tell him the truth

"Look I know it's no excuse but I'm only human, and young at that. So I'm gonna make mistakes, then hope you understand."

It had all gone so terribly wrong. Mainly, the relationship and that phone call.

Royce had never felt anything like what he felt with Caroline. The very first time he saw her, he loved her. He tried to play it cool, but he had been so obvious in that first moment. Just awe at this beautiful creature before him. He couldn’t fake it. And time would teach that lesson to him over and over again. He adored her and he was foolish enough to think that was enough. That their relationship would be a carefree journey. Something straight out of the movies.

Instead things fell apart. Which in hindsight wasn’t actually surprising. They went to romantic comedies together, had drinks in the evening on the couch, met each other’s parents. But they kept each other at a distance. They didn’t talk about their dreams or fears. They didn’t talk about how they loved each other. They acted like a couple. And were stupid enough to be surprised that acting wasn’t enough.

It was no one’s fault. It certainly wasn’t hers. Royce was the one that had become unsettled first. That even before he could really recognize it, knew that something wasn’t quite right. And then one night he went out with the guys and he met a girl. A random girl at a random bar. She was cute enough, but so were a million other girls. But she sat and she talked to him. They left together and went back to her place. And they sat and talked more. They talked about everything, and it was suddenly so clear everything that was wrong with his relationship with Caroline.

And he was but a man, so he did what men sometimes do. He let the moment carry him and he slept with that girl. He couldn’t even look at her as he left the next morning. He couldn’t look at himself. Caroline was out of town but the phone was sitting right by him in the car. So he called her and he told her what happened. She cried. He pretended not to. She told him so much in that thirty minute conversation. So much about the dreams she had for their life together, the things he did that made her love him, the hope that she found in him. It was everything he had ever needed to hear. Just a day too late. And then she was gone. She was done with him and she was gone.

Royce sat there. By that stupid phone. And he felt physically ill. Shortness of breath, dizziness, nausea, a numbingly sharp pain throughout his body. Maybe this was shock. Or maybe this was what it felt like when your heart actually broke.

harder to breathe

"Does it kill? Does it burn? Is it painful to learn that its me that has all the control?"

It had taken awhile, but her plan had come together well. Of course, she had never suspected otherwise. Beth had perfected this game.

In the beginning, she had really hoped things would be different. That Will would be different from those other guys. That he was interested in more than her body. But she was wrong. Beth wavered for a moment recalling the way her hope and desire had been killed with one quick conversation. Will made it perfectly and painfully clear that this was just a sex thing. Of course, she had controlled her reaction and agreed convincingly.

Now here she was four months later. The so-called sex thing had continued. And Beth had spent these four months lying to herself, burying any real feelings she had for Will and encouraging the notion that he should be treated just like any other guy from her past. Use then lose.
Beth recognized the perfect moment a week away. Will had suddenly become a little more tender when they had sex. He had shown signs of jealousy when he saw another guy approach her. He had called her a few times just to chat.

Beth turned to him that morning after she got dressed, after a night of putting in some of her best work. She told him that she thought they should end things, that she was ready to move on to a new fling, that this had just gotten a little stale. And of course that they should still remain friends.

She saw it. That look of surprise, disappointment, confusion. The look of being hurt. She knew that look because she had felt it, and now Beth was supposed to be relishing in passing that hurt along to him. Instead, her own hurt surfaced suddenly and threatened to break her whole facade. She grabbed her things, threw a quick goodbye over her shoulder, and left him there alone in his apartment trying to figure out what had just happened.

Beth made it to her car, which was thankfully parked out of sight from Will's apartment. The tears came streaming down despite her best effort to calm herself. She wiped them away frantically, knowing that no matter how bad she felt now her pride would never let her change her mind. This was done.

goodbye to you

"I want you but I'm not giving in this time."

It was odd because Lacey didn't really believe in trial and error. She never accepted that adage that one has to learn the hard way. She had never been a gambler, especially when it came to her personal life. Yet the past two years had been little more than a roll of the dice. And while she knew that some of the blame should be on her shoulders, she had no qualms about placing all of it with him. Devin.

Lacey met Devin in the most innocent of ways, even though know she found herself doubting that that meeting was as random as it seemed. But hopefully it was. Two people meet in a grocery store Raisin Bran versus Raisin Bran Crunch in the cereal aisle. He was charming, kind, and cute. He asked for her number and Lacey gave it to him. By their third date, they were practically inseparable. Maybe that was part of the problem, that things had happened too fast for either one of them to really be objective.

