Stop Waiting Until You’re the Best Version of Yourself Before You Let Someone Love You

thumbnail_img_2527 Yesterday I saw a lot of people that weren’t feeling Valentine’s Day. I’m not here to jump inside the minds of these people but I do know a lot of them didn’t seem very happy. Some were bitter, some were down right mean and a lot were genuinely sad. The ones that stuck out to me the most were the ones that want all of us to know they’re waiting on themselves. “What’s the matter with me building myself up and finding myself before I find love?”

I feel like being transparent today. The sort of honesty that’s uncomfortable but necessary at times. I think it’s bulls*it when I hear guys say, “I’m not trying to be in a relationship or date or take any women serious because I’m trying to get myself together first.” I think that’s bullsh*t because I was once that guy and the logic makes no sense. Think about it, women make us better, they always have. If you’re working and trying and you meet an amazing woman. Are you letting her go because you’re making salary instead of owning your own business? She’s probably the piece of the puzzle that’s going to get you your own business.

I can’t take any man seriously that’s afraid to love a woman. That’s afraid to be vulnerable, that’s afraid to take a chance on what could be the most amazing experience of your life. I see these guys that pretend they aren’t ready for anything serious because they simply want to be better prepared for their “future wife.” That would be noble if you weren’t sleeping with women, lying to women, leading women on. You can’t pretend to be this man of principle when you’re a whole man thot out here. It takes courage to stop looking for notches and options and to start investing in a dope ass woman.

Anything I write, I write from a place of experience. It’s not a good feeling knowing that there are women out there that really liked me and I was an ain’t sh*t dude to them. It’s not a good feeling having an amazing woman ride for me and people remind her of my past. These are things I have to live with and part of my journey is learning to forgive myself and being honest in my writing. It’s not okay to ignore love because you think you may find better or you want to go play. Grow up and when you have someone that makes your heart flutter and wants the best for you, take her hand and take that journey. Maybe it doesn’t work but you tried and you loved and you’ll crave that feeling again.

Yesterday was my two year anniversary and she’s pushed me in ways I didn’t know I could be pushed. That doesn’t mean there weren’t times where I thought I would lose my mind but that does mean there has never been a time where I questioned whether or not she had my back. I’m a better man not just because I’m older or wiser but because I’m in a relationship that matters.

Relationships matter.

Looks Best When…

182240_562470723185_118401058_31406809_1126638_nWritten By: Sapphire and Demez

She Looks Best When She’s In…

The first time I got a shirt printed with my book cover on it, with my name on it, all I could think about is how she would look in it. You know, that moment when she comes over for dinner and she doesn’t plan on staying put there’s too much wine, too many laughs and all of a sudden she decides to spend the night.

“Give me something to put on.” She says it knowing it probably won’t stay on long anyway but seeing her in my t-shirt does something to me. The way she takes it out of my hand and undresses with the bathroom door slightly open. The way she walks out the bathroom, the t-shirt sticking to her curves because of the moisture. The way it’s a little bit too small because all I had was a small left. I probably could have given her one made for a man but I like the ones made for women on women. It’s why I paid extra for it.

“I have some lotion in my purse, hand it to me.” I keep Dove body wash in the bathroom closet just in case she decides to spend the night, the soft smell makes my house feel more like a home, her thighs are touching in the t-shirt, even tipsy and with the title of my book on her chest she sits like a lady.

I’m so busy staring that I don’t hear her calling my name, I don’t see her handing me her phone. “You iPhone people and those horrible cameras. Use my phone, take some pictures,” she says. I see the seriousness in her eyes, the way she licks her lips. Sitting back on the couch I’m watching her thru the camera on the phone the size of a tablet. Tonight in my t-shirt she’s Mona Lisa and I’m Picasso.

He Looks Best When He’s In…

There’s something damn near edible about a man wearing a tailored suit, I can’t quite put my hands on it and yet I wanted to put my hands all over him, run the tip of my fingers from the width of his shoulders to his length and watch him get lost in the feel of me feeling all over him.

I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d seen him in J’s, a wife beater and jeans a million times but even in that, every time I saw him was better than the last, causing my heart to skip several beats and that girlish grin and blush to cover my face in a warm glow; instantly making me feel like I was in high school all over again… Daaam there was nothing like that feeling. He was gorgeous in his “dough boy” basics, his swag on 20, with his no nonsense attitude all into me and visually devouring every inch that he saw. That’s how I met him, looking absolutely delicious and every inch of him screamed “trouble.”

