Nights Like This I Wish

20140803-095704.jpgNights like tonight I cut off my porch light and open my blinds and just watch the rain fall. The candle light illuminating the background, the sounds of mother nature brining me comfort in a way that even this writer can’t explain. On nights like tonight I wish…

Nights like this I wish that my mind wasn’t always so cluttered, I wish that I was a simpler man. That I didn’t think so much and overanalyze everything and every situation.

Nights like this I wish a warm body was enough, I wish that the feel and warmth of a thigh or the warm smell of a freshly bathed woman was enough. Nights like this I wish I could tune everything out and just lose myself in pleasure, lose myself in that violent yet sensual touch.

Nights like this I wish I was a better writer, I wish that my words touched more people than they do. Nights like this the doubt consumes me, consumes me in a way that creates a storm in my heart and soul that I can’t control.

Nights like this I just want to stand in the rain and scream that I’m good enough as a writer, as a man, as a lover, as a friend. I want to scream me to the world but who am I trying to convince? The world or myself…

~ Demez

Sobering Thoughts Before Dawn

Today makes 5 days of soberness. I’ve never been much of a soda drinker outside of putting it in scotch or bourbon so giving that up wasn’t hard.

My stomach doesn’t hurt as much, I’ve been sleeping better and I’ve probably drank more water in the past week then I probably drank the last 4 months. Even with saying all that I’m up right now withy the rain falling and the cold bearing down wishing I had a whiskey neat warming me. Does that make me weak?

Weak that I’m craving something that’s literally making me sick? That’s more of a depressant than it is a stimulant. I often wonder if it’s just in my genes, if it’s something that no matter how hard I try it’ll always be on my back.

I’m not an alcoholic, I’ve seen intervention but at times I do feel lost.

I’ve pushed people away so that I can get my mind right. Thus is something I needed to do alone. Something I have to do alone.

Pray for me.

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Rainy Sunday Thoughts

When I was out yesterday afternoon waiting on my friends to show up I checked Instagram. Mainly just to kill time. I saw a woman getting ready for a wedding and then I realized something. The woman whose wedding she was getting ready for was the woman who I thought I would marry. That’s the thing about social media, you can cut all ties to the person you were in love with but six degrees of separation is real.

At that moment our lives flashed before my eyes. At that moment I realized she was about to get married while I’m sitting in a bar excited about beer and football. Beer and football? She was the one that didn’t want to settle down, that wanted to run wild and now she’s about to walk to the alter and I’m here?

Life is ironic like that I suppose. You think you know what makes you happy but do you really? My writing is at a place where the words come so naturally. I can see the story in my head and tell it with such ease that I often smile while I’m at my laptop. Is that happiness though? Talent maybe, dedication, but happiness?

A woman once looked me in the eyes and told me that I made beautiful excuses. “They sound amazing Demez but the truth is they’re still excuses. You lost me because you weren’t willing to do what it would take to keep me. You don’t have anything published because you’re more willing to talk about being a great writer than actually writing and taking the chance people won’t like it. I love you but I’m not in love with you anymore. When you wake up and decide to grow up you’ll be an amazing man but I can’t wait for that. Goodbye.” I hated her in that moment because the truth hurts but it was necessary. It changed my life. She’s about to get married and I’ve been up all morning writing, trying to become that amazing man she believed I could become.

Sitting at my desk, watching the rain fall, I often wonder if I’m substituting making memories for writing. Will I have regrets because of the dates I cancelled or the parties I didn’t go to because I’d rather be sitting at this desk creating a story? I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know if I’ll ever know the answer to that. I just know how I feel when I’m finished telling one of these stories. How I feel when there’s a novel in my hands and I see that finished product. I believe at that moment it’s worth it.

~ Demez F. White
storms

When It Is Okay to Ask Her If She’s Okay

Insanity

Insanity

I’m not sure the picture that accompanies this blog has anything to do with the actual content but I just like the picture. You can’t go wrong with thighs and curly hair and kitchen counters. Now let me get to the issue at hand.

Last night as it was storming and lightening as if the end of days was near my lights went out. A tree fell in the backyard, the wind was rocking the entire house. Rain was falling as if it was knocking on my front door. As I’m lying on the couch with my cell phone at 19% and my laptop at 30% I’m wondering one thing, “Is she okay?” Are her lights out? Was she out with friends or working late and stuck somewhere? Is she at home and it’s barely raining over there? Picking up my phone, wanting to call, wanting to send a text, I realized something. That’s not my job anymore, she has a man now.

Not to be petty or to over think a situation but the truth is people throw the word friends around. You have sex with a woman, make love to a woman, pick her up from work when it’s storming, get her medicine when she’s sick. She lifts you up when the world is beating you down, she cooks for you and kisses you and encourages all the good things about you that you didn’t even know existed. That woman may have once been your friend but when it became more than that, you can’t go back. There’s no pretending you didn’t love her and she didn’t love you. You can’t put the word “friends” on that now.

