Sometimes Your Heart Needs More Time to Accept What Your Mind Already Knows

bed1I haven’t been writing on www.demezw.com as much as I have in previous years, focusing on finishing up a couple novels but sometimes you see a quote that’s so perfect you have to get an article out of it. “Sometimes your heart needs more time to accept what your mind already knows.” Perfectly sums up what a lot of people are going through in everyday life.

I’ve gotten back to my roots of being more of a reader than a writer in the past couple months. Whether it’s novels, articles or blogs; I’ve allowed my mind and imagination to become a sponge. I see a lot of articles on relationships and what you should or shouldn’t accept. So much of it is black and white. When the truth is, relationships are rarely black and white; the same can be said for most aspects of life.

We are not robots or computers that can act without emotion. Pain, pleasure, passion, heartbreak, love, depression, these are all traits that make us who we are and sometimes traits that override common sense or the logical choice.

Knowing what you need to do is completely different than actually doing it. I can quote song lyric after song lyric about the woman that’s in love with a man she shouldn’t be in love with. Whether it’s Country Music, Rock, Blues, Hip Hop or R&B. That feeling is universal because love is a universal language. I’ve watched Operas that were in Latin or French and couldn’t understand a word but through music and emotion I was able to feel it.

The “feeling it” aspect to life and love isn’t something you can quantify or control. It grabs you and smothers you until it decides to let you go. That’s your heart telling your mind, “I know what we have to do, I just need a little more time.”

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.

Five Reasons Why Some Women Are Just Irreplaceable…

imagesCAWYOAZS Reason One- I once read an article that said it takes twice the time you were with someone to get over them. So if she was mine for a year it will take me two to get over her, if I was with her for ten, it would take me twenty to get over her.

When a woman is around you for a period of time and everything she does is simply perfect or she can do no wrong; she’s become irreplaceable simply because she was there for you in the times when you felt like the world was against you.

Reason Two- Every woman feels different, the texture of her skin, the smell of her hair. The size of her nipples or the way she moans when you touch her. Some moans are just perfect, some lips are just wetter. Some kisses are just sweeter.

How can you replace perfect lips?

Reason Three- If she loves what you loves, genuinely loves it, then you just know it’s meant to be. When the day comes that some bullshit that has nothing to do with the two of you breaks you up that doesn’t change the fact that she still put an imprint on your life.

Regardless you’ll still see her face in every woman you’re with. And how can you move on when that’s the case?

Reason Four- Who do you want when you’ve had the worst day ever? Who do you need to talk to, need to hold you and tell you it’s going to be okay? That person doesn’t grow on trees. And if she’s that person; until you find someone to do what she did you’ll forever be on some other shit.

Reason Five- Not every woman is created equal.

Wantfulness…

dress-naked.jpgI honestly don’t know which I enjoy more. Taking a woman’s clothes off or watching her put them back on. I know it’s a Sunday and I hope the Lord forgives me for these explicit thoughts that are in my mind but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about sex.

This could be a product of our oversexed society or this could be a product of me not being inside of a woman for awhile but either way these thoughts are driving me crazy. So instead of going thru my phone and making a call I shouldn’t or watching porn I’ll write about it.

Lying in bed, my back against the headboard, music playing. The ceiling fan blowing what feels like hot hair because I can’t get my heart beat to slow down. Watching a woman stand there naked, not really sweaty but not really dry if that makes sense. A glow on her face, stepping inside of her panties or putting them in her purse. The curvature of her ass and hips befitting of the moment, hard nipples that haven’t realized the pleasure has come to an end.

Flash backs of the intense and nasty moments playing in my mind as she tries her best to fix her hair. Me trying my best not to pull her back on the bed and do what both our bodies are screaming for us to do. There’s not a thin line between desire and patience, the line is thick and welcoming. Once the flood gates to desire open there’s not really any turning back. I’ve written this a dozen times, sex was made for marriage because there is nothing on this earth more powerful. No feeling draws you in as deep as the feeling of wantfulness.

