tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53665241016004784792024-02-20T03:33:07.112-05:00Ms. Ty SpeaksWriter's write. Plus i have a lot to say and no one to say it to.... So here we go!Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-38258928236399214142010-07-23T13:20:00.000-04:002010-07-23T13:20:56.648-04:00Connecting Our D.O.T.T.S - Part II - The Morning After<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Morning After</span></strong></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Kamryn</span></strong></div><br />
"I got a feeling! Ooh, Ooh! That tonight's going to be a good night! That tonight's going be a good, good night!" my phone alarm rang.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Noo.." I moaned. It couldn't possibly be morning already.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I got a feeling! Ooh, Ooh!" my alarm starts to sing again. I turn over, grab the phone and shut it off.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Ouch!" my head is ringing. The sun burns my eyes. I try and bury myself under my down comforter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Rough night?" I hear a familiar voice ask.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Rough would be an understatement," I mumbled.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Obviously," Sophia, my roommate and younger sister says as she crawls to the edge of my bed and waits for me to elaborate. I don't. Instead I try and recall the events of last night. Waiting on Ethan's steps, confessing, driving home in tears, opening the first bottle of wine, then the second, and watching my favorite scenes from Brown Sugar...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"So, you told him, huh?” she asked.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"He called you?" I yelled, shot up from under the covers, forgetting the pain in my head from my wine hangover then immediately reminded and so quickly laid back down.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"No, he didn't. Calm down. The bottles of wine, cookie dough package and Brown Sugar menu screen, say a lot love."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Crap! It was pathetic. My younger sister caught me being pathetic. She's caught me being or doing much, but pathetic was something that I hoped would always remain my secret. "Yeah, I told him," I sighed. My eyes started to tear up. "It was so embarrassing, Soph. Like I just yelled at him that I loved him and rambled on and on and all he could muster up to say was something about taking a step back."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You think that may be the best thing right now."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"It may be the best thing, but it could also be the worse."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Why would it be the worst thing? Because you love him and he doesn't love you in the same way?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Because my love could have just cost me my best friend," I said.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
There was a pause; a marinating of thoughts. It’s funny how loud silence can be; because Soph couldn't come up with a response confirmed my truth. No matter how Ethan and I tried to recover from this, it would always be different between us. My words left stains that neither of us could remove. We could cover up, overlook, and pretend they aren't there, but under the surface we would always be well aware of their existence.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"So what are you going to do now? Drink your life away," she said with a smile. She was great at that, moving on. Even after Daddy died, she just picked up and moved on like it didn't faze her. I admired her strength to hold it together, even if it was her weakness.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Coffee," I sighed. "Right now, I need lots and lots of coffee." I started to pull myself out of the bed. There was a slight spin to the room. Soph got up with me, put her arm through mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Its going to be okay. I promise. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day it will be okay. You've been through worse."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I know. Just sucks, that's all," I said as I pulled away from her and headed to my bathroom.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'll make your coffee,."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Ok. Thanks," I said solemnly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Kamryn, look at it this way: his life, his choice, his loss," she shrugged her shoulders and walked out the door.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Or mine," I thought.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Sophia</span></strong></div><br />
<br />
<br />
They day after my 8th birthday my father told me that I was his favorite and I believed him. He was in his office at his desk grading papers when I walked in and told him I didn't want to be his princess anymore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Why not?" he asked as he removed his glasses and set them down and looked at me perplexed. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Because princesses don't play sports and I want to play for the WNBA!" I said definitively. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
He laughed. His laugh was deep and billowy. It always seemed that it came from some secret cave buried within him. He got up from his desk and walked over to me and kneeled so he would be at eyelevel. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Soph, you can still play basketball and be my little princess. That's what makes you a special princess.<br />
<br />
You're not all prissy like the others."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You mean like Kamryn. She's prissy."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You're sister isn’t prissy. She's just not into the same things you are."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"She's spoiled. You and mommy spoil her because she likes to read and does all good in school and stuff."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
He got up took my hand and walked me over to the leather sofa in his office, sat down and put me on his lap. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Both of my daughters are very special and I love you both very much. But you want to know a secret?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I nodded.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You're my favorite Sophia."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Nuh uh. You're lying! You get all happy when Kamryn brings home good grades. Plus Kamryn looks and acts just like you! Everybody says so!"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"And you know who you remind me of? The first woman I ever loved, your mother; who we know is a sassy, wily spitfire just like you."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I smiled. "So really daddy, I'm your favorite?" I asked again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"My favorite Sophia in the whole world," he said as he kissed me on the forehead. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It wasn't until when he died that I realized that he played on his words. It’s funny how this story came to me as I made Kam's coffee this morning. The morning after Ethan broke her heart, though she didn't know Ethan and I broke her heart a long time ago. I wonder if I would still be Daddy's princess if he knew that I broke his favorite Kamryn's heart. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I loved my sister. We typically got along pretty well and when we were angry or upset with each other we knew each other well enough on how to deal with it. We were so different, her and I. She was easy to talk to. Dainty. Classy. She expressed herself openly and sometimes dramatically. I was abrasive. Rough. A guy's girl. I held everything within. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Coffee ready?" Kamryn asked interrupting my thoughts. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Almost. Want to go shopping today? A new pair a shoes is the best cure for a broken heart!" I said with a smile. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Shouldn't you be studying or something?" she asked with her ever so obvious judgmental eyes. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"It's a special occasion," I said rolling my eyes. Here I was trying to be nice and her asking me about studying was her way of pointing out my failures. I hated school mostly because I didn't see the point. I guess I can understand her frustrations. I mean I am a 6th year undergrad at the University of MD. I've changed my major 3 times. I just didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I don't think I can pinpoint a career out of all the things that I love. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Seriously Soph? You've got to decide on something." she said filling the awkward silence; reading my thoughts. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I know Kam. But we aren't talking about me. We're talking about you. So what are we going to do today to cheer you up?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"We aren't doing anything. You are going to do homework or study or write a paper one of those things I'm sure you should be doing. And I am going to work on my piece for Essence. I have a deadline." she grabbed her cup of coffee and started to walk away. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"You can't run from this, Kam and hide in your work. You have to deal with it."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"And you can't run from growing up. You have to deal with it," she said as she left the room.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
What was the point? Why did it all matter? Especially when you couldn't be with the one you loved. I got out my phone and texted Ethan, playing dumb. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"She told you how she felt didn't she?" I texted him. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Twenty minutes later he responded, "Yeah."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I laughed. Only because he knew I wanted more than just a yes or no, but he wasn't going to give it to me. He liked it when you worked for it; whatever "it" may be. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Did you tell her about us?" I texted back, pretty confident of the answer, but just asking to make him think about the us we used to be. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I told you I wouldn't," he responded. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Thank you." I responded. Then his next text stabbed me. "How is she doing?" he asked. When I wanted him to think of me he was thinking of her. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"How do you think?" I replied.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
And as if he knew he messed up, he replied, "How are you doing?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"How do you think?" I replied again. Part of my response was out of spite, the other part out of truth. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Guilt was like gangrene. It spread and infected you quickly. But how can you amputate your heart? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Noah</span></strong></div><br />
<br />
<br />
The sun scorched my back. "Come on Noah, one more mile to go," I coached myself. It was unusually warm for November. The leaves that paved the trail crunched underneath my feet. "I swear this mix could sink the sun!" Jack's Mannequin screamed from my IPod into my headphones. "Bzzz!" my phone vibrated in my pocket. "Hoooonnnkk," horns blared in the street aside me and the mix of sirens and jack hammers whispered in the distance. The soundtrack to my morning jog. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My trail finally navigated me back into my off campus housing subdivision. I went through the backdoor of the three bedroom townhouse I shared with two other guys who arranged their course loads around their party schedules. I steered through the pizza boxes, beer bottles, textbooks; sweaty socks and Wii remotes upstairs to the master bedroom opened the door and entered serenity. My room was a stark contrast from the rest of the house. Clean, neat and orderly. I didn't have time to party like I wanted to. Medical school was kicking my butt. I crashed on my bed after taking my phone out of my pocket. Twelve missed alerts. Seriously? I bet at least six were from my mother. I hit the menu button. Surprise, surprise. Only two were from her. The other four were from the other two most important women in my life. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Kam's first text said, "Call me ASAP!" Followed by her more aggressive text, “Where the heck are you? Why aren’t you answering me! I need you…NOW!" Kamryn was so passionate. She either loved it or hated it. Everything was serious even when it wasn't. I'm sure that this was another moment in which her reacting preceded her thinking instead of the other way around. I checked the time of the last text, two hours ago... she's fine by now, I'm sure. However as I convinced myself of that fact, my trust waivered when I read the next two alerts which were from Sophia. "Hey, Kam told Ethan. She's totally bummed. We should take her for pancakes or something." The next one read, "Did your phone get cut off or are you still asleep? Don't you have class?" I wanted to reply, "Don't you?" But I decided against my better judgment, put the phone on the nightstand and proceeded to undress to hop into the shower. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