I can only speak for myself and write for myself, everyone isn’t going to have the same dynamic. Some couples can be best friends, can go out double dates, can talk like they never shared the same bed for countless nights. I’m not one of those men. I don’t love in a way that allows me to pretend we never had what we had. If any woman I’ve dated meets a man and she’s happy then outside of the occasional catch up conversation or social media interaction I’m probably going to let her go.

Letting her go doesn’t mean I won’t still be available if she needs me. If she has a flat or needs someone to talk to but talking, texting, sharing intimate details. That would have to stop for both of our sakes. It wouldn’t be fair to another woman if I’m still trying to maintain this “friendship” with a woman I once loved. It’s not fair to her new man that she’s still needing my emotional support. It’s not mean spirited to tell someone “We can’t be friends because being around you will always feel like more.” That’s just something adults have to do.

Be careful in this rain today and get prepared for hurricane season.

~ Demez F. White

Thunderstorms, Trench Coats and High Heels

storms “Turn off the lights. Light a candle; because tonight I’m going to make love to you.” I was singing to her, rather badly but I loved to hear her laugh.

Last night was rough for her, grad school finals and taking on new responsibilities at work. As tired as I was, as she was, I stayed up with her. Sipping coffee, rubbing her shoulders, quizzing her on her notes. It was a long night but one I wouldn’t trade for the world.

“I’m going to need you to promise me you won’t show that sexy voice to anyone else. I don’t want to hurt someone for throwing panties at my man.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

Just like clockwork she called me as soon as she left work.

“Baby. Are you cooking tonight? I just want to come home and lay on the couch.” She still had her house. A house she paid bills at, that was twice as big as mines but whenever she spoke of lying on the couch at home she was talking about my couch.

Staying up all night with her, going straight to work and now I was going to have to make dinner too. A part of me knew she was spoiled but I didn’t have it in me to tell her no.

“I’ll take something out, how far are you?”

“I’m like 5 minutes away. I’m exiting 59 now. Oh babe! I see a cop, let me get off this phone before I pass this school zone! I’ll see you in a minute, love you! Bye.”

The call ended and I stood at the fridge looking inside wondering what the hell I was going to cook in this short notice. Settling on some chicken breast I threw them on defrost and started to grab what I needed when I heard a knock at the door.

I knew she had a key so when I looked out the window and saw her car in the driveway I figured she’d just forgotten to use it. When I opened the door my mouth dropped.

Standing there, a thin trench grey trench coat on, purple heels that added a good 4 inches to her height. Her hair bouncy and curly, holding a six pack in one hand, a pizza in the other. I didn’t offer to take the food out of her hands, didn’t move back so she could walk in. I just couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t stop feeling like this wasn’t real. “I love you,”she mouthed to me. Unbuttoning the top button on her coat, showing me the lace underneath. “I want to suck….” She mouthed. The thunder was loud behind her, the rain even louder. My porch shielding her from the worst of it she licked her lips and smiled that smile that said so much.

Maybe it was a thank you for all I’d done knowing she needed to study and was fighting for a promotion. It could have been her being extra because we hadn’t had sex in a week. Or maybe she knew the draft was tonight and nothing went better with football then beer and pizza. Either way I took the stuff out of her hands. Pulled her inside and set the DVR to record what I obviously wasn’t going to be watching tonight.

Gloomy Days

I feel as though the walls are closing in on me. The more the months, weeks, days go by I can feel myself becoming more and more withdrawn from everything I love, I care about. There are days I sit at my desk at work or at home and the words don’t flow like they use to, I scroll through my phone and there’s no one to call. I dial the numbers and have the conversations, we laugh and talk but when it’s over I feel empty, I feel like I didn’t say what I wanted to say.

Wondering does anyone know what this feels like? What it feels like to know a hundred people, to always have to be smart or charming or funny when all you want to do is ask someone to pray with you, to pray for you, to give you a hug because you don’t know if you’re okay.

There’s an inherent sadness in me that I can’t shake, that I can’t let go of. A part of me that feels like no matter what I do or say I’m destined to be a failure. It’s the weirdest thing to be this man that’s so outwardly confident and aggressive. This man that’s always talking to others about love and honor and respect. About doing better because you deserve better! How can I be that guy when I have these days where my lows are so unbelievably low?

Women don’t like weak men, how can I be weak?
My family expects me to be a leader, how can I do that if I have these thoughts?

I worry for myself, I worry that I’ll end up alone. That I’ll never have a wife or son. Someone told me that I’m incapable of truly loving anyone because something in me is broken. I see these couples that are happy and moving forward after months together and can I do that?