Four Pleasures Taken for Granted…

imagesCAPJJTL9One- Wet Kisses- There’s a moment, a moment of absolute lust and desire and bliss. That moment is when you come up from tasting her, her juices still on your tongue, her body still shaking from the orgasm and you kiss her. She’s still trying to catch her breath, you can feel her heart beating and she sucks “her” right off your tongue.

It’s incredibly nasty, incredibly arousing and perfect. Her legs open wider and your fingers find the spot where your lips left off. The kiss isn’t just a kiss, it’s a promise of closeness and trust and vulnerability. That kiss has no shame, no embarrassment, no regret. In that moment of vulnerability you know that she isn’t afraid to taste herself she knows that you aren’t afraid of how uninhibited she can be.

TwoMasturbation– This is sort of piggybacking off of one. The older we get the more we take masturbation for granted. Especially the watching and participating part of it. There is nothing more attractive to me than watching a woman touch herself. I can never know her body better than she can know her on. Sitting back and watching the rhythm in which she moves her fingers, the timing in which she brings herself to climax, it’s Oscar worthy. Have you ever been driving and looked over to see her fingers in-between her thighs and her head tiled back in pleasure? Have you ever opened your phone and saw a video that she sent you that you knew you shouldn’t be watching in public. The mental stimulation alone is mind blowing.

Three- Pain and Pleasure– Don’t knock choking until you try it. Not “I’m going to kill you choking,” but slight pressure that makes it rough and volatile. Whether it’s on the back of her neck when she’s on all fours or up against a wall. Biting in places she’s only going to see when she’s in the shower or getting dressed. Below her belly button, upper thighs, lower back. When pain is placed just right the pleasure that comes from it just works.

Four- Four-Play– Do you know what I love about cooking? It isn’t eating the meal, I could go to a really nice restaurant and eat a great meal. What I love about cooking is knowing that I started from scratch, knowing that I got to taste test everything and boil the water, grease the pan and cut the vegetables. I look at women the same way, kisses from behind while she’s opening the refrigerator. Her hand in my leg in the movie theater or when I’m driving. Sitting on my lap when I’m typing or her head on my shoulder when we’re watching a movie at home. Four play isn’t just those moments right before Heaven but it’s the moments that make us feel like this is our first time. You’re never too old for simple pleasure.

 

Five Traits Men Have that Boys Don’t…

naked-thighs.jpgI have a Blackberry so my only access to Instagram is the pictures I see on Facebook or Twitter. However, I often see these quotes and words attributed to pictures and I think what’s happened is people have started to set expectations that are just not real. You have to crawl before you can walk. If a man cares about you, he’ll be honest with you.

Telling a woman we have to do Redbox and eat dinner at home for the rest of the month because I had to spend a thousand dollars on truck parts doesn’t scare me. Spending time with my grandfather or talking about God with my grandmother isn’t a chore for me. Women are going to have cramps and wear big panties (hopefully not too big). They’ll be real conversations about bills and old loves that brought her to her weakest point. I can deal with these things because I’m a man. Two years ago, I probably couldn’t have. The difference between men and boys is that you can’t be selfish or prideful because those traits won’t allow you to ever make her happy.

Four- Sickness and in Health– Have you ever been around a woman when she’s sick? Not a small cold or a headache but an actual virus. Throwing up, running to the bathroom every 15 minutes. Bad breath and Lysol. Soup and orange juice. There’s nothing scarier in the world than having to clean up that bathroom after she’s destroyed it. Having to literally bathe her and change her clothes and get her in the bed. Boys run from this because “It’s not sexy.” Men have no choice because you love her.

Three- They have wings? – I’ve personally never had to go pick up tampons. I thank God for that but if I was asked I’d go do it. My logic is it’s crazy to have sex with a woman, to put your mouth in and on certain places… but you can’t go buy tampon? I wouldn’t be excited about it or go in Target or Whole Foods but I’d over pay for some at the corner store. It’s not that men think that periods are nasty or a “woman thing.” It all comes back to pride. Why is she making me do this?! You’re doing it because she’s either not feeling up to it or doesn’t want to bleed all over the hallway or your good towels. Boys whine, men just do it.