Their relationship was intense. The arguments were big, and always contained insulting words and harsh accusations that shook Lacey to the core. But Devin always seemed so sincere, so apologetic and willing to compromise after the fight was over. He always admitted defeat, which Lacey enjoyed at the time, but now realized was his strategic way of being in control of the relationship. But the good days were so good that it helped her forget the bad. Peaceful walks along the water's edge, strolling hand in hand. Late night philosophical conversations. A shared love of classic movies and bourbon.

But the bad days were so bad. And they had become far too frequent by the end. Lacey thought maybe they had always been unraveling, that they had never really been united in the first place. That somehow she had fallen into the spider's web that was Devin's love and by some stroke of grace she had survived without getting her head bitten off.

But her heart was breaking as she walked out the door of his apartment. They both knew it would be the last time without it being said. Devin didn't fight it, as if his conscience took over for a moment and demanded he let her go. She made it out the door, down the hallway, and into the elevator before she looked back. Even then she was mad at herself for the tiny speck of hope that existed inside her. Hope that Devin would be standing in that door, with tears in his eyes and a small speck of his own hope that she would come back to him. But Devin wasn't there and Lacey shakily pushed the button for the lobby.

harlem blues

There are beautiful days
The sun is shining, the sky is a gentle blue
A quick breeze can pick up the sound of children's laughter and the smell of flowers blooming
And every moment feels tailor made
Like the sun is shining directly to you
Every breath gets better

But storm clouds gather so fast with a slip of the tongue
The sky darkens with every crease in his furrowed brow
And his words are raindrops, each one coming harsher and faster than the last
Lightning strikes angrily the sweet brown eyes of heaven
And you're not sure if you hear thunder or simply the sound of your heart breaking and falling in pieces to the ground
You move with the wind, he takes one step forward so you take one back

The search for a haven is in vain, so you gather your strength to quietly wait out the storm
You know its almost over when the rain changes to a soft, salty ocean streaming down your face
And it hurts to know that even through this storm you can his sun shine

"Like much weather, when he'll change nobobdy knows."

every morning

"Once again, as predicted, left my broken heart open and you ripped it out."

Brooke knew she looked perfect tonight. Little black dress. Strappy, red stilettos. She had taken special to make sure every part of her was as alluring as possible. And as she walked through the club that night, she knew she would be able to accomplish her task.

After about an hour in the club, she spotted him. Martin. He was there with his friends as she had suspected. She caught him eyeing her once and Brooke knew her plan would work. She smiled coyly at him and was pleased to see that such a simple thing gave him the courage to come over.

As Martin began making his way across the room, Brooke turned to get a new drink at the bar. And to enact step two of her plan. She spotted a suitable guy towards the end of the bar. Well-dressed, well-groomed, offering to pay for her drink which she readily accepted.

Brooke couldn't have planned the timing better. Martin stopped to speak to her friends before making his final approach to her. By the time he got to her, Brooke was flirting shamelessly with the bar guy. She casually said hey to Martin, giving him as much attention and affection as a distant cousin, and then turned back to her conversation with the bar guy. But not before she caught the look of astonishment and disappointment cross Martin's face.

Brooke had a hard time masking her face. And stopping the small part of her that wanted to grab Martin and apologize. But she quickly shook off her doubt. It had taken her too long to get past her own astonishment and disappointment over how casually Martin had treated her recently. Brooke had made the mistake once already to open herself to him, only to be shaken by his lack of call and apparent lack of care. But she was not the type to wallow in self-pity too long. Getting even was much more liberating.

i wanna know

“I wish that I could take a journey through your mind and find emotions that you always try to hide.”

Archer saw her hiding before she even knew she was. They had been fighting. A vehement argument. The kind that, upon climax, ends in either passionate intimacy or days of silence. As the fight had escalated, Archer was sure this was one that would end passionately. Although he hid it from Lana, his anger had already subsided and he was more than ready to move on to the make-up part of the game.

Then he saw her hide. He was so caught up in the motions of the fight that he truly wasn’t even sure what he had said. Archer thought but he couldn’t find his words, whatever painful chord of truth he had struck in Lana. But he saw her face. The brief moment where the surprise and pain and shame and disappointment shook her, the moment her façade immediately faltered and she was more vulnerable than he had ever seen.