Good, that’s exactly what I needed to jumpstart my transition into my newly “single” status. I’ve always had a thing for bad boys, tattoos, and trouble and he says he has this crazy fixation for redheads with tongue rings and sassy attitudes; check and checkmate, guess we’ll both have our hands full. We exchanged numbers me locking mine into his phone, him sliding his in my back pocket, gripping tightly and pulling me in close, smelling warm and intoxicating and reminding me of something unexpected like receiving a note asking to check a box to be his girlfriend.

Cute, I love originality but those sloppy, wet kisses from my cheeks and ears to my neck and chest was absolute “D-boy” action and they were doing the trick. He placed those soft pillows he calls lips on mine and I reciprocate, devouring and sucking on his bottom lip, feeling him go hard and soft at the same time; he ain’t ready for this action and its’ been a long time since a man had been this close; hopefully I can behave myself but I refused to make any promises.

She Looks Best When She’s In…

“What are you doing after work?” It’s the question she text’s me after lunch. I sat back and looked at my phone, wondering if I should tell her the truth or make something up that sounds more exciting, maybe something funny. It’s a beautiful day outside though and the last thing I want to do on a beautiful day is be in the house.

“I’m cutting the yard and washing my truck. Maybe I’ll BBQ if I can get the fire started before it gets dark.” She’s not the raking leaves and washing a truck type so I expect her to send me one of those silly emoji’s she loves, instead she sends, “Cool, I’m going to help you, I’m coming over after work.”

Standing in the backyard, I see her walking towards me. Ripped jeans that show bits and pieces of those pretty legs of hers. Jeans that look amazing on her but the mosquitoes and thorns on the bushes will love too much. A long sleeve flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows, one of those shirts that looks worn but you can tell it’s new. Her hair is in a bun, she’s wearing some Timberlands with the jeans inside.
We both know she’s not here to work, she just hates being home by herself on the weekends. She’ll take a bath in Off and sit on the porch drinking beer and watching me work. She looks best when she looks comfortable, when she looks like she’s at home.

He Looks Best When He’s In…

We met up later that night so of course I’m late, quite naturally, but I’m as flawless as someone this nervous could be and worth every extended minute. I pull up next to him all calm and collect, hands moist, heart racing and every bit excited about the possibilities. He sees me, primping nervously, stands in front of my car to ensure that I get a full dose of what he had to offer; I almost lost it. Mouth-watering, panties soaked and holding on to every pulsating ounce of me that begged to be held and stroked by him, by this insanely gorgeous man wearing the hell out of every stitch in his black, tailored suit. I leaned back in my seat and got drunk off the power radiating off him, compelling me, absolutely begging me to submerge myself in his everything, to lose my life in his passion; to allow him to momentarily dictate and dominate me. I exhaled the high he placed me on loving the trip that he was taking through my veins and allowed myself to get lost in him. Hmmmm, he was delicious.

Dinner was beautiful, the conversation and wine was flowing, his words were profound but all I wanted to do was sit on his lap, rub my face in his beard as he whispered poetry in my ear. I wanted to get lost in every syllable and vowel, wrap my fingers around his tie, draw him in closely and nibble on those lips where those beautiful words mixed and mingled with the wine that was already invading my system. I wanted to massage his broad shoulders through the fabric and allow it to hypnotize me until I was unaware and uncaring about our surroundings. There was something about him in his suit that caught me completely off guard and totally open and receptive to everything that he had to offer and he knew it. He led me back to his car propped me on his hood, slid in between my legs and nibbled and sucked all over my neck, reminding me of what it felt like to be wanted and desired; of what it felt like to be needed, to be loved if only momentarily. I basked in the moment, in the glow of it all daring to lose myself for a second to this amazing man in his suit.

She Looks Best When She’s In…

I don’t sleep much, most mornings I’m up at five or six after going to sleep at two or three. Seeing her lie in the bed, the sheet barely covering her naked ass and back. I like watching her sleep, maybe I like seeing her naked more. Clothes aren’t her favorite thing in the world. Most mornings she has nothing more than a robe that she barely closes.

Her skin is perfect, flawless. It’s not without effort. She moisturizes after every shower, she puts on this facial mask three times a week. I’ve never seen her forget to floss or get a pimple.

She has to know how turned on I get when I see her naked, when she’s getting ready to take a shower and has to let the water run for ten minutes before she steps in. I think my lips love her skin more then she loves her skin. As crazy as it sounds I feel like it’s sweet. When my tongue is tracing that skin I feel as though I can taste skittles or Hershey’s kisses.

The Divorced Woman and the Single Man… An Adult Conversation

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By: Sapphire and Demez

Her Words

“I saw the pieces of my marriage falling apart 2 years ago and as much as I’d like to think I could’ve prevented it; the truth of the matter is that it would’ve always ended this way.”

