you were ever really for me. I think you were God’s way of giving me a preview of what I wanted, of what I needed. I just hope you’re happy.

Honestly, I can spend the rest of my life in the state of mind I’m in if it means you’re smiling. That’s the sacrifice I’m willing to make. I wouldn’t call it a deal with the devil but I would call it my way of repenting for hurting you.

Out of all the women I’ve known in my these 29.8 years of my life I can honestly say you’re the only one that has ever moved me without a kiss, a touch, any of that. It was never about that. It was about your passion for doing what you loved, it was about how you were the most beautiful woman in the room and never used it to your advantage. It was about how your faith and morals were more important than commercial success. I don’t know the guy and I’ll probably never get to know him but I just hope to God he knows what he has in you.

I go days, weeks, months without looking at your picture.

I haven’t thought about texting you or calling you for even longer stretches of time.

But just know you’re never too far from my thoughts. I’m far too prideful to make a fool of myself but just know I miss you. The little time I had with you impacted me and for that I’m grateful.


Sincerely Yours,


Perfect Person… Not Perfect Timing…

“Why do you do this to yourself? She’s pregnant and a cute pregnant too, she has the ring on her finger and the keys and cards to everything he owns. You know him.”

“I’m not doing anything to myself, I’m just looking, I can’t look.”

“You can do what you want but it’s only hurting you, so what’s the point?”

I knew she was right but I wasn’t ready to let her know that. Every time I looked at the pictures of them, of her, I was ready to scream! I studied the pictures on Facebook like I was studying for an exam. I wanted to find something, just something to poke fun at. But pregnancy agreed with her. She had a glow, fuller breasts and an ass she didn’t have before. She went from being pretty to fine all because she was carrying his baby.

My roommate was the only person that knew I was becoming a borderline stalker in my spare time. I never liked or commented on anything but I checked his page faithfully to see him bragging about the son that was coming.

12:24am On my way to CVS for some ice cream and snickers, then to Taco Bell for a Mexi melt, my lil man is going to be a linebacker or o-lineman with the way she’s eating.

3:34am She’s having trouble sleeping, if she’s not sleep I can’t sleep. I put on some Raheem DeVaugn and rub her feet, they’re a little swollen. Talk to him in her stomach, let him know to take it easy on her. I know she’s ready for him to be here, damn I love this woman.

6:45am On my way to work, I thought hard about calling in but her sister is coming over to keep her company and plus I think she’s tired of me lol. Lakers tip off tonight, D. Howard and Kobe = Championship!

I knew him better than anyone, I knew he wasn’t putting on. He meant every word, he would have taken off six weeks if she asked him to.

“Let’s go to Sugarhill or 5th Amendment tonight and drink and dance our lives away. I’m off tomorrow and you’ve already given your dissertation and killed it, we need to celebrate chica!” She was dancing around our two bedroom apartment like we were already in the club. I had no idea how she was so comfortable being in just her panties all the time, if the windows were open guys were getting the peep show of their lives.

I shut my laptop and poured myself a glass of wine. I didn’t cheat on him, I didn’t lie to him or steal from him. The sex was great and our chemistry was off the chain, wearing his hoodie and laughing at my silly best friend moonwalk across the floor all I could see is him holding her, kissing her, proposing to her. All because I chose my career, my doctorate, my passion over him. He asked for my hand in marriage and Northwestern asked for four years of my life. A part of me felt like if he loved me he would have came to Chicago with me but his family was here, his career, his writing. I chose to have a Dr. in front of my name and he chose to kiss me goodbye. I wasn’t built to be the other woman and he wasn’t built to be a cheater. So where did that leave us? Friends… friends that needed to taste and touch and swallow each other? Fuck life…

“Ger out of dream world Lex! Fuck him! It’s his lost! I love him like a brother but if he couldn’t support what you wanted to do move one girl! You’re killing my buzz being sad all the time. You’re a freaking doctor and you’re bad as a two year old!”

I smiled even though I didn’t feel like smiling. My girl was my girl but she was a man eater, if they weren’t on her schedule or her plan they were out of there. I respected her for that but I knew she had a lot of heartbreaks to get there.

“I’m going to get ready, I do need to get out.” She pulled me up and kissed me on the lips, she was so extra.

I went to my room and locked the door. I don’t know why but I needed to hear his voice, to talk to him. His number wasn’t programmed in my phone but I knew it by heart. I didn’t think about it, I just called… He answered as soon as it rang, I could tell he was excited. His voice sounded the same, he sounded happy. I said hello, I said I just wanted to congratulate you on the engagement and the baby. He told me he’d seen on FB that I was officially Dr. Alexis Sinclair now and that he was proud of me. We were quiet, we were reading each other’s mind. We were always reading each other. He said it should be me having his baby, that he still loved me. I cried and told him I still loved him too and that he should have waited. We were quiet again and he asked to see me. I was quiet and I told him no and hung up the phone.

We couldn’t be friends, our chemistry didn’t rock like that.

I asked God to be a doctor and he gave it to me.

I didn’t know it would cost me the love of my life.