Two- Women with Children– Children are needs, whiny, spoiled and in some cases just bad. As a man I can never ask a woman to choose her child over me because two things can happen. The first is she tells me to go to hell and I never talk to her again, the second is she actually sends the child off to his father or a grandparent. Either way our relationship will never be the same. Men accept the children that come with the women because you know they’re a package deal. The same way she has ten toes and ten fingers that child is a part of her. Boys get mad that she can’t spend enough time with him. Men step up and offer to come to that little league practice or take them out for pizza.

One- Sex- Women love sex just as much as we do but understand this, there will be plenty of nights where sex will just not happen. Boys decide to tell themselves, “If she won’t give it to me, someone will.” Men ask questions, make her feel loved when she doesn’t feel sexy. Talk to her about whatever stress has her not wanting to be the freak you fell in love with. Believe me when I tell you… there’s always a reason for the well closing. It’s never, “A headache.” Boys go elsewhere and widen the gap, men stay and hide their frustration until she realizes you aren’t going anywhere.

 

 

Once A Good Girl Goes Bad… She’s Gone Forever

STUMBLR-sex-and-sexuality-24383985-467-700I write often, I love writing, but it isn’t how I pay my bills. I build and fix highways for a living, I see a hole or crack and I tear out the old concrete or asphalt, clean it out and pour some new material in there. In a matter of days it goes from potentially dangerous to brand new. People literally don’t even slow down, they just enjoy the new ride. But what they don’t realize is that even though the road feels smoother and rides better is that once it’s compromised it will never be the same. Because you’ve messed with the original makeup.

Women are mostly good by nature, I’m no genealogist but people aren’t born bad. You see these women that prostitute or strip or are bad mothers, 9 times out of 10 they had childhoods where they were neglected or abused. Teenage years were they got used or picked up, college years where she got date raped or played by a guy she thought loved her. Even if a woman can come back from 1 or all those things the bottom line is that good girl is gone now. Because she’s been exposed to the real world. The world that’s vicious and will eat you alive if you turn your back to it.

We see these women on FB or Instagram showing the world their bodies. We see women fighting over men that have little to nothing financially and even less morally. We laugh at them, feel sorry for them, judge them but what very few of us do is realize that she wasn’t always that way. Whether it was a father leaving, an uncle doing something he shouldn’t have been doing, a mother neglecting or a man turning her heart inside out something changed that good girl. And once innocence is lost, once anger overtakes fear. That good girl is lost forever.

Sure, maybe she’ll get to a place where she can find happy. But she’ll never love or trust the same way she did, she’ll never give a man so much of herself that she loses herself.

Think back to your first love… Not your high school or college crush but the first time you fell so deep for someone that it scared you. I’m talking you gave all of yourself with no hesitation because you just knew he or she would never let any harm come to you. That feeling of joy and happiness when you love like that is immeasurable because that’s the way God intended for a man to love a woman. That’s the first time we not just have sex but make love, your soul and body are one and life seems perfect. Now remember how it felt when that came crashing down. When he let you down or when you let him down and that hurt and pain changes you as a person. You aren’t so willing to love that hard again, you aren’t so willing to give so much of yourself that being without him or her literally paralyzes you. That good girl, the one that could only see the best in you is now cynical and not willing to let someone get close enough to hurt her like that again.

Once that foundation has a crack in it… It will never be the same no matter how many times you repair it. I’d like to think I fix a heart or help fix a heart every once and awhile with my writing.

Good Morning, I’m Demez F. White and this is demezw.com.

 

Why Do You Love Me?

Love-sex-and-sexuality-30837383-500-332.jpg“Have you ever loved anyone as much as you love me?”

“I don’t think there’s ever been a man that has loved a woman as much as I love you.”

“Why do you love me?”