Archer stepped towards her. He wanted nothing more to comfort her, fight or sex be damned. But the moment had passed and now she was hiding. Her face was no longer angry from the fight. And what was most carefully hidden was that flash of vulnerability. It had vanished, and had taken Lana with it. True, she was standing there in front of him. Her face was poised, her stance confident, her voice steady. Too poised, too confident, too steady. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She had retreated to some safe, inner place. A place Archer desperately wanted to touch, to see, to hold and comfort, but a place which he was strictly forbade.

So this fight ended in silence. A silence that Archer knew would end in a few days. But this silence would be different than the ones before. This one came with the unsettling realization for Archer that there was a broken part of Lana. A part that she wasn’t ready to fix, or to even take the first step towards fixing by sharing. A broken part that planted a seed of doubt in Archer about he and Lana’s relationship. And Archer wasn’t sure if he could or should ignore it.

what hurts the most

"But I know if I could do it over, I would trade. Give away all the words that I saved in my heart, that I left unspoken."

Sometimes he felt stupid. Not like that fleeting stupidity that we all experience when we lose our keys or push the wrong button at the vending machine or even when we get to the airport too late to make a flight. Not that. Sometimes he felt really, truly stupid. Yes, sometimes he felt like the people around him, the entire world in fact, had some knowledge that he not only didn't have but didn't even know he was missing.

Today was one of those days. Scott sat on the edge of his bed unsure of what to do next. It had been ten days since Lanie broke up with him. It had taken him those full ten days to realize what must have been so obvious. More than the loneliness, the missing of her smile and hair and all that, there was this uncomfortable churn in his stomach. This disturbing pain reminding him that he had let her walk out the door without ever saying "I love you" or "I care about you". This gnawing truth that he had adored her, the way she took her work so seriously and got all doe-eyed at the sight nearly any four-legged creature and made the best Saturday morning breakfasts, and never had the consideration to tell her.

In fact, Scott was sure that's why she left him. Their final argument had been some nonsense. Some escalating dispute about him forgetting to call. But Scott remembered clearly when he and Lanie first started dating, and she had never been the type to be concerned about that. The times he had forgotten to call when he said he would, she usually wouldn't even be upset. But then some other thing would occur, some moment that Scott could see so clearly now when she had made her feelings for him clear and he had failed to reciprocate. Those times were when the sudden "you never call when you say you will" argument would begin. That final argument had really been no different than the rest except he assumed she was tired of waiting and hoping for something that seemed to never be coming. And so she ended it.

Scott sat there. On that bed that she had shared with him on so many nights. He couldn't imagine that it would make much of a difference to tell her now. To tell her how he cared, how wonderful she was, and how undeserving he had been. But he called anyway and, as expected, the voicemail suddenly kicked in after one ring. After the beep he simply said "Next time I'll do better."

push

"She said, 'I don't know if I've ever been really loved by a hand that's touched me.'"

It was amazing that she stood there. That she existed the way she did, in that very moment, with that mind and that hair and those hands.

She stood there against that barbed wire fence and bore her soul. From those doe eyes and well-formed lips, she gave a story of tears. The men that forgot her, the women that ignored her. The way she had lived her whole life and couldn't imagine love.

This from the woman that must have been born to bring passion. From the person God seemed to have granted every gift.

I wanted to touch her. So that maybe she would feel. Wanted to hold her hand tightly, so that she could understand. I wanted her. And there was nothing greater I could imagine, nothing more I could want.

But I was young. So I just listened and wondered how she could not know.

dreaming with a broken heart

"Was she really here?"

She left this smell. Something floral, probably from her lotion. It clung to the pillows. That smell that used to be annoying. That he used to hassle her about. Now he hung tightly to the pillows. He found himself searching the couch, the closet, the bathroom, hoping that a trace of the smell still existed.

But he always found solace in the pillows. He would lay down in the bed. On his side. He would curl up next to one of the pillows, close his eyes, and see her. Curled up on the bed with a magazine. Putting on make-up in the mirror. Changing her clothes seven times before picking an outfit. And then changing again.

And he would open his eyes sometimes fully expecting to see her right where he had imagined. Her, in her long-legged, flashy smile glory. But she would be gone. And all that was left was the lingering smell on her pillow.

"Is she standing in my room?"

miss you much

"I'm not the kind of girl who likes to be alone."

Annika had this boyfriend. Neil. They met at a club one night and instantly hit it off. They exchanged numbers and the rest, as they say, is history. The two get along great, have a lot in common, and really care about each other.

Enter problem. Annika lives in Charlotte. Neil lives in Boston.