When I first started writing this I searched incessantly for definitions, synonyms, phrases or anecdotes but came to the conclusion that there seems to be a lack of vocabulary or feelings that can properly and intelligently describe that monumental “AHA” moment in your life when you realize that your world as you knew it, as you planned and hoped it would be is not only over but now you must find a way to save face, to repair mental, physical and intellectual self and learn to live and possibly love again.

His Words

Women are the ones that are supposed to worry about their biological clock. Women are the ones that are supposed to worry about how much weight their gaining or whether or not they’ll get a call back. That’s what you tell yourself when you’re a single man, when you hit 30 and every woman you date seems to fall by the wayside. When things start out so perfectly but even in those perfect moments you know something will go wrong. It scares you, it shakes you to your core. Is it me? Is it society? Do I not make enough money? Am I not attractive? You question things that you’ve never questioned before.

Her Words

Hindsight is a baldheaded blonde bitch I swear, but If I’m brutally honest with myself I knew the end was near, but no matter how much I mentally prepared myself, none of it could’ve braced me for the severity of the devastation that was done to my heart. I felt as if I betrayed myself by allowing my heart to dictate what path would be our source of happiness because the “signs” were all there but I accepted them in faith that our togetherness would outweigh our lack. I don’t love easily at all and I can count on my fingers how many guys I’ve been ecstatic about or developed any emotional connection with at all, so for me to even be in this position to experience this pivotal moment, crucified me to my core.

I could calculate the month, day, time and hour when I stopped being truly happy and it was eating away at me; I had the medication and an ulcer to prove it. I drank and submerged my feelings to the brink of impossibility and yet I could feel myself mentally unraveling. I hated the person I’d become; this yelling, arguing, uncontrolled maniac who couldn’t find a way to give two fucks because I’d given everything that was in me. I was empty and depleted beyond measure and no amount of anything seemed to fill the void inside me. It’s only in this tour of my fall from grace can I explain why being happy is my only choice.

His Words

The dates start to run together, you forget the names of women you kissed. Remember the exact moments you knew she wouldn’t call you back or you wouldn’t call her back. Sleep becomes a memory because how do you sleep when you’re always sleeping alone? Ambien and Tylenol PM become crutches. Hennessy and wine become bedmates. I spend more time in my mind than I do in reality. You log on Facebook and see men that were the biggest players in the world getting engaged and having babies. You see women that you used to talk to every morning and every night happy and in love. Happiness becomes something you just used to know.

I can remember the month, day, time and hour when I stopped being happy and started hoping. I can remember the month, day, time and hour when that hope turned to fear. When that fear turned to emptiness. I want to be happy, I want to be one of those people that are single and living the life but the void… The void becomes a black hole I feel like no one can understand. She said she loved him and not me, that’s what she told me. That killed a bit of me. She said that she could carry his child and not mines because she knew with him she’d always have security. Knowing that broke me. How do you find happiness when you feel broken?

Her Words

I won’t lie and say that I ached for a man, for his time and comfort but I damn sure want every minute and moment of it. Thumbing through my list of exes is never an option and the sheer idea of dating unnerves me especially with my severely bruised ego. I enjoy meeting new people but it seems as if most are so eager for their next orgasm that they don’t realize that most mind shattering moments come from having a real connection. That’s what I miss most. I miss smelling “his” scent all over me. I miss those wet sloppy kisses for no reason; having someone to be goofy with and knowing that they see me for all that I am and aspire to be.

I miss being held and touched in ways that only “he” knows because “he” discovered them and most of all I miss “his” weight. I relish the thought of “him” lying next to me and finally knowing what it means to be truly happy but until then I’ll accept truly satisfied for the moment. I do miss having a permanent “him” in my life but I take solace in knowing that my happy ever after hasn’t come to an end because one chapter of my life is over. If what they say is true, if you really do attract what’s inside of you, then I can’t wait to see what manifests because I’m happier than I‘ve been in a very, very long time and I realized that doesn’t mean that my world wasn’t affected; it means that I’m truly ready to start healing and taking care of me.

His Words

The smell of a woman’s skin when she’s first out the shower, that scent lives with me. It’s a mix of heat and sweetness and wetness that invades every sense I have. Watching her sit on the bed and rub lotion on her ankles, thighs, arms, and chest. Watching her inhale and exhale. I miss slowly pulling the towel away and rubbing my nose along her navel, her inner thighs. I miss the heat that comes from what’s between her legs. I’ve had sex, I’ve fucked women but I miss making love. There isn’t much that can compare to being inside of a woman you love and not caring if she gets pregnant. Not caring if she’s sick or tired or hurt because you know you’re going to be there regardless.