It was a simple question, a five word question that required a lot more than five words. Her lying on my chest, naked, dried sweat and the smell of sex in the air I could have said. “I love you because I have never met a woman that turned me on more than you.” But that didn’t do my love justice.

Feeling the scratches on my back, the bite marks on my neck, and the soreness in my thighs. I could have said, “I love you because I have never met anyone as passionate as you, as sexually aggressive as you are, someone that could match my intensity. Look back at me, bite her lips and smile.” But that didn’t do my love justice.

Closing my eyes and imagining creating a life with her, seeing a little boy or girl that looked just like her or had her mannerisms. Her smile, her laugh, her traits, her eyebrows. Seeing a future past our naked bodies in this bed, wanting to live in this bed, not sexually. But live in this moment, her warm body on mines, her essence and my essence one in the early hours before the Sun rises on a Sunday. No music playing, no television on, just her waiting for me to answer the question, “Why do you love me?” And me saying, “I love you because God created you and I for exactly this moment.”

She turned over, her breast pressed against my chest, her chin on my collarbone. “Sometimes I don’t know when to take you serious. I wonder are all these perfect words and moments you or the writer? I feel stupid for questioning something that feels so right but I am waiting on you to stop saying and doing all the right things because what scares me is that I’ve already started to expect it. And when you expect a man to be perfect, I won’t be able to forgive you if you let me down.”

Sincerity in her eyes, conviction in her words, emotion in her thoughts. I wanted to tell her that she was crazy, that she shouldn’t question my love, that she’d never have to worry about me hurting her or letting her down. But is that a promise you can make someone? Because no matter how good you are, no matter how good your intentions. There’s going to be a moment where you fall, where you fail, where you come up short and when you project perfect can you even blame someone for feeling like you dropped them from the moon?

“I’m afraid of losing you. That’s why all my words sound so perfect and why my actions match. I’m afraid and that’s why I treat you like you’re a prize, like you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you are. I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you but I will promise it will never be intentional and that as long as I’m living you’ll be safe and loved and provided for if you need that or want that.”

“I’m changing. I’ve stopped hanging out with my friends, my mom blows my phone up because I’m talking to you every morning instead of her. I’m excited about our dinners and talks and sex. I don’t want to be the woman that’s ignoring the life she had because of a man but that’s who I’ve become and I don’t feel bad about it because you’re a hell of a man. Just don’t make me regret it baby, I’d hate to stab you.”

I laughed, she didn’t, she didn’t even blink.

“I’m serious. When you love someone or anything as much as I love you it has the ability to hurt you. I’ve loved one man the way I love you and that was my father, her left us when I was twelve and started a new family. When I would go visit I felt like I was watching another man, he looked at his wife and children the way he used to look at me and mom. I hated him for that. Don’t be this man I put my faith in and then let me down. If this isn’t you, let me know now, but if it is…”

Wiping her tears, pulling her on top of me, her face in the crook of my neck. Her body shaking from emotion there was nothing I could say. Holding her, caressing her, feeling her heart beat. That was enough to let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.

Her tears turned me on, my warmth turned her on. Rubbing her body on mine she place me inside of her. We were both sore but that didn’t stop us, feeling connected, feeling like this bed was our Kingdom.

“I love you because I don’t know how not to.”

Love is War Passion Pleasure Pain and Fear…

Couple holding handsLove is War

Love is war because love is fighting for what you want. Fighting for what you believe will make you happy. Fighting for that woman that will change your life for the better. War isn’t sexy or romantic or sweet. War leaves wounds and scratches and causes nightmares and there’s no graceful defeat if you lose because to lose means to have your heart ripped out. Love is war and love is worth the price of war!

Love is Passion

Love is cold wine and hot sex. Love is arguments that seem some intense and serious but only lead to sex on the couch and pallets on the living room floor. Love is jealousy and insecurity because you don’t think it’s possible for someone to be as passionate about you as you are about them. Love is watching her cry and wanting to absorb that pain so that she never feels it again. Love is passion and passion is violent and sexy and gives us life!