I’m 31 and there are days where I feel beyond unaccomplished. I’m not a bestseller, no one is in love with me. I don’t even have a friend I can call, I have to write this on my blog. I’m starting to hate my job, I used to love it, now it feels like a prison cell.

Would I be ungrateful to say I’m just not happy, to say I’m afraid of what this unhappiness is doing to my soul? To my ability to love? To grow? How can I feel this empty when so many have so much less than me?

Like my mood, like my spirit the weather has become gloomy,, cold and stormy. Pray for me because I believe I need your prayers more than any of us will ever know. May God have mercy on my soul.

Demez

4am Prayers and Phone Calls

His Eyes
Sitting in his desk chair, trying to get comfortable, trying to get some rest before the storm blew in was close to impossible when you were used to being in a bed. The skies clear, the streets empty as he drove in at 3am he wondered could this all be much to do about nothing.

Knowing she probably wouldn’t be going to work tomorrow with ice on the roads, disturbing her sleep was something he didn’t really want to do but hearing her voice felt like a matter of life or death. Something about it calmed him, made him feel better about the unease that was gripping him.

Putting on his coat, stepping outside he scrolled to her number.

Her Eyes

At first she thought she was dreaming. She felt the phone vibrating but didn’t know where she was exactly. Jumping up, looking around, realizing she’d fell asleep on the couch. Her gym clothes on the floor, the heat blasting, lying in one of his t-shirts she wiped her face and saw who was calling.

“Hey, everything okay?” She tried to make herself sound awake but it was a struggle fighting the yawns.

“I didn’t wake you up did I pretty girl?” At the sound of his voice she smiled. Lying back on the couch, pulling the blanket to her neck.

“Nah, I was up.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, they both knew she was lying but when certain people call, you just answer the phone.

“You okay babe?” It wasn’t like him to call this early even though he knew she would answer.

They’d made a lot of strides since that first date. It took awhile for her to trust again, it took just a little bit longer for him to put his pride to the side and open up.

“I need a favor.” She leaned up and looked around for her jeans and keys.

“Anything!” Her heart started to beat a little faster!

“Can you pray with me?”

His Eyes

Hearing her raspy voice, knowing on cold nights she slept with the heat blasting and little on he saw her body as soon as she said hello. He imagined her lying there, her pillow smelling of his cologne. Hair wrapped, body all over the bed. She was a snorer, especially when she was tired even though she’d never admit it.

He couldn’t shake the unease and more than her body, more than her voice, he needed her spirit.

“Can you pray with me?” He asked. They’d prayed together before, over dinner, before bed but he’d never just asked her randomly. There was something serious about prayer, something intimate about calling a woman and waking her out her sleep to humble yourselves before God. More than a first kiss, more than a first date, this mattered and scrolling threw his phone he knew only one woman mattered.

“Of course I will. Do you want me to pray for you; you want to do a silent prayer?” She laughed, it wasn’t a funny laugh but a nervous, cute laugh. It was what she did when she didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll pray, just close your eyes and roll with me.”

“Okay.”

Dear God,

I’m here this morning asking for your help. I trust that you wouldn’t put me in a situation I can’t handle but I’m nervous, maybe even a little scared. The last time I did this I almost flipped over a bridge. I know I come to you more when I need you then when I don’t and I’m going to do better but for right now just give me the strength and knowledge to trust my training. Allow me to make it home safely, allow all my friends and family and everyone traveling the roads to make it home safely. Most of all I’m asking that you bless Ashley. Protect her and give her calm during this time. Thank you for placing her in my life, if you don’t do any more than that you’ve blessed me for ten lifetimes. In your darling son Jesus’ name.

Amen
Her Eyes

“Amen.”

For a moment neither of them said anything, just for a moment.

“I pray for you. If something were to happen to you I wouldn’t be okay, you know that right? I’m not sure I’d ever be okay.” She didn’t know why the tears were in her eyes or why she was standing up looking out the window hoping for the storm to pass. She just knew whatever uneasy feeling he was feeling was now in her gut.

“Thank you for praying with me, for answering the phone, I know how much you love your sleep.” They both laughed, easing the tension.

“You know I’m always going to answer for you; just be careful.”

“Goodnight, love you A.”

“Love you too.”

Lying back on the couch, knowing she’d never fall back asleep until she knew he was safe. Grabbing a bottle of wine, some pop corn and the remote she decided to take advantage of the off day. Placing the TV on mute and getting on her knees, she wiped her eyes again still not knowing why the tears were falling.

God,

I know he prayed but you can never have enough prayer right? Please protect him. You know what’s in my heart and you know how I feel about him, he’s a good man and I love him. With you in his corner he’s capable of anything. Thanks.

Amen

Now she knew everything would be alright.

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