I miss sitting at my computer writing and having her come sit o my lap or hug me from behind. That look on her face when she bites her lip and sits on my weight. Getting her rhythm and moving like she’s a jockey trying to win the Kentucky Derby. There’s these moments where the memories feel so real and reality seems like it’s worlds away. In those moments I could have given up, I could have settled but instead all I wanted was more. All I want is more. My happiness will come, I will find the person that will help me find my happiness.

The Idea of Her…

FB-Ring.jpg Dear Single and Waiting,

I love women that want to be women. I get that when you’re alone you have to be tough. You have to do all the things around the house a man should be doing, you have to shield yourself from all the assholes and players and con artist that want nothing more than to sleep with you or get a couple dollars from you.

I’m not blind to what it takes to be a woman in our society these days, you can’t be weak, you can’t go to work and not carry yourself with a certain mindset or they will take advantage of you.

Understand this though, there is going to come a time when you have to put some of that toughness aside. When you have to smile and accept help when help is being offered. I’m not going to judge you for what you had to do when I wasn’t in your life. I understand that it will take some time for you to give up some of that control that has been with you since you were living on your own.

I’m not asking you to give up your identity or to be this submissive housewife that doesn’t ask questions and cooks every night. That works because I want you to or stays home because I want you to. That’s not what I’m asking, what I’m asking is that you trust me enough to let me be there for you.

You tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mines, you open up to me about your past and I’ll open up to you about my fears. I don’t want to replace your best friend or your mother because I’m neither of those. I want to be your man! I don’t want you to be my Queen and I’m no King, I want us to be soldiers together building a Kingdom.

This idea that I’m going to cater to you or you to me isn’t something I’d ask or do. We are going to cater and spoil each other. A lot of men say and write that they want this woman that’s their everything, not me. I want you to have a life, to go to concerts with your girls, happy hours, brunches, shopping. I’ll be at home waiting for the details, for the drunken foreplay. You don’t have to earn my trust it’s already here waiting, all I ask is that you not lose it. The same way I won’t lose yours.

Tell me you love me and I’ll fight any man that disrespects you, that hurts you, that scares you. Show me you love me and I’ll give my life for your ass! These are vows I’m making before I even know who you are.

Being single these past several years, all the dating, all the women, all the hits and misses has taught me that what I want more than anything is everything. I’m sure I’ve broken some hearts with my words and my actions but I don’t regret that. I’d rather hurt them by telling them they just aren’t for me then string them along because I’m lonely or horny. It’s been awhile since I’ve really written, call it a sabbatical, call it writers block, call it whatever you like. Just know I’m back now with a passion and vengeance that will get me you and on the New York Times Bestsellers list!

Sincerely Yours,

Demez F. White

You’re Single Until You’re Married…Though Single Doesn’t Mean Available

FB-Ring.jpgWhy does the minister say, “If there is anyone here who objects to this Union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace? It’s because once you’re married no man or woman can come in-between the bond that God has Christened. There are no such vows or bonds for your girlfriend or boyfriend or baby daddy or boo or whatever you want to call the person you’re spending time with. People have this nasty habit of giving husband/wife rights to people that quite frankly don’t deserve those rights. I’m a very upfront man when it comes to the women I desire. If I think she’s too good for him or isn’t happy why ignore that? Is my loyalty to a man I’ve never met or is my loyalty to my own happiness?

Don’t misunderstand me, if someone is in a healthy and happy relationship that’s progressing and growing and flourishing I’d be a real ***** ass guy to try and get in the middle of that. But if I can see she’s only in there because she’s settling or because she feels like she has to be loyal then it’s completely fair to speak with her and to see if the door is open for a courtship.

I’m not a bad guy, I’m just willing to write what most people think but are afraid to say out loud for fear of being labeled unflattering names. You don’t think there was a woman in President Obama’s life before Michelle? Or a woman in Boris Kojo’s life before Nicole? I’m not saying these women took these men from whatever woman but I am saying that there was a point when they were dating other women and these women separated themselves from the pack.

As a man that loves women the worst image in the world to me is a grown woman that’s been with the same guy for two or three or four years and he’s given her a child. He’s told her a million times that he’s going to marry her one day but there she sits waiting for him to grow up and do right by her. What I want to scream to that woman is, “If he was going to marry you he would have done it by now!!!” She’s loyal, faithful and wants nothing more than him not realizing she’s single. Not realizing that man is simply killing time until he meets a woman worth marrying. The biggest mistake men and women make is mistaking loyalty for ignorance. Being faithful to a man or woman that doesn’t want to do right by you doesn’t make that man or woman stupid. It makes you stupid. You’re single until there’s an “I do.” Now single doesn’t mean available but it’s still single none the less.