So Kamryn finally told Ethan. I shook my head. It's about dag on time. I was so over hearing them both build him up to this elevated state as if he could do no wrong and then complain to me every time he hurt their feelings, made them cry, pout, curse. I contemplated, calling Ethan and asking him the less dramatic, simplified male version of what went down before I talked to either one of the Williams sisters. But Ethan and I had grown apart over the last couple of years. It had really started to annoy me the way Kamryn would throw herself at him and he would dismiss her like a fly. He knew that Kam loved him, he allowed her to give of herself and he wouldn't reciprocate and that made me like him less. Kam was like my big sister and I totally felt he disrespected her, but how do you tell someone whom they should or shouldn’t love?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I got dressed in my scrubs and decided to respond to Sophia first. If Kamryn would ever find out she would throw the whole "You-two-love-each-other-just-be-together" in my face. "Is she okay?" I texted. You’ve got to love modern technology. The era in which our most intimate moments and thoughts can be transmitted to millions in just a mere click of a "SEND" button. Technology protects us from facing the people we love or the people we hurt. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"No, not at all. She OD'd on wine, cookie dough and Brown Sugar last night," she responded.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Brown Sugar? Lol. Like packets of it?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"No, like the movie. Lol."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"A black movie?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Yes, Noah. Sanaa Lathan, Taye Diggs. The one Kam's pressed for...N e ways it doesn't matter. What are we going to do about it?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"What are we supposed to do? She'll get through this she always does."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I guess. But do you think this will mess up everything? Like all of our friendships and stuff? Like I don't want to have to choose."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Choose? I mean did she really have a choice? Kamryn was her sister. Ethan was just Ethan. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'm sure it will be fine,” I decided to respond.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Ok. I hope you're right."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Of course I am. I mean it wasn't like we all hung out like we used to anyways. Kam, Soph and I were all within an hour of each other. Ethan lived further out near the slopes; a good two hours from the three of us and Zuri lived down south. We grew up. We grew apart. Every now and then we would cross paths, connect and intersect at the important events of our lives, but as time passed so did the necessity to be forever linked. I cared about them all, loved Kam and Soph with all my heart, but it was time I learned who I was outside of them. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Kamryn was next. She deserved a call. I couldn't disrespect her moment with a text.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey babe," she answered solemnly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Hey what's going on?" I said cheerfully and pretending to be naive. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"I’m so stupid! Why I thought he could ever love me, I don’t know!" she cried between sniffles. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Kam-Kam, what's wrong? What happened?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Are you busy? Can we get pancakes?"<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I'll be at the IHOP in fifteen."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Thanks babe, I’ll see you then."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
On my drive over I considered what I would say and how I would respond to her broken heart. I didn't have a clue. I never had the right words, just a listening hear. Hopefully that was all she needed. I wasn't the best to give advice. I mean, I was hiding my own feelings for Sophia. Well not really hiding them, I am sure they were painfully obvious, but I ignored them because the ramifications of that could mean the death of an amazing friendship. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"How did we all get here?" I said to myself as I got out of my car and headed into the restaurant. It was so much simpler when we were younger. Or maybe it was that the weight of our lives at that time was lighter. We could carry it with grace, honor, and pride. Now somehow we've managed to make a tangled web of complications with the most delicate of relationships. Being in love with your best friend is typically the ideal circumstance. But that ideal quickly becomes a nightmare when your best friend decided not to love you back. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I got a table and ordered coffee for the both of us. Kamryn walked in and her appearance screamed, "I'm-trying-to-cover-a-broken-heart." Her hair was pulled up in a messy pony tail. No make-up, not even lip gloss. Sweats, Ugg boots and that god awful Dr. Seuss striped sweater. I rose from my seat and wrapped her in my arms and let her cry her pain onto my chest. <br />
<br />
<br />
"It will be okay," I lied to her. <br />
<br />
<br />
She just nodded but proceeded to cry harder; evidence to me that she knew I wasn’t telling her the truth. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Kamryn</span></strong></div><br />
I fell in love with Ethan the night he held my hair back as I puked in his toilet. If I had to pinpoint it to a night, that would be it. It was October. I was home from Virginia Tech for the high school homecoming weekend to watch Noah play in the football game. He was the skilled quarterback that led the team to their best season ever that year. They won the game and of course the 5 of us had to celebrate in style. <br />
<br />
“Speech! Speech! Speech!” the crowd of at least twenty screamed at Noah. We were crammed in Ethan’s studio apartment above his mother’s garage. There was minimal furniture, so people were sprawled on the floor, on his bed and on the countertops. <br />
<br />
Noah hopped up on the bed, nearly stumbled off, spilling some of his rum and coke and yelled, “King Kong ain’t got nothing on me!” <br />
<br />
The crowd cheered and started wailing “We are the champions…” and I made my way through them to the kitchen where Ethan was mixing drinks.<br />
<br />
“Fill her up,” I said handing him my red Solo cup. <br />
<br />
“You sure you need anymore?” he asked as he poured. <br />
<br />
“Hell yeah! I crammed to finish my report for Econ, my essay for US History and my analysis of a serial killer for sociology just to be here to party with you fine folks this weekend! So fill her up!”<br />
<br />
He laughed, shook his head and added cranberry juice to my vodka. “You asked for it!”<br />
<br />
“Thank you very much bartender. I’ll make sure to leave you a nice tip,” I said as I turned away from him to and head back towards the crowd. <br />
<br />
‘”That view is a nice enough tip for me!” he smirked. <br />
<br />
Turning towards him and grinning for ear to ear, I said, “Well if you want a guided tour, be sure to let me know and I’m sure that can be arranged.” <br />
<br />
“I’ll be sure to ask Lauren, if she’s okay with that.”<br />
<br />
“Hey she can come too. I don’t discriminate!” I flirted.<br />
<br />
“I think I should confiscate you’re drink, now.” he laughed.<br />
<br />
“You started it.” <br />
<br />
“And you always manage to finish it.”<br />
<br />
“Gotta love me!”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me and blessed me with a hug. “I’ve missed having you around, Kam. It’s not nearly as entertaining without you.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I’m sure your lovely girlfriend entertains you just enough,” I said. And as if on cue, Lauren walks over.<br />
<br />
“How’s Virginia Tech?” she asked, obviously annoyed by Ethan and I’s embrace. <br />
<br />
I pulled away from him and answered her, “Tech is great! How’s the squad?”<br />
<br />
“Just perfect!” she answered. <br />
<br />
“That’s…perfect! Ethan, I’ll talk to you later,” I said rolling my eyes and leaving him and his jealous girlfriend behind. <br />
<br />
Ethan had been dating Lauren, at that time for about a year now and I was the one that introduced them. Lauren was on my cheerleading squad and I genuinely adored her. She was actually smart, athletic and talented. Tall, Hispanic, curvy and perfect she was infatuated with the fact that I knew and was friends with the star shooting guard on the varsity basketball team. Ethan didn’t generally date girls, he played them like chess pieces; and so because she appeared so fragile, I was reluctant about introducing them to each other. But Lauren persisted, and I finally conceded. <br />
<br />
Ethan must have seen what I saw, because he took a liking to her and they dated ever since. She changed though, after they started dating. She didn’t appear so adorable and innocent. Well, either she changed, or I did. <br />
<br />
The next thing I actually remember from that night was my head in a toilet, Ethan beside me sitting on the ledge of the tub, holding my hair back as everything I consumed that night released itself from my body. Soph and Noah were in the background laughing hysterically and taking pictures. <br />
<br />
As I was coming through, Ethan handed me bottled water, looked me dead in my eyes and asked me, “What are you hiding from Kam? You hit it pretty hard tonight. That’s not like you. You okay? School okay?”<br />
<br />
His bloodshot eyes were painted with concern. He smoothed the bangs from my eyes and transferred them behind my ear. He held my chin, parted my lips with his thumb and gently guided the water down my mouth. Our eyes never left each other’s. I took a long drink; he removed the water bottle from in front of me and wiped the solo tear that was falling from my cheek, “You’re so pretty. You’re so smart. You shouldn’t have to run from anything,” he said.<br />
<br />
I closed my eyes as my stomach began to flutter and cramp, open them up, turn away from him and whispered, “Except you,” as I returned to hurling away my pain down the toilet. <br />
<br />
I fell in love with Ethan that night. At that moment he made me feel what I craved for every day since my daddy died; safe. <br />
<br />
I am sitting at my Netbook, returned from my semi-comforting breakfast with Noah glancing at pictures of my past. Photographs that captured innocence and happiness in its purest form. Memories are a blessing and a curse. They reminded you of how things were, but they also forced you to remember how they weren’t.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-8678950990563719452010-05-12T09:19:00.000-04:002010-05-12T09:19:50.848-04:00To Daddy, From Your Baby Girl<a href="http://hubpages.com/hub/To-Daddy-From-Your-Baby-Girl">To Daddy, From Your Baby Girl</a>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-43456925258077414142010-05-10T08:29:00.000-04:002010-05-10T08:29:45.655-04:00The Leaves Change In Autumn<a href="http://hubpages.com/hub/The-Leaves-Change-In-Autumn">The Leaves Change In Autumn</a>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-13759480757388221932010-04-28T14:16:00.000-04:002010-04-28T14:16:12.946-04:00Connecting Our D.O.T.T.S - A Novel<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Part I - The Confession</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Kamryn</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I waited outside for him. It was a cool night. Crisp. The crickets chirped. The leaves rustled. Children were being tucked in. Husbands were kissing their wives on their foreheads. Grandmothers were sighing over the nightly news. Teenage girls were texting their boyfriends goodnight. And here I sat. Outside. In the crisp air waiting for him to come home. Tonight, I felt just a little bit brave.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">His SUV pulled up in the driveway. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered. As he got out the car and walked to the porch, I stood up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hey," I barely whispered. My hands were sweating and shoved in the pockets of my jeans. He stood there. All 6 feet of him. Solid. Masculine. Bold.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What are you doing here?" he asked confused. "It's late. Why are you sitting out here by yourself?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I know, right. It's crazy. I could probably be attacked or something," I said nervously.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What are you doing here?" he asked again. The way he spoke over the rustle of the leaves made it sound musical.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I had to talk to you. I had to explain what's been going on with me lately."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Right, now? Can't this wait? It's been a long day, I'm tired. You should go home." He starts to put his key in the door. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Night Kamryn."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Ethan, I love you!" I exhaled. I took a step back from him, startled by my own words. They pierced the air. All of a sudden silence blanketed the night. As desperately as I needed to speak the words, I needed even more desperately to take them back. But I couldn't. Once the words left my lips I didn't own them anymore. He owned them now. I wondered what he would do with my most precious possession.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">After what seemed like hours, but I am sure were only seconds, he began to speak. "Why do I get the feeling you don't mean in a we're best buds kinda way?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Look, I know it’s crazy. It’s absurd. It makes no sense. I've told you over and over again in word and in deed how impossible the very idea of us being together would be, but it just snuck up on me. Bit me in the butt. I did exactly what I didn't want to do. I caught feelings. And I hate it. I don't want it to be this way, but it is what it is..." I trailed off.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"But you've been treating me like crap lately. It's like you are in permanent PMS mode or something. Nagging about this and about that... Nothing I do is ever good enough for you," he complained.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I know. I just said it didn't make any sense. I've been building this wall all my life. I tell you you're not worthy. But it’s just a misdirect; I’m turning the attention on you when it’s really me. I'm not worthy. Or at least I don't feel worthy. I've been lying to you and to myself. I guess in trying to convince you that you're just incapable of any relationship then hopefully my desire for one with you will disappear."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You're rambling," he sighed. "You always ramble when you're nervous," he put his fingers to the crown of his nose and started to massage the space in between his eyes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You know me too well," I say sheepishly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He answers me back with the sternest of looks. "Obviously, not well enough."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Maybe I should have been an actor or something? You know me, always into the dramatics," I joke. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You should stay away from drama."