Love is Pleasure

Love is the feeling of her legs wrapped around your legs on a rainy Saturday morning. Love is that sensation you feel before you place yourself inside of her. Love is her skin moist from just getting out of the shower. Love is her heart racing because your tongue is racing. Love is hard nipples and goosebumps. Love is wet lips and wet spots. Love is explicit good morning text and panties in her purse. Love is pleasure and pleasure is addictive.

Love is Pain

Love is not being able to eat when she doesn’t answer your phone calls. Love is a pounding headache when she’s mad at you for not bringing her something to eat because she’s cramping. Love is that moment of emptiness when you’re inches away from her but she doesn’t want you to kiss her. Love is pain because true love affects not just our heart but our physical being.

Love is Fear

Love is wanting her so much that you’re afraid everytime you talk to her will be the last time. Love is seeing her talk to another man, smile at another man, laugh with another man and wanting to destroy him! To make his life a living hell just because he’s getting some of her. Love is her telling you she needs space and you fearing the worst. Love is crying in the dark because you know she doesn’t love you like you love her and that fear is tearing at your essence. Love is being scared that you can’t please her, that can’t give her what she had before you or what she desires. Love is fear and fear makes us work that much harder for the love we crave.

Love is a lot of things but most importantly love is worth all those things because to be single, to be without that feeling of love…. It allows you to appreciate everything that comes with it, all the emotions, all the passions, all the fears and tears.

I love the idea of love because I’ve loved and lost and realize how much better than made me.

 

 

My Girl Has A Girlfriend…

“We’re not doing this in our bed. Don’t think too hard, don’t call me. Just meet me at the Magnolia Hotel, the front desk will tell you what suite.”

The note was pinned to the refrigerator. Written in red lipstick on pink paper. I read it three more times to get some clarity but the more I read it the more my mind was going crazy.

“We’re not doing this in our bed?” Was it syrup or whipped cream? Was it going to get that messy?

A quick shower, traded in my steel toe boots and polo shirt for a light sweater and slacks. Don’t call, don’t text is what she wrote. She wanted me to lose my mind thinking, she wanted me to be surprised.

Valeting my truck, ignoring the increasing thunderstorm falling down I walked in the lobby. Told the man behind the counter my name and he smiled and told me the suite was on the 5th floor. It was the only one on that floor so I couldn’t miss it.

For whatever reason his smile had me wondering what he’d seen that had him giggling.

Knocking on the door, smoothing out the cashmere, I stepped back from the door when a woman that wasn’t my wife opened the door.

“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong room.”

She laughed and reached for my hand, “You don’t remember me do you? We met at Whitney’s graduation party and we’re FB friends. You have the right room.” I let her take my hand.

“We’re not doing this in our bed.” The words made sense now. The woman in front of me who’s name I still couldn’t remember was gorgeous. A short hair cut, toned body, full breasts. She wasn’t naked but I could tell she wasn’t wearing much under the short silk robe. And from the two bottles of empty wine on the table I could tell she was tipsy.

“Where’s Whit?”

“She’s went downstairs for a massage. She wanted us to talk first, she wanted to make sure you like me. Said you may not feel comfortable?”

“I am a little surprised but I’m not uncomfortable. Did you and my wife do things like this before we were married?”

She sat on the bed and sat Indian style, she definitely wasn’t wearing anything under the robe.

“Your wife has always been the life of the party and the leader in the room. Me and Whit have had some adventures. After school I put up my laptop, cell and traveled the world. Half my family thought I was dead, I got back and found out Whit was yours and not mines anymore. I’m your wife’s ex- girlfriend and she brought me here today to give her husband an early Christmas gift.”

She stood up from the bed and let the robe fall to the floor. Like it was all planned or just perfect timing my wife walked thru the door and kissed me on the lips. Stepping out of her tank and sweats she pulled the woman close and kissed her like I’d only ever seen her kiss me. Turning her around, standing behind her I watched as she traced her body and and sucked her neck. She was in complete control. Don’t just stand there husband, she’s your too tonight.

To Be Continued…