Annika adores Neil, but six months into the relationship and she already knows its not for her. She likes to cuddle on the couch. She wants spontaneous dates. She needs someone to be there in the flesh. Not a million miles away on a phone.

But Annika can't bear to break Neil's heart. And so she let's the relationship linger on... and starts to feel a resentment and bitterness. She acts against these feelings by going out. She begins dating again.

Then one day there's a picture of Annika. With this guy Elijah. All cuddled up on a couch at her favorite lounge. A picture on Facebook. A picture that broke Neil's heart.

crush

"Love hurts so much more than it seems."

Jamie fell in love with a man five years ago. They did all the things that a couple does. They went on dates. They met each others families. They went on vacation together. Jamie loved that man but always felt that something was off. He didn't really share enough and he was reluctantly intimate sometimes. Last night he proposed and she said no. How could she marry someone when her gut told her not to? But she does love that man.

Terry had a best friend he had known since high school. They knew each others life stories. He loved her and only wanted her happiness. He had watched her suffer through three abusive relationships in the past ten years. He talked to her about them over and over again, urging her to end the relationships. She would, but then she would start dating another abusive man. Last night, Terry walked away. How could he support this self-destructive behavior? But he still loves her.

Crecia and her mother were always very close. Crecia thought of her mom as her confidant, counselor, and protector. Last night, Crecia found out that her mom has Stage 4 cancer, and the doctors estimated she had about eight weeks left. How can she survive this world without her mommy? She needs her love.

lions, tigers, and bears

"Just 'cause I love you and you love me, it doesn't mean that we are meant to be."

Love. It sounds simple. Two people meet, fall madly in love and get married. However nothing could be more difficult. And the love isn't enough.

Love alone cannot sustain a marriage, or a relationship. Things occur that cannot be forgiven. Goals and ambition differ. Anxiety or lust force the relationship too fast. There are a million ways.

Love is not enough. Ask anyone who has been divorced. Ask the ones that broke up with their high school sweethearts. Ask anyone whose been cheated on. Love was there, and could still be there, but relying solely on that let them down.

bust your windows

"You broke my heart so I broke your car. You caused me pain so I did the same."

Its not about destruction. Its not about jealousy or rage. Its pain. The girls (and yes, sometimes guys) feel pain and react. Often irrationally. Its not always the car. It can be golf clubs, sneakers, music collections, whatever is cherished most.

Its pain. How dare you walk around when I can barely get out of bed? How can you date while I cry into my pillow at night? How do you walk away when I'm begging you to stay? Its unfair for one person to suffer alone. So they cause pain. It may not be the pain they feel but its pain they caused, even if fleeting. And at the breaking point any pain caused is a victory.

lesson learned

"Falling down ain't falling down if you don't cry when you hit the floor."

The picture still looked the same. A happy couple, holding hands, beaming at each other. For a second she thought she should display it somewhere just because those two people looked so happy. But everything had changed now so she couldn't do that.

It had been nearly two months since he moved out. It was quiet. She didn't protest and he didn't explain. She just came home one day and found him packing his bags. He left a message on the answering machine the next day. She still hadn't listened to it. Instead, she moved on. She put away anything left of his or that reminded her of him. She put it in a box. She mailed it to his sister. She learned how to cook for one again. She never forgot to take out the trash. She went out with friends and laughed.

But today she couldn't ignore it. There he was staring her in the face. There they were. Happy. In love. She clutched this picture she found. She found it stuck in her favorite book but she knew he had put it there. Put it there for this exact moment. Almost in a daze she went to the den, to the answering machine.

As he talked, tears started rolling. She wanted to sit on the couch but those extra three feet seemed so far away. So she sunk down right there. Behind her couch, hands grasping desperately at the hardwood floors. There was nothing to hold onto and she cried.

one more try

"So I don't want to learn to touch you, hold you, think that you're mine. Because there ain't no joy for an uptown boy whose teacher has told him goodbye."

Sometimes its a shame you can't unlearn things. Can't unsee nightmares, can't unfeel heartbreak. And love is one of those things you can't undo. No matter what happens, how relationships grow and change and dissipaten there are memories that remain firm. These tidbits of love that stay. Memories of beautiful moments. And no matter how much you may want to forget, to not love or miss someone, there are always fragments that remain. You can't unlearn the strength of a touch, the softness of skin, the fragrance of hair, the beginnings of a smile. And the knowledge of that is terrifying enough to dim the joy and beauty of love, and to make the effort unworthy.