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I try," I said softly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Obviously, not hard enough." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">There was this long pause that followed his words. He stared at the paint chipping off the floorboards of the porch. I stared into the night sky fighting back tears. My heart ached for him. It ached in ways I have never felt before. Of course I wanted more from him. I wanted him to hold me. To tell me he loved me too. To occupy the lonely space in my heart. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Look, maybe we just need to take a step back and take a break from one another. Really try to figure out what we want from this relationship," he said breaking the silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I already know what I want," I mumbled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What?" he asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Look, Ethan, its not like I told you I loved you hoping you felt the same way or even wanting you to say it back," I lied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yes you did."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I hate him. "I just thought you should know, Ethan. Thought maybe it would make you understand my behavior. You know I think it's just time for me to go." I started to walk quickly past him but really wanting to run away from the rejection.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"This changes everything, you know that, right?" his question chased me down the driveway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I turned around to face him. The breeze dried the tears from my face. I look at him. He doesn't seem as tall as before. His eyes look tired. He's slouched at the shoulders; his skin oily from the stress of the day. His lips a perfect pink, parted, ready to speak.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Actually, Ethan, it changes nothing at all," I say and turn back around and walk away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Ethan </strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I watched as Kamryn got into her car and drove her and our friendship away. Her scent lingered in the night air. She always smelled like a mix of coffee and spring time. I hated the way the bangs of her hair hid her eyes or how she was always catching strands in her mouth when she talked. She was so petite, I'd swear when it was windy she would blow away. And that dimple, that signature dimple. It was the cave in her cheek that held all the secret things that made her smile. And apparently, I am one of them. Or at least... I was. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I walked into my apartment. Tired from the day and drained from the conversation. I hated it when girls cried. I hated making them cry, but they always cried. Well Kamryn always cried. She's emotional. Always has been. Let her tell it, however, she was passionate. Nah, I'd call it emotional. I smiled. We got into that debate a million times. I would always win, because the debate would end in Kamryn throwing a hissy fit. "See," I'd say, "case and point: Emotional." I shook my head and opened my refrigerator and then shook my head as I closed it. Wish I hadn't pissed off Kam, then maybe I'd be eating right now. All I had to do was text her and tell her I was hungry and she'd drive an hour out of her way and prepare some elaborate meal. She loved to cook, so technically I was doing her the favor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Her confession wasn't much of a confession to me as I believe it was to herself. I could look in her eyes and know that she loved me. Anyone could. Everyone did. I just pretended not to see it. Which was pretty much how I delt with everything that involved change, vulnerability, and emotion. If I didn't see fit to acknowledge it, then it must not exist. That philosophy has gotten me far, I think. It just frustrates the heck out of everyone else.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got out my guitar; a Les Paul Gibson. A gift from Kamryn. I'm not a jerk. I love her. I do. Always have. I just can't love her the way she needs to be. The way she deserves to be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I remember the first time I met Kamryn. She was moving in next door with her mom and Sophia. I was 16 at the time. Noah, who lived down the block from us wished for hot white chicks to move in. Zuri on the other hand didn't want any more white families coming in and taking over the neighborhood. I didn't care either way. In the end though, it seemed we all ended up being pleased with what we got. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When the moving truck pulled in and the movers started to unload, my mom made Zuri and I accompany her to welcome them to the neighborhood. After the initial introductions, Zuri and I offered to help with the moving. Southern hospitality. I could tell they weren't used to it. City girls. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I can handle it," Sophia said when I reached out for the box she was holding. "</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ok then," I said as I lifted my hands in defeat. I looked over at Zuri who rolled her eyes and followed her into the house. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I could use help with this one," Kamryn said pointing to a box. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Sure thing," I said. I went to lift it speedily and nearly stumbled over, surprised by its weight. "Shh.." I stopped myself, "what the heck is in this box?" I asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"It’s just my books," she said softly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Guess you read a lot,” I said as I got a better grip and walked into the house. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, but most of them were my fathers. He left them to me. He was a professor. But he umm died a few months ago..." she trailed off. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Oh, sorry to hear that," I said uncomfortable with her truth. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Thanks. It's the room to the left."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We walked into her room, which was a pretty amazing room for a teenager. Windows that stretched from floor to ceiling lined the right side of the room and were accompanied by a window seat. The opposite wall was lined with espresso colored book shelves from floor to ceiling. I walked in the direction of the shelves, which had the beginnings of decor: photos of Kam, her sister and others. She's spoiled and a cheerleader. Great.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"So you're a cheerleader? Middle school out here doesn't have sports," I said ignorantly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Really? Well it’s a good thing we're both in high school," she retorted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"My bad, you looked kinda young."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I get that all the time. I'm 17. Sophia is 15."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"And you're the oldest? Never would have guessed that."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, get that all the time too."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Well I'm on the varsity basketball team," I boasted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You a senior too?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nah, a sophomore."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"My bad, you look kinda old," she said with a smile and at that moment I was formerly introduced to that dimple. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I get that a lot," I smiled back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Zuri and I ended up spending that entire day with the Williams sisters. I called Noah over and he helped us out with the moving. We got them all moved in and then Mom invited them over and Dad cooked out on the grill. I watched the girls carefully. They were both very pretty but polar opposites from each other. Sophia was tall, her skin dark, but complexion smooth and gorgeous. She had a cute round face and a button nose. She was built like an athlete. She was forceful, loud, smart-mouthed, daring, and independent. She didn't look or act like a girl who had just experienced loss. Kam was petite. Small stature. Fit, but curvy in all the right places. Mocha-colored. Reserved. Well-poised. Observant. Cautious. Kam wore the worry in her heart on her face. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Time passed and it turned out to be always the 5 of us. It's like we were each random dots, connected by the lines of chance to make a unique family. Through high school sports, homecoming dances, stealing liquor out of our parent’s liquor cabinets and getting trashed. Through boyfriends and girlfriends, college applications, snowboarding trips, college parties, through my parent's divorce, Noah's mom's sickness, Kam's valedictorian speech, Noah, Soph and my senior prank... I could fill countless of pages filled with priceless memories. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It always admired the fact that as a group we were all close, but individually we held our own as well. Zuri and I became closer siblings as we got older. Noah and I were inseparable up into recently, once he got serious about school. I always clicked the most with Soph. We were a lot alike. I could hang with Soph for hours doing absolutely nothing. Soph could hold her own if I picked a fight, verbally or otherwise. I could tell crude jokes around her without worrying she'd be offended. She was one of the guys, but as we got older I began to notice how much of a girl she was. I reserved it in the back of my mind, visited it once, made promises never to visit it again. Soph and I had our secrets. Secrets Noah or Kam or Zuri didn't know about. Secrets that were the reason Kam cried tonight, though she would never know it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Kam was the mother of us all. Her soul was way older than she was. She was like a security blanket. I knew I could always count on her. I allowed myself to tell her things I wouldn't tell anyone else. I was able to ask her questions about girls, talk to her about music, let her know my fears of losing or failing, share with her my dreams of being a professional snowboarder. But that comfort was accompanied by intimidation. With Kam it always had to mean something, she was always trying to read in between the lines. She knew what I needed way before I even knew I needed it. She nurtured and catered. I knew Kam could see me for who I really was and that terrified me. Naturally, I was physically attracted to Kam as well. But with Kam it was overwhelming. With Soph it was easy... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Sophia</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">12:23 AM. That's what time my cell phone said when I heard the slam of the front door, the sound of sniffles and feet hitting the foyer steps. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Kam?" I thought to myself, but my sleep quickly overtook me and I shrugged it off as just a dream. I rolled over and reentered into my slumber. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Noah</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">12:23 AM. That's what time the clock at the nurses’ station said as I was told to assist a patient to the lab for blood work. My patient was an elderly, cranky and smelly man complaining of diarrhea. Did I really want this as my life? Who was it that told me I would make a good doctor because I have a heart and I am great with people? Oh, yeah. That's right. It was Kamryn. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I bet she's sound asleep right now. Well then again, she's probably up either typing away her next piece for Essence giving people relationship advice or she was up hiding behind her want for a relationship with Ethan and texting him about guitars or snowboarding. Both topics she knows very little about but as long as it holds Ethan's interest she pretended to be intrigued. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Crap!" the elderly man in the wheelchair mumbled as my nose sensed why he was frustrated. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Crap!" I said as I realized his bowels were a lot looser than I wanted them to be. "Let's get you cleaned up," I comforted. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Thanks a lot Kam," I thought. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>Zuri</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hello?" I said to the phone that woke me up out of my sleep.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hey, you sleep?" I hated when people asked me this as if they couldn't tell that all the estrogen left my voice leaving me to sound more like Zach than Zuri.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What's up, Ethan?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nothing. It's not that serious. Go back to sleep."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I'm up now, so you might as well tell me why you are calling me at," I glanced over at my digital alarm clock, "12:23 AM."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Kam told me she loved me tonight; like in love with me."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"And what did you say to her?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">“I told her we should take a break from each other. Evaluate our relationship."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"And was that the truth?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I mean, I don't need to evaluate anything, but it sounded good."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I sighed, "Ethan, do you think even in the least bit that you led her on?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"She's always known that we were just friends, Zuri. We've talked about that being the only option for us."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Don't tell me what your mouth said, Ethan. Tell me what your actions said."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">There was this long pause. I hadn't seen Ethan or the girls in months, since I moved down south to North Carolina, but I didn't have to be around to know how Ethan treated those girls. Whenever I talked to him he had just been with one or the other. I always wondered growing up which one he would end up with. I knew Ethan well enough to know Soph was more his type, but I knew Kamryn would love him with all she had. But what good would her loving him do if he didn't love her back? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"How are you and Eric?" he asked; an obvious diverting of the question. Typical of him though, to answer would mean that he would have to admit that he was partially at fault. A task we both knew he was incapable of. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"We're doing well. We had dinner with Mom, Nana and Pop tonight. They all liked him. He has a game away this weekend. When you coming to visit so you can meet him?" I asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I don't know. Soon, I guess. I'm happy for you Zuri. He seems like a nice guy. You deserve it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You deserve to be happy too, Ethan."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I am happy."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Ok," it was too late to fight him. "So what are you going to do about you and Kam, now?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nothing. What am I supposed to do?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Was he really this oblivious? "You do still want to be her friend, right? I mean you guys are close."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I guess. I'm just going to go on treating her as normal. Just wait for her to make the next move."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You treating her as "normal" is what got you in this mess in the first place."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Alright, well goodnight. I'm too tired to be crucified."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Good. I'm going back to bed. Just one question, though?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What's that?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Kam is pretty, successful, she's probably one of if not your best friend. We know she would love you and treat you right. What's preventing you from loving her back?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Zuri, there's something I have to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago..."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"If you come at me with some 'I'm gay' joke I am going to hang up!" I interrupted him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nah, this isn't a joke," he said seriously. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I sat up in my bed. I wanted to make sure I was awake and alert for this one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-80873456919915216572010-04-27T11:59:00.000-04:002010-04-27T11:59:36.146-04:00Refuse<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My refusal is refuse </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because it is not truth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And every day I lie</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To myself </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And to you </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I tell you “I refuse!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To give in…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And of giving of myself</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">With no receipt of self given</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I have given into</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My generous heart</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The part that compels compassion</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And overrides the refusal</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My refusal is refuse </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because it is not truth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And every day I lie</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To myself</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And to you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I tell you “I refuse!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To compare myself to “her”…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Whoever “she” may be</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because “she” is doing this</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And looks like that</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And I just might not add up</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To the ideal that “they” have set</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But here I go with every day I wake</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Look into the mirror disapprovingly </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Of what looks back</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And what I have refused to do</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Is exactly what I subconsciously choose to do</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And so my refusal is refuse</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And every day I lie to me</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And to you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I tell you, “I refuse!”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To sacrifice…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">But what day goes by </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I don’t say bye</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To what I want or where I want to be</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Just so that he</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">May be all he dreams to be</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And have all his heart can want</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So sacrificing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Has become a way of living</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And once again my refusal ends is defeat</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So my refusal is refuse?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Or is it I must choose </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To refuse my refusal </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To be a woman</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">With insecurities</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To be a friend</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Who gives from the heart</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To be a mother</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Who sacrifices a lot</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Because me without the identity </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Of these three</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Is indeed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Refuse</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-3082431517593837382010-04-16T19:35:00.001-04:002010-04-16T23:27:36.800-04:00The Morning After - Noah Speaks<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The sun scorched my back. "Come on Noah, one more mile to go," I coached myself. It was unusually warm for November. The leaves that paved the trail crunched underneath my feet. "I swear this mix could sink the sun!" Jack's Mannequin screamed from my IPod into my headphones. "Buzz!" my phone vibrated in my pocket. "Beep," horns blared in the street aside me. The soundtrack to my morning jog.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My trail finally navigated me back into my off campus housing subdivision. I went through the backdoor of the three bedroom townhouse I shared with two other guys who arranged their course loads around their party schedules. I steered through the pizza boxes, beer bottles, textbooks, sweaty socks and Wii remotes upstairs to the master bedroom opened the door and entered serenity. My room was a stark contrast from the rest of the house. Clean. Neat. Orderly. I didn't have time to party like I wanted to. Medical school was kicking my butt. I crashed on my bed after taking my phone out of my pocket. Twelve missed alerts. Seriously? I bet at least six were from my mother. I hit the menu button. Surprise, surprise. Only two were from her. The other four were from the other two most important women in my life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Kam's first text said, "Call me ASAP!" Followed by her more aggressive text, “Where the heck are you?" Kamryn was so passionate. She either loved it or hated it. Everything was serious even when it wasn't. I'm sure that this was another moment in which Kamryn was reacting then thinking instead of thinking and then reacting. I checked the time of the last text, two hours ago... she's fine by now, I'm sure. However as I convinced myself of that fact, my trust waivered when I read the next two alerts which were from Sophia that slightly mimicked Kamryn's. "Hey, Kam told Ethan. She's totally bummed. We should take her for pancakes or something." The next one read, "Did your phone get cut off or are you still asleep? Don't you have class?" I wanted to reply, "Don't you?" But I decided against my better judgment, put the phone on the nightstand and proceeded to undress to hop into the shower. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So Kamryn finally told Ethan. I shook my head. It's about dag on time. I was so over hearing how they would build him up to this elevated state as if he could do no wrong and then complain to me every time he hurt their feelings, made them cry, pout, curse. I contemplated, while I was in the shower, calling Ethan and asking him the less dramatic, simplified male version of what went down before I talked to either one of the Williams sisters. But Ethan and I had grown apart over the last couple of years. It annoyed me the way Kamryn would throw herself at him and he would dismiss her like a fly. He knew that Kam loved him, he allowed her to give of herself and he wouldn't reciprocate and that made me like him less. Kamryn was like my big sister and I totally felt he disrespected her, but how do you tell someone whom they should love?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got dressed in my scrubs and decided to respond to Sophia first. If Kamryn would ever find out she would throw the whole "You-two-love-each-other-just-be-together" in my face. I decided it was worth the risk. "Is she okay?" I texted. Got to love modern technology. The era in which our most intimate moments and thoughts can be transmitted to millions in just a mere click of a "SEND" button. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, not at all. She OD'd on wine, cookie dough and Brown Sugar last night," she responded.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Brown Sugar? Lol. Like packets of it?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"No, like the movie. Lol."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"A black movie?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yes, Noah. Sanaa Lathan, Taye Diggs. The one Kam's pressed for...N e ways it doesn't matter. What are we going to do about it?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"What are we supposed to do? She'll get through this she always does."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I guess. But do you think this will mess up everything? Like all of our friendships and stuff? Like I don't want to have to choose."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Choose? I mean did she really have a choice? Kamryn was her sister. Ethan was just Ethan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I'm sure it will be fine,” I decided to respond.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Ok. I hope you're right."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Of course I am. I mean it wasn't like we all hung out like we used to anyways. Kam, Soph and I were all within an hour of each other. Ethan lived further out near the slopes; a good two hours from the three of us and Zuri lived down south. We grew up. We grew apart. Every now and then we would cross paths, connect and intersect at the important events of our lives, but as time passed so did the necessity to be forever linked. I cared about them all, loved Kam and Soph with all my heart, but it was time I learned who I was outside of them. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Kamryn was next. She deserved a call. I couldn't disrespect her moment with a text.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hey babe," she answered solemnly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Hey what's going on?" I said cheerfully and pretending to be naive. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I made a complete and utter fool of myself, Noah!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Kam-Kam, what's wrong?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Are you busy? Can we get pancakes?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah babe. I'll be at the IHOP in fifteen."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Thanks, babe."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">On my drive over I contemplated what I would say, how I would respond to her broken heart. I didn't have a clue. I never had the right words, just a listening hear. Hopefully that was all she needed. I wasn't the best to give advice. I mean, I was hiding my own feelings for Sophia. Well not really hiding them, I am sure they were painfully obvious, but I ignored them because the ramifications of that could mean the death of an amazing friendship. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"How did we all get here?" I said to myself as I got out of my car and headed into the restaurant. It was so much simpler when we were younger. Or maybe it was that the weight of our lives at that time was lighter. We could carry it with grace, honor, and pride. Now somehow we've managed to make a tangled web of complications with the most delicate of relationships. Being in love with your best friend is typically the ideal circumstance. But that ideal quickly becomes a nightmare when they don't love you back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got a table and ordered coffee for the both of us. Kamryn walked in and her appearance screamed, "I'm trying to cover a broken heart." Her hair pulled up in a messy pony tail. No make-up, not even lip gloss, just chap stick. Sweats, Ugg boots and that god awful Dr. Seuss striped sweater. I rose from my seat and wrapped her in my arms and let her cry her pain onto my chest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"It will be okay," I lied to her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">She just nodded and cried harder telling me she knew I wasn't telling her the truth. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-10006090925216896082010-04-02T14:35:00.000-04:002010-04-02T14:35:15.799-04:00The Morning After - Sophia Speaks<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">They day after my 8th birthday my father told me that I was his favorite and I believed him. He was in his office at his desk grading papers when I walked in and told him I didn't want to be his Princess.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Why not?" he asked as he took the glasses off his face and set them down and looked at me perplexed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Because princesses don't play sports and I want to play basketball!" I said definitively. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He laughed. His laugh was deep and billowy. It always seemed that it came from deep within. He got up from his desk and walked over to me and kneeled so he would be at eyelevel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Soph, you can still play basketball and be my little princess. That's what makes you a special princess. You're not all prissy like the others."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You mean like Kamryn. She's prissy."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You're sister isn’t prissy. She's just not into the same things you are."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"She's spoiled. I know she's you and mommy's favorite. Cause she likes to read and does all good in school and stuff."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">He got up took my hand and walked me over to the leather sofa in his office, sat down and put me on his lap. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Both of my daughters are very special and I love you both very much. But you want to know a secret?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I nodded.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You're my favorite Sophia."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nuh uh. You're lying! You're a teacher and all smart and stuff and Kamryn looks just like you!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"And you remind me of the first woman I ever loved, your mother. A sassy, wiley spitfire."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I smiled. "So really daddy, I'm your favorite?" I asked again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"My favorite Sophia in the whole world," he said as he kissed me on the forehead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It wasn't until when he died that I realized that he played on his words. I was his favorite Sophia, but then again I am pretty sure I was the only Sophia that he knew. Its funny how this story came to me as I made Kam's coffee this morning. The morning after Ethan broke her heart, though she didn't know Ethan and I broke her heart a long time ago. I wonder if I would still be Daddy's princess if he knew that I broke his favorite Kamryn's heart. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I loved my sister. We typically got along pretty well and when we were angry or upset with each other we knew each other well enough on how to deal with it. We were so different, her and I. She was easy to talk to. Dainty. Classy. She expressed herself openly and sometimes dramatically. I was abrasive. Rough. A guy's girl. I held everything within. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Coffee ready?" Kamryn asked interrupting my thoughts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Almost. Want to go shopping today? A new pair a shoes is the best cure for a broken heart!" I said with a smile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Shouldn't you be studying or something?" she asked with her ever so obvious judgmental eyes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"It's a special occasion," I said rolling my eyes. Here I was trying to be nice and her asking me about studying was her way of pointing out my failures. I hated school mostly because I didn't see the point. I guess I can understand her frustrations. I mean I am a 6th year undergrad at the University of MD. I've changed my major 3 times. I just didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. I don't think I can pinpoint a career out of all the things that I love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Seriously Soph? You've got to decide on something." she said filling the awkward silence; reading my thoughts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I know Kam. But we aren't talking about me. We're talking about you. So what are we going to do today to cheer you up?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"<strong><em>We</em></strong> aren't doing anything. You are going to do homework or study or write a paper one of those things I'm sure you should be doing. And I am going to work on my piece for Essence. I have a deadline." she grabbed her cup of coffee and started to walk away. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You can't run from this, Kam and hide in your work. You have to deal with it."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"And you can't run from growing up. You have to deal with it," she said as she left the room.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">What was the point? Why did it all matter? Especially when you couldn't be with the one you loved. I got out my phone and texted Ethan, playing dumb. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"She told you how she felt didn't she?" I texted him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Twenty minutes later he responded, "Yeah."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I laughed. Only because he knew I wanted more than just a yes or no, but he wasn't going to give it to me. He liked it when you worked for it; whatever "it" may be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Did you tell her about us?" I texted back, pretty confident of the answer, but just asking to make him think about the us we used to be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I told you I wouldn't," he responded. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Thank you." I responded. Then his next text stabbed me. "How is she doing?" he asked. When I wanted him to think of me he was thinking of her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"How do you think?" I replied.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And as if he knew he messed up, he replied, "How are you doing?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"How do you think?" I replied again. Part of my response was out of spite, the other part out of truth. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Guilt was like gangrene. It spread and infected you quickly. But how can you amputate your heart? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-35652540936902545202010-03-12T13:36:00.000-05:002010-03-12T13:36:12.983-05:00The Confession - Ethan Speaks<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I watched as Kamryn got into her car and drove herself and our friendship away. Her scent lingered in the night air. She always smelled like a mix of coffee and spring time. I hated the way the bangs of her hair hid her eyes or how she was always catching strands in her mouth when she talked. She was so petite, I'd swear when it was windy she would blow away. And that dimple, that signature dimple. It was the cave in her cheek that held all the secret things that made her smile. And apparently, I was one of them. Or at least I <em>was</em>. </span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I walked into my apartment. Tired from the day. Drained from the conversation. I hated it when girls cried. I hated making them cry, but they <em>always</em> cried. Well Kamryn always cried. She's emotional. Always has been. Let her tell it however, she was passionate. Nah, I'd call it emotional. I smiled. We got into that debate a million times. I would always win, because the debate would end in Kamryn throwing a hissy fit. "See," I'd say, "case and point. Emotional." I shook my head and opened my refrigerator and then shook me head again as I closed it. Wish I hadn't pissed off Kam, then maybe I'd be eating right now. All I had to do was text her and tell her I was hungry and she'd prepare some elaborate meal. She loved to cook, so technically I was doing her the favor. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Her confession wasn't much of a confession to me as I believe it was to herself. I could look in her eyes and know that she loved me. Anyone could. <em>Everyone did</em>. I just pretended not to see it. Like I did with everything that involved change, vulnerability, and emotion. If I didn't see fit to acknowledge it, then it must not exist. That philosophy has gotten me far. Frustrates the heck out of everyone else though.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I got out my guitar. Les Paul Gibson. A gift. From Kamryn. I'm not a jerk. I love her. I do. Always have. I just can't love her the way she needs to be. The way she deserves to be. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I remember the first time I met Kamryn. She was with her mom and Sophia moving into the house next door. I was 16 at the time. Noah, who lived down the block from us wanted hot white chicks to move in. Zuri just didn't want any more white families coming in and taking over the neighborhood. I didn't care either way. In the end though, it seemed we all ended up being pleased with what we got. My mom made Zuri and I go introduce ourselves with her. After the initial introductions, Zuri and I offered to help with the moving. Southern hospitality. I could tell they weren't used to it. City girls. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I can handle it," Sophia said when I reached out for the box she was holding. "</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Ok then," I said as I lifted my hands in defeat. I looked over at Zuri who rolled her eyes and followed her into the house. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I could use help with this one," Kamryn said pointing to box. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Sure thing," I said. I went to lift it speedily and nearly stumbled over, surprised by its weight. "Shh.." I stopped myself, "what the heck is in this box?" I asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Its just my books," she said softly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Guess you read a lot, " I said as I got a better grip and walked into the house. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, but most of them were my fathers. He left them to me. He was a professor. But he died a few months ago," she said solemnly. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Oh, sorry to hear that," I said uncomfortable with her truth. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Thanks. It's the room to the left."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">We walked into her room, which was an amazing. Windows that stretched from floor to ceiling lined the right side of the room and were accompanied by a window seat. The opposite wall was lined with espresso colored book shelves from floor to ceiling. I walked in the direction of the shelves, which had the beginnings of decor: photos of Kam, her sister and others. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"So you're a cheerleader? Middle school out here doesn't have sports."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Really? Well that really doesn't matter to us, considering we're both in high school," she retorted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"My bad, you looked kinda young."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I get that all the time. I'm 17. Sophia is 15."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"<em>And </em>you're the oldest? Never would have thought that."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah. Get that all the time too."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Well I'm on the varsity basketball team," I boasted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"You a senior too?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Nah, a sophomore."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Guess you look a lot <em>older</em> than your age," she said with a smile and at that moment I was formerly introduced to that dimple. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Yeah, I get that a lot," I smiled back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Zuri and I ended up spending that entire day with the Williams sisters. I called Noah over and he helped to. We got them all moved in and then Mom invited them over and Dad cooked out on the grill. I watched the girls carefully. They were both very pretty but polar opposites from each other. Sophia was tall, her skin dark, but complexion smooth and gorgeous. She had a cute round face and a button nose. She was built like an athlete. She was forceful, loud, smart-mouthed, daring, independent. She didn't look or act like a girl who had just lost her dad. Kam was petite. Small stature. Fit, but curvy in all the right places. Mocha-colored. Reserved. Well-poised. Observant. Cautious. Kam wore the worry in her heart on her face. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Time passed and it was always the 5 of us. It's like we were each random dots, connected by the lines of chance to make a family. Through high school sports, homecoming dances, stealing liquor out of our parents liquor cabinets and getting trashed. Through boyfriends and girlfriends, college applications, snowboarding trips, college parties, through my parent's divorce, Noah's mom's sickness, Soph's PMS moments, Kam's valedictorian speech, me, Soph's & Noah's senior prank... I could fill countless of pages filled with priceless memories. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It always amazed me, how as a group we were all close, but individually we held our own relationships as well. I vibed more with Soph. We were a lot alike. I could hang with Soph for hours doing absolutely nothing. Soph could hold her own if I picked a fight, verbally or otherwise. I could tell crude jokes around her without worrying she'd be offended. She was one of the guys, but as we got older I began to notice how much of a girl she was. I reserved it in the back of my mind, visited it once, made promises never to visit it again. Soph and I had our secrets. Secrets Noah or Kam or Zuri didn't know about. Secrets that were the reason Kam cried tonight, though she would never know it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Kam was the mother of us all. Her soul way older than she was. She was like a security blanket. I knew I could always count on her. I allowed myself to tell her things I wouldn't tell anyone else. Asked her questions about girls, let her cook for me, talk to her about music. Kam intimidated me, with her it always had to mean something, she was always trying to read in between the lines. She knew what I needed way before I even knew I needed it. She nurtured and catered. I knew Kam could see me for who I really was and that terrified me. Naturally, I was physically attracted to Kam as well. But with Kam it was overwhelming. With Soph it was easy... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The next morning I woke up to a text message from Soph. It read, "She told you how she felt didn't she?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I responded, "Yeah."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Did you tell her about us?" she replied minutes later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"I told you I wouldn't," I texted back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I got her reply back I swear I could hear her sigh of relief, "Thank you."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I asked her how Kam was doing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"How do you think?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Then I thought of a better question, "How are <em>you</em> doing?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Her response, a duplicate of her answer before, "How do you think?"</span> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div></div>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-55499414396219858672010-02-24T09:09:00.006-05:002010-02-25T08:15:41.635-05:00Mis - a prefix applied to various parts of speech, meaning “ill,” “mistaken,” “wrong,” “wrongly,” “incorrectly,” or simply negatingmiss us<br />miss trust<br />our love<br />mistaken<br />for lust<br />mistakes<br />misguided us<br />to pulling apart<br />instead of sticking in it for the long run<br />misused time<br />misunderstood<br />words spoken<br />misread<br />what was in between the lines<br />miss the way you held me in your arms<br />misled by logic<br />misrepresented the truth<br />miss sunday mornings<br />pancakes and orange juice<br />mysterious<br />the hold i have on you<br />miss us<br />ms. ty<br />misses loveMs. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-1938907725489679962010-02-22T13:49:00.003-05:002010-02-22T13:58:02.117-05:00Wordswords<br />your words<br />just words<br />empty as my heart<br />shh!<br />stop speaking<br />you're tearing us apart<br />useless<br />so use less<br />words<br />your words<br />just words<br />care to elaborate with actions?<br />show me what you won't say<br />do my tears speak to you?<br />can you hear the pain that runs through my veins?<br />words<br />your words<br />just words<br />pen to paper<br />kiss to cheek<br />you turn around<br />walk away<br />and "good-bye, love"<br />were the last words you chose to speak...<br />words<br />your words<br />more than<br />just words<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cuz</span> they cut me deepMs. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-68506012763807395352010-01-28T10:58:00.008-05:002010-01-28T14:56:17.880-05:00The Year After"Got the snack bag!" I yelled to Sophia as we packed up the truck.<br /><br />"Got the fun bag!" she yelled back.<br /><br />"Noah, what did you bring?" I asked Sophia's boyfriend.<br /><br />"My good looks?" he said sarcastically.<br /><br />"Hmm...yeah that's not good enough," I smiled back.<br /><br />"Its good enough for Sophia," he answered.<br /><br />"Actually that's only good enough if it comes with a tank of gas to put in this good ol' SUV," Sophia responded.<br /><br />Noah laughed, "Black girls, you got to love them."<br /><br />"And love her you do, " I said. Noah was good for Soph. He made her laugh. He challenged her. He charmed her. He supported her. He was tall, broad, dirty blond hair, green eyes. He was a med student at John Hopkins. He was her best friend. And best of all I adored him. Their friendship turned into love. Sometimes it does work out that way. Sometimes.<br /><br />Noah caught me in thought, "You going to be okay with seeing him?" he asked. He knew me all to well.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Yeah, I'll be fine. We've all moved on. I'm fine." I said trying to convince herself.<br /><br /><br /><br />"She's fine," Sophia repeated. "We're going to support Zuri and her wedding. We all have been friends for a long time,we should be able to put aside the awkwardness and return to what made us click in the first place. This is going to be an awesome trip. So let's go, already!"<br /><br /><br /><br />"We have to wait. James is coming by to see me off," I said.<br /><br /><br /><br />"And then there's James," Soph grinned. "See, she's fine."<br /><br /><br /><br />I smiled at Soph and the thought of James. James was an elementary music teacher by day and a hot bass guitarist by night. We met at Barnes and Nobel in the poetry section. I was perusing the aisles talking on my cell phone, loudly debating with my editor. Suddenly a tap on my shoulder startled me. I turned around and there he was in all his glory. Tall, at least 6'3, broad shoulders, hair cut low, skin silky smooth mocha and caramel blended into one. His lips looked like they tasted sweet. His jeans hugged him perfectly and the green sweater complimented his perfect complexion. He had a man purse over his shoulder and it one motion he put his finger to his lips and told me to "Shh". I was too entranced to be offended, so i just nodded, mouthed, "I'm sorry," and walked away embarrassed. We crossed paths again at the check out line.<br /><br /><br />"So who won the argument," he asked me.<br /><br /><br />"The jury's still out on that one, " I said sheepishly.<br /><br /><br />"Well for the record, two people don't have to make love to have a connection. If you don't think you characters would go to that level, then don't write it."<br /><br /><br />"Wow, I was really loud, huh?" I asked.<br /><br /><br />"I would call it passionate," he said smiling, showing his Colgate smile.<br /><br /><br />"Thanks, I just wish my editor would understand that."<br /><br /><br />"It's difficult. There's a fine line between not compromising your art and trying to make a living off of it," he said.<br /><br /><br />"Are you a writer?" I asked him wondering how it was he saw my soul.<br /><br /><br />"A songwriter. My name is James," he said extending his hand.<br /><br /><br />"I'm Kamryn," I said taking his hand in mine.<br /><br /><br />"Kamryn Williams? You write pieces for Essence magazine?"<br /><br /><br />"Guilty as charged."<br /><br /><br />"I enjoy your editorials. Definitely. Don't compromise. You can tell you write from the heart. Stay true to yourself."<br /><br /><br />"Thanks. I didn't think guys read my stuff," I said, thinking great, he has to be gay. Of course he is.<br /><br /><br />As if he read my mind, he answered, "Well I guess being a musician I am in touch with my sensitive side, but I'm not gay." He laughed.<br /><br /><br />I noticed his dimples. "Thank God," I thought. I just smiled.<br /><br /><br />"Can I buy you a cup of coffee? Its not everyday I meet a published writer. I'd like to pick your brain."<br /><br /><br />I hesitated. It had been three months since my confession to Ethan. We hadn't spoken in that time. I was leery, but intrigued. "Sure," I answered.<br /><br /><br />And James and I had been dating ever since.<br /><br /><br />"Here comes James now," Noah said bringing me back to present day. James pulled up in his black Maxima, parked his car and got out.<br /><br /><br />"Hey baby girl," he said pulling me close and kissing me on the forehead. "You all ready to go?"<br /><br /><br />"Yes," I whined. "But I wish you were going with me."<br /><br /><br />"I know. Me too. But I have students I have to teach. I'll be there on the day of the wedding."<br /><br /><br />"But I want you to come now!"<br /><br /><br />"Stop whining. Take this time reminisce with your friends. Support Zuri and make peace with Ethan," he said.<br /><br /><br />I looked up into his eyes. They were filled with worry. "I'm at peace with Ethan, James. I told you that. You have nothing to worry about," I comforted him.<br /><br /><br />"I know. I know. I'm just jealous. You have history with him."<br /><br /><br />"History that's history. I love you James Taylor," I said sincerely.<br /><br /><br />"I know babe. But you love him too," he kissed me on the lips and left the words in between us as he walked away.<br /><br /><br />I said nothing. Didn't dispute it. Argue. Just left it in the air. Terrified it was the truth.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-40417865580772118662010-01-20T13:40:00.004-05:002010-01-20T15:17:43.878-05:00The Morning After"I got a feeling! Ooh, Ooh! That tonight's going to be a good night! That tonight's going be a good, good night!" my phone alarm rang.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Noo.." I moaned. It couldn't possibly be morning already.<br /><br /><br /><br />"I got a feeling! Ooh, Ooh!" my alarm starts to sing again. I turn over, grab the phone and shut it off.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Ouch!" my head is ringing. The sun burns my eyes. I try and bury myself under my down comforter.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Rough night?" I hear a familiar voice ask.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Rough would be an understatement," I mumbled.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Obviously," Sophia, my roommate and younger sister says as she crawls to the edge of my bed and waits for me to elaborate. I don't. Instead I try and recall the events of last night. Waiting on Ethan's steps, confessing, driving home in tears, opening the first bottle of wine, then the second, watching my favorite scenes from Brown Sugar...<br /><br /><br /><br />"So, you told him, huh? she asked.<br /><br /><br /><br />"He called you?" I yelled, shot up from under the covers, forgetting the pain in my head from my wine hangover and quickly laid back down.<br /><br /><br /><br />"No, he didn't. Calm down. The bottles of wine, cookie dough package and Brown Sugar menu screen, say a lot love."<br /><br /><br /><br />Crap! It was pathetic. My younger sister caught me being pathetic. She's caught me being or doing much, but pathetic was something I hoped remained my secret. "Yeah, I told him," I sighed. My eyes started to tear up. "It was so embarrassing, Soph. Like I just yelled at him that I loved him and rambled on and on and all he could muster up to say was something about taking a step back."<br /><br /><br /><br />"You think that maybe that might be the best thing right now."<br /><br /><br /><br />"It may be the best thing, but it could also be the worse."<br /><br /><br /><br />"Why would it be the worse thing? Because you love him and he doesn't love you in the same way?"<br /><br /><br /><br />"Because my love could have just cost me my best friend," I said.<br /><br /><br /><br />There was a pause. A marination of thoughts. Its funny how loud silence can be. Because Soph couldn't come up with a response told me she knew I was right. No matter how Ethan and I tried to recover from this, it would always be different between us. My words left stains that neither of us could remove. We could cover up, overlook, pretend they aren't there, but under the surface we would always be well aware.<br /><br /><br /><br />"So what are you going to do now? Drink your life away," she said with a smile. She was great at that. Moving on. Even after Daddy died, she just picked up and moved on like it didn't phase her. I admired her strength to hold it together, even if it was her weakness.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Coffee," I sighed. "Right now, I need lots and lots of coffee." I started to pull myself out of the bed. There was a slight spin to the room. Soph got up with me, put her arm through mine.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Its going to be okay. I promise. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day it will be okay. You've been through worse."<br /><br /><br /><br />"I know. Just sucks, that's all," I said as I pulled away from her and headed to my bathroom.<br /><br /><br /><br />"I'll make your coffee, kay sis."<br /><br /><br /><br />"Ok. Thanks," I said solemnly.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Kamryn, look at it this way: his life, his choice, his loss," she shrugged her shoulders and walked out the door.<br /><br /><br /><br />"Or mine," I thought.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-23026805755831598472010-01-12T11:15:00.003-05:002010-01-12T11:39:49.896-05:00Self Examination... Gets Me Every TimeI'm better THAN that<br />I deserve MORE than this<br />I AM worthy of love...<br /><br />Let me speak to you<br />And though my words may cut<br />And they may bruise<br />They will indeed heal you<br /><br />What you want and what you need<br />Are always two different things<br />The heart and the mind always fight<br />And they fight to win<br /><br />But in order to change what you need<br />Into what you want<br />You must believe in your worth<br /><br />So say it with me my child,<br />And say it loud and clear<br /><br />I'm better THAN that<br />I deserve MORE than this<br />I AM worthy of love...<br /><br />Which means I need more than you...<br /><br />Time to let it go, Ty.<br /><br />Time<br />to<br />let<br />it<br />go...<br /><br />*****************<br /><br />Funny how life works. How the unknown reveals itself. How that which has been known all along suddenly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ephifanizes</span>... if <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">that's</span> a word... The cycle won't break unless I break the cycle. Find the root of the problem and correct it. I give to much of myself to easily.. and no, not in the unchaste type of way. But in every relationship I have with most, they don't have to earn it. They don't have to fight for it. I just give it. Because of that fear. That underlying fear of being alone. But you're not alone, are you Ty? Nope. You have the relationship with your Heavenly Father, you have your <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">precious</span> joy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Makaai</span>...you have more than most. So stop being afraid. Okay. Done. HA! Yeah right. Wish it was that easy. But like most things, I'm working on it. What is mankind right now anyway but a work in progress? So my theme for 2010: NO FEAR. TAKE THE RISK. ENJOY THE RIDE. LOVE YOURSELF. LOVE YOUR LIFE.<br /><br />Let's see how it goes...Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-85609349792007242272010-01-11T11:56:00.003-05:002010-01-11T12:18:56.493-05:00RegretSix letters<br />Two syllables<br />But right in between the R and the T<br />Sits me<br /><br />Taking two steps forward<br />Only to be knocked twenty steps back<br />The ability to tell you "no"<br />Is an ability I lack<br /><br />Growing up<br />But acting young<br />Maturity shows up at its convenience<br />And in its absence loneliness, desire and want takes its place<br />When I close my eyes I still see your face<br /><br />Do you wish you could take it back?<br />Erase every moment,<br />Every word,<br />Every touch...<br />How is it that I miss what I've never had this much?<br /><br />Six letters<br />Two syllables<br />Seems empty on paper as it leaks from my pen<br />But so full in my heart and soul within<br />And right in between the R and the T<br />Sits you and meMs. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-32817301499865324042009-11-12T20:31:00.002-05:002009-11-12T20:36:27.043-05:00ForgivenessIntoxicated with thoughts of the past<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tattoos</span> over the scars<br />But even the ink doesn't cover them<br />Perfectly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">flawed</span><br />Beautifully broken<br />Happily hopeless<br />Paints the me<br />The me I am<br />Without letting you go...<br /><br />A weight I no longer carry<br />A definition I no longer own<br />A person I no longer am<br />Because I've let you go...<br /><br />I'm a warrior<br />Fighting fearlessly.<br />I'm a survivor<br />Always getting back up after defeat<br />I'm a butterfly<br />Finally flying free...<br /><br />And if the new me<br />Ever reunited with the old he<br />I'd probably speak...<br />"I forgive you, like I've forgiven me."Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-7956975081910817842009-11-12T20:24:00.003-05:002009-11-12T20:31:32.082-05:00Common SenseIts a whisper.<br />Do you hear it?<br />My secret.<br /><br />Its a sunset.<br />Do you see it?<br />My beauty.<br /><br />Its a stampede.<br />Do you feel it?<br />My heart racing.<br /><br />Its honeysuckle.<br />Do you smell it?<br />My scent.<br /><br />Its love.<br />Do you taste it?<br />My kiss.<br /><br />Shh...<br />Don't say it.<br /><br />Close your eyes.<br />Be blinded.<br /><br />Stop, don't touch it.<br />Stay numb.<br /><br />No.<br />Don't breathe it in.<br /><br />Sorry, I can't feed it to you,<br />My love.<br /><br />Because I'm scared,<br />And you don't even know I exist...<br /><br />God, can you please take away all my sense?Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-62278575285005805042009-09-26T00:14:00.004-04:002009-09-27T00:54:32.718-04:00The ConfessionI waited outside for him. It was a cool night. Crisp. The crickets chirped. The leaves rustled. Children were being tucked in. Husbands were kissing their wives on their foreheads. Grandmothers were sighing over the nightly news. Teenage girls were texting their boyfriends goodnight. And here I sat. Outside. In the crisp air waiting for him to come home. Tonight I felt just a little bit brave.<br /><br />His car pulled up in the driveway. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered. As he got out the car and walked to the porch, I stood up.<br /><br />"Hey," I whispered. My hands were sweating and shoved in the pockets of my jeans. He stood there. All 6 feet of him. Solid. Masculine. Bold.<br /><br />"What are you doing here?" he asked perplexed. "It's late. You shouldn't be out here by yourself."<br /><br />"I know right. Crazy. I could probably be attacked or something," I said sarcasticly.<br /><br />"What are you doing here?" he asked again. The way he spoke over the rustle of the leaves made it sound musical.<br /><br />"I had to talk to you. I had to explain what's been going on with me lately."<br /><br />"Right, now? Can't this wait, it's been a long day, I'm tired. You should go home." He starts to put his key in the door. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay. Night Kamryn."<br /><br />"Ethan, I love you!" I spat. I took a step back from him, startled by my own words. They pierced the air. All of a sudden silence blanketed the night. As desparately as I needed to speak the words, I needed even more desparately to take them back. But I couldn't. Once the words left my lips I didn't own them anymore. He owned them now. I wondered what he would do with my most precious possession.<br /><br />He finally began to speak. "Why do I get the feeling you don't mean in just a we're best buds kinda way?"<br /><br />"Look, I know its crazy. Its absurd. It makes no sense. I've told you over and over again in word and deed how impossible the very idea of us being together would be, but it just snuck up on me. Bit me in the butt. I did exactly what I didn't want to do. I caught feelings. And I hate it. I don't want it to be this way, but it is what it is..."<br /><br />"But you've been treating me like crap lately. It's like you are in permanent PMS mode or something. Nagging about this and about that... Nothing I do is ever good enough for you," he complained.<br /><br />"I know. I told you it didn't make any sense. I've been building this wall all my life. I tell you you're not worthy. But its just a misdirect. Turning the attention on you when its really me. I'm not worthy. I've been lying to you and to myself. I guess in trying to convince you that you're just incapable of any relationship then hopefully my desire for one with you will dissappear."<br /><br />"You're rambling. You always ramble when you're nervous," he said shaking his head and massaging his forehead.<br /><br />"You know me too well," I say with a girlish grin.<br /><br />He answers me back with the most stern of looks. "Obviously, not well enough."<br /><br />"Maybe I should have been an actor or something," I joke. <br /><br />"You should stay away from drama."<br /><br />"I try," I said softly.<br /><br />"Not hard enough." <br /><br />There was this long pause that followed his words. He stared at the paint chipping off off the floorboards of the porch. I stared into the night sky fighting back tears. My heart ached for him. It ached in ways I have never felt before. Of course I wanted more from him. I wanted him to hold me. To tell me he loved me too. To occupy the lonely space in my heart. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.<br /><br />"Look, maybe we just need to take a step back. A break from one another. Really try to figure out what we want from this relationship," he said breaking the silence.<br /><br />"I already know what I want," I mumbled.<br /><br />"What?" he asked.<br /><br />"Look, I didn't tell you hoping you would or even wanting you to say it back," I lied.<br /><br />"Yes you did."<br /><br />I hate him. "I just thought you should know, Ethan. Thought maybe it would make you understand my behavior. You know what I'm just going to go." I started to walk quickly past him really wanting to run away from the rejection.<br /><br />"This changes everything, you know that, right?" his question chased me down the driveway.<br /><br />I turned around to face him. The breeze dried the tears from my face. I look at him. He doesn't seem as tall as before. His eyes look tired. He's slouched at the shoulders. His skin oily from the stress of the day. His lips a perfect pink, parted, ready to speak.<br /><br />"Actually, it changes nothing at all," I say and turn back around and walk away.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-21169458775890040222009-09-14T21:36:00.002-04:002009-09-14T22:01:24.366-04:00Stepping Up = Stepping BackIt's time to step up. Step back. Readjust. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Reexamine</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Reevaluate</span>. The goal: TO BE BETTER. Better mother. Better daughter. Better sister. Better friend. Better.<br /><br />I'm the type that easily forgives. Screw me over once. Screw me over twice. And I'll still call you friend. Still keep you in that special place in my heart. Still love you. Forgiveness is easy. Its the forgetting that presents the challenge. Somehow I relive it. With each mistake made a crescendo of the past mistakes rushes my memory. I make it difficult for the ones I love <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">cuz</span> I can't let it go. But its not just to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">their</span> disadvantage, my inability to let it go, but its to my detriment as well. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Every time</span> I get hurt, I have this habit of bringing it back to myself. I mean, I've been abused ever since I was seven years old and though those mistakes were far from my own I carry the weight of the guilt as if it was mine to own. So I resolve right here, right now, today. To try and let it go. In the words of the Beatles I will "Let it Be"... Forgiving and forgetting the sins of myself and others will lead to a better me. <br /><br />My mother is a gem. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Precious</span>. Its because she survived that I've chosen to survive. I don't let her know that as often as I want to though. When you love someone you tell them... I should tell her more often. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Appreciating</span> those who <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">sacrificed</span> so that I could have will make me a better me.<br /><br />My son is my heart. But it kills me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">every time</span> he asks me for something that I can't provide. I try to be superwoman. Do it all on my own. I never knew myself to be prideful. But humility runs scared from me when recognizing my limitations as a mother. I have these huge expectations for myself and fall short of them each and every time. This leads to a wave of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">disappointment</span> and the cycle continues. Humility leads to peace of mind. A better mother. A better me.<br /><br />I live by this mantra: Stay true to yourself. Stay true to God. Stay true to those you love. Though lately, I haven't been living it as much as I have been preaching it. I can't speak the truth when it comes to a certain situation. The lies protect me from the pain. The lies are a tent, shielding me from the storm of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">disappointment</span>, rejection, heartache. The worse part is I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I stay on the broad and spacious I'll push him away. I move to the cramped and narrow, I push him away. Guess its better he remembers me as sincere, honest and true. Rather than as a liar, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">perpetrator</span>, fraud. One day... I'll take the leap. I'll give him the truth if that's what he wants. But most of the time, the truth is more difficult than the lies.<br /><br />But I'm being better. Stepping up. Stepping back.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-17855340557831735452009-08-04T17:31:00.003-04:002009-08-04T17:54:56.993-04:00The Girl In The MoonYesterday tore me apart<br />And I didn't even know it<br />Today you broke my heart<br />And my eyes cried to show it<br />Tomorrow I don't look forward to you<br />Because the truth I'll have to face it<br />Sleeping without you in my arms<br />Is like sleeping with the knife you left in my back<br />Holding on to the lies you told me<br />Keep me from staying on track<br />To recovery, to sanity<br />To gaining all that I have lacked<br />With you<br />How do you sleep at night?<br />When its murder you've committed<br />How do you kiss her with those lips?<br />When with them your sins you have admitted<br />How do you love with hate in your heart?<br />Your heart cold, dead, tormented<br />I blink and yesterday is gone<br />I exhale and then its today<br />I pray and tomorrow is on its way<br />The girl in the moon<br />I stay blue<br />Over you<br />Smile with the tears on my face<br />Alone with the stars<br />Sad with the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">milky way</span><br />While you laugh<br />Grounded on earth<br />Happy, or so they say<br />Wish upon a star<br />And may your wish come true<br />May I be granted some release<br />From my prison soon,<br />Me the girl who cries,<br />Me the girl who ate your lies,<br />Me the girl alone,<br />Me the girl in the moon.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-26204935986483885092009-07-24T12:08:00.004-04:002009-07-24T13:16:31.682-04:00Failure. Tangled Webs. Truth. Sacrifice.So its been a while. Ironic enough, its when I find myself most vulnerable. Most afraid. Most <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">depleted</span> of happiness that I sit down to pen my confusion and hope to find an answer. The answer... a moment of clarity. I write in hopes of reading between the lines. They, (whoever "they" are) they say you're most honest in your art. So hopefully by the end of this I will find the truth. And even more than that I hope that I am ready to face it.<br /><br />I tried something new. Had this great idea about being a better person. Making a fresh start. So now I find <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">myself</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ranson</span>, WV. Really from the outskirts of Washington, DC to West Virginia? Who would have thought? The worse part is I feel like its not going to work out. Like I failed. And all those who said I would, well they were right. I shouldn't be so hard on myself you know? But at the same time, I wonder why I even thought this could work. I really, really, really wanted this to work. And I NEVER get what I want. I always get the short end of the stick. So now I'm all depressed and all I want to do is sleep, cry and eat cookie dough. Ha! But more than that, I want to be in the arms of someone who loves me. I want them to tell me that its all going to be okay. I want to believe them when they do.<br /><br />Oh, and then there is the tangled webs that I have begun to weave. Why am I always in situations that end up <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">snowballing</span> into things that are far beyond my control? Its like I got front row season tickets to a sold out concert. Who's performing? DRAMA. Never heard of them? Their songs are huge hits! "He Say, She Say" "I Love You But I'm Too Afraid to Admit It", "Friends With Benefits" "We Can't Be Friends, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Cuz</span> I Might Fall In Love With You" "My Roommate & I Like The Same Boy" "We Can't Be Friends Because I Am In Love With You" "I Dumped A Nice Guy for a Jerk." I'm sure at some point in your life you've heard one of these records.<br /><br />I want to be all things to all people. And I learned a long time ago that you can't please everyone, but for some reason, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">every time</span> I come to that conclusion its like a slap in the face. I am a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pleaser</span>.... and not in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">skanky</span> kind of way. I want to make everyone happy. I want to be forever surrounded by the people that I care about. So I try my hardest to be the best friend that I can be. I take things that the normal person wouldn't take. I hold onto relationships that are past overdue trashing. I apologize incessantly. I care way too much. I devote time and energy on developing these relationships, nurturing them, trying to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">succeed</span> at bringing the best out of people. Its exhausting. Its more than I can handle. But its the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">sacrifice</span> I make so that I don't end up alone. Pathetic? Selfish? Yeah, I know.<br /><br />So I'm writing again... see, I told you I had a lot to say and no one to say it to. Did I find truth? Yeah. Was I ready to face it? Not quite.<br /><br />I think I've finally written about <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sacrifice</span> guys... so here it is.<br /><br />My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Sacrifice</span><br /><br />I'll sit back<br />And I'll pray for you<br />I'll stay awake while you sleep<br />I'll run while you walk<br />Away from me<br /><br />I'll hold your hand<br />When you're scared<br />I'll say all you hard good-byes<br />I'll tell you the truth you need to hear<br />While you whisper me lies<br /><br />I'll watch you make your bed<br />And then I'll lay in it<br />I'll let you eat my food off my plate<br />I'll give you a hug full of love<br />While you kiss me with lips of hate<br /><br />I'll hold you when you cry<br />Dream your nightmares<br />I'll fight the battles you don't want to fight<br />I'll wash away all your darkness<br />While you dim my light<br /><br />I'll let them mock me<br />For the decisions that I make<br />I'm not going anywhere<br />So stop pushing me away.Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-65846240548814603332009-06-10T10:46:00.005-04:002009-06-10T14:07:29.905-04:00Sacrifice<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Sooo</span>... Writers are supposed to write and I haven't been writing. This doesn't mean that I haven't been thinking about writing though. I want to write something centered around the theme of sacrifice. Its the greatest act of love. When you willingly give. Without hesitation. Like Jesus. Like mothers for their children. Automatic. Unconditional. But then the line gets fuzzy when its loving someone else. Those who aren't bond to you by blood. My vision gets blurry. I want to love. I want to give so much of myself. But here is where the problem arises. How do I give of myself without losing myself?<br /><br />Then there is the sacrifice I've subconsciously decided to do before. Where I stand back and watch the one I love not love me back. Play my part as "friend" because he'll never see me beyond that role. All because if it means his happiness, I'll sacrifice mine... because I love him.<br /><br /><em>"...I'm unworthy, i can see you're above me. But I can be lovely, given the chance...Seems I want what I know is going to leave me hungry...If I can't hold you can I give you a kiss " - Kelly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Clarkson</span></em><br /><em></em><br /><em></em><br />Fool me once,<br />Shame on you<br />Fool me twice<br />Shame on me…<br /><br />Is it stupid to have faith in someone?<br />Is it crazy to trust them with your heart?<br />Should have known you were bad from the start.<br />“Be wise, my son”<br />Counsel I should have heeded<br />But because I was too proud<br />My soul is left bleeding<br />“Do not be misled”<br />And boy was I deceived<br />But it’s my fault for heading towards<br />Your web of deceit<br />Curiosity killed the cat…<br />It <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">assassinated</span> me<br />You called and I came running<br />You asked and I answered<br />Now where are you?<br />You’<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">ve</span> left me a mess<br />I can’t seem to clean on my own<br />The red wine colored tears<br />That have stained my cheeks<br />Can’t be removed<br />With the strongest bleach<br />I should have known better<br />I guess I did<br />Had a conscience that was Bible-trained<br />And just <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t listen to it<br />I am better off without you<br />But it kills me<br />That you <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">couldn</span>’t love me as much as I loved you<br />But how could you?<br />You <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">didn</span>’t even love yourself enough<br />To stay within God’s fold<br />You left Him<br />And I followed you<br />But then just as easily, you left me<br />So I turned around<br />And went back to the One<br />Who I know will forever with me be<br /><br />Fool me once,<br />Shame on you<br />Fool me twice,<br />Shame on me,<br />But no more foolish shall I be…Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-77548060788558381402009-05-20T15:04:00.004-04:002009-05-20T15:15:20.365-04:00A Moment of ClarityI feel sad today. I feel like there is something missing. Like there is something I need or want but I have no idea what it is. So I've listened to Ryan Adams cover of "Wonderwall" about a million times and Bethany Joy Galeotti's "Feel This" a million and one. And then for a million and two times I listened to Kate Voegele's "Kindly Unspoken".<br /><br />Then I revisted a poem I stareted about a month ago. Tweaked it. Finished it. I don't feel any better. But at least something good came out of the day. But then "good" is all relative. Enjoy.<br /><br /><div align="left"><strong></strong> </div><div align="left"><strong>A Moment of Clarity<br /><br />I search for truth in your eyes<br />As you speak to me lies<br />Coward.<br />You’re hiding behind the words you speak<br />Cowards.<br />Both you and I<br />Both you and me<br />When will the sun rise?<br />When will the war end?<br />When will we finally let</strong></div><div align="left"><strong>It </strong></div><div align="left"><strong>In<br />Love<br />Hearts<br />Trust<br />Us.<br />Can you feel the butterflies?<br />The chills you leave down my spine?<br />Or my heart racing towards the finish line?<br />I look for the moment<br />When we both stop playing the game<br />Resign to the sidelines<br />Where it’s just the reality of you and I<br />Is this the moment?<br />Or did the moment just pass us by?<br />Hiding our hearts<br />Hiding behind the notion<br />Love is overrated<br />Behind the belief we’re just too good for love<br />I at times want to surrender<br />Give into defeat<br />Because the façade is getting too painful to keep<br />I search for truth in between the lies<br />I dig to decipher what you are saying in between the lines<br />All the while hiding behind my wall<br />My wall not as impregnable as I want to think<br />How did I let you get to me?<br />I find myself suddenly wanting to<br />Taste your kiss<br />Smell your scent<br />Feel your love<br />As your thick arms wrap around me…<br />And then I remember<br />The war I’m fighting in<br />My moment of clarity<br />I have yet to receive<br />So I lay in wait<br />And in want<br />Cowards.<br />Afraid to see<br />Clearly.<br /><br /><br /></strong></div>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-41480339012053658302009-05-19T13:52:00.000-04:002009-05-19T14:16:24.713-04:00Tell Me A SecretSo there's this thing I do. Weird and unexplainable. May motivate you to question my mental stability, but its honest. Its real. So here it is. Brace yourselves. Whenever my heart is heavy, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">burdened</span> by sadness, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">loneliness</span> or self-deprecation, I have a desire to be comforted by words. Hugged, snuggled and kissed by truths that would soothe my soul and calm my spirit. So when that desire arises, I say to myself, "Tell me a secret." Crazy, right?<br /><br />It all <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">originated</span> from a dream I had. Its a dream of my father. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pre</span>-cancer. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pre</span>-death. He's sitting in his recliner, all <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">burly</span>, healthy, laughing...(he was always laughing). He was sitting there watching a basketball game and then I appear. My 26 year old body crawls into his lap like a five year old little girl. I'm sad. And as he wraps me in his arms, I say, "Daddy, tell me a secret." He then fulfills my request by saying all the things a little girl needs to hear from her dad. "You're beautiful just the way you are." "He didn't deserve you". "When its your time to find true love, it will happen". "Stop comparing yourself to her. Be happy in your own skin". "You're talented and smart". "Take your time, enjoy life". "It's going to be okay, I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">promise</span>". And in the dream, those words, just because they came from him, make all the pain and sadness <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">disappear</span>.<br /><br />I tried a couple of times to transfer that dream into reality. Both times in the absence of my father, I asked significant males in my life. Once I got: "I'm all out of light bulbs. Haven't had the time to go to the store and get more and so I am attempting to make a grilled cheese in the dark." The other time, the gentleman told me his biggest fear. "To fall head over heels in love with someone and they fall head over heels in love with me. And then one day they wake up and they are bored with me and so they leave." Stark contrast? Safe to say that although I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">thoroughly</span> amused by one and could completely identify with the other, neither one satisfied that desire. Neither one comforted, hugged, snuggled or kissed.<br /><br />So now when the desire arises and the urge just has to be met by someone wise and fatherly, I say a little prayer. Then I open the pages of my Bible to Psalms 37:24 or Isaiah 40:29-31 or 1 Peter 5:7.<br /><br />The poem below is one I wrote a while ago when I asked the question and decided to answer it myself....<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>Whatever Helps You Sleep At Night</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center">Tell me a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">secret</span>, </div><div align="center">One that hugs and kisses</div><div align="center">Instead of destroys and mutilates.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Tell me a truth, </div><div align="center">One that soothes like a mother's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">lullaby</span></div><div align="center">Instead of frightens like a nightmare.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Give me a hope,</div><div align="center">With conviction and confidence</div><div align="center">So that I can believe and trust in it.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">And now, </div><div align="center">I'll give you a lie,</div><div align="center">And tell you, "I do"</div><div align="center">Though I don't</div><div align="center">Because I can't</div><div align="center">And so I won't.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Can you keep a secret? </div>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366524101600478479.post-2224107520530050262009-05-18T11:09:00.001-04:002009-05-19T14:16:57.021-04:00Writers Write. Writers Read. Writers Share.So I am completely new to this. Not even sure if I should be here or why I am. I'm so far behind technology, I'm barely keeping up with my six year old son. It makes me laugh when my parents gave him a bunch of old Disney films on VHS. He told his grandmother, this isn't going to work on his TV. It needs to be flat and shaped like a circle.<br /><br />I guess I am doing this because I feel like I have a lot to say and just no one to say it to. I am a writer. And my creative writer teacher my junior year of high school told me writers write. So I'm writing. Then he said writers read. I still working on that. Most of my reading is spent on building my spirituality. And then he said writers share... so this is what this is... me sharing.<br /><br />This first poem has an interesting back story. Basically a guy friend, a new addition to my inner circle, did something to make me cry... now if you know me, you know that I am a crier, so this wasn't a stretch. But it wasn't the good cry. It was a you-broke-my-heart-shot-me-down-handed-me-an-insult-that-pierced-my-soul kinda cry... but we worked it out. Blamed it on his just being misunderstood. I love him to death... even if he doesn't quite deserve it. J/k!<br /><br />I love this piece and its one of my favorites to date. Because when I sat down to write how I felt about the situation I thought my pen would paint words of hate, bitterness and angst on the paper... however my subconscious surprised me and even him when I read it to him. So... here it is. Tell me what you think!<br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>If I Could Write A Poem About the Day You Pissed Me Off, Here’s What It Would Be… Surprised?<br /></strong><br />I look through your eyes and I see you<br />I listen between the lies and I hear you<br />You hold me in your arms and I feel you<br />Now if only you can look into my eyes<br />And see what I see<br />If you could step into my soul<br />And realize that you are the man you want to be<br />Let me love you<br />Guide you through your insecurities<br />So you can rise above it all<br />The hatred, the ignorance and the immaturity<br />Place your hand on my heart<br />And feel it racing<br />Wipe away my tears<br />And be confident of my forgiveness<br />Kiss me on the forehead and promise me<br />Your sins you won’t repeat.<br />Feel safe in my arms<br />And know I won’t walk away easily.<br />And I hope that if I fall from grace,<br />You’d pick me up and stand me on my feet<br />I assure you that in my heart<br />No ulterior motive lives<br />And I stand before you<br />Completely true to what we set out to be<br />So don’t fake it for me<br />Let the words that leave your lips<br />Always be genuine and honest.<br />Stay true to the God that you love<br />Stay true to who you are and who you want to be<br />Stay true to me<br />And there will be salvation<br />And a friendship for eternity </div>Ms. Tyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02115665123649226924noreply@blogger.com0