As teenagers we did not talk. He was quite and shy around me. I was arrogant and only attracted to the guy flexing his power.

He came over last week. His thick lips demanded more attention than his hazel eyes. His toupee skin could have been baked an extra 30mins but his muscles and masculinity were dominant no matter his skin tone. His 6'1 stature was no longer quite and shy. He walked thru my door like he was going to the gym to put in work. Nonchalant with swag looked really good on him. I hadn't seen it before then so I figured it was transient. Fleeting facades never interested me so it was easy to overlook the tension. For he would always be the lame in the corner who didn't talk me as kids.

I woke up to his chiseled arms around my neck and my face planted on his chest. I wiped the drool from the corner of mouth but couldn't dry the moisture between my legs. The whole weekend was innocent and pure so how was his body singing sweet nothings to mine? Like a cat in heat... I rubbed my body on his, I caressed every part in arms length, I kissed his neck and nibbled on his ear. Not sure why or how the need to have him came into my mind. I dove in. I didn't care about rejection, about what if, or about safety. I was in a dangerous position. I feasted on all I saw for everything was mine for the taking.

Several days later...
Me: "Yo I'm still shocked you ain't Jones'ing"
Him: "I was worried about you making it to work"
Me: "I need to get my pussy game up. Lol you ain' even sprung. That's a first for me"
Him: "Should I be sweatin you?? You don't know what you want. If you said you wanted me then I would be sweatin. But you said you just wanted to play. I think your full of shit sometimes lol 😁
Me:" If you liked the goods you would be sweatin me no matter what I wanted.
Him:" You are not mine so I'm not setting no expectations. If you said the pussy was mine it would be a different story. But it's not so your full of shit. Boys chase after wet dreams. Men make their woman wet in there dreams when there not around. #icebergslim

It might be September, it might be Thanksgiving, it might be the holidays... But here I am again. Trying not to cry, not to think of him, not to think too much into life. The motivation is gone.

Maybe it's because he said, "I'll see you later" and didn't mean it. He knew he was not coming back.

He reverted back to 10years old. His voice pubescent and soft, his face fearful, and his lips saying, "I don't want God to take you away from me."
Me: why would He break us apart?
Him: I'm a sinner
Me: We all are. He forgives those who ask for it
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But does he?! Is my fiancee in heaven or hell? Will mental instability be a health factor considered at those Pearly Gates? Why do I care? He made is own decision.
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Fuck. I hate thinking about this shit. I hate not knowing. I just want to escape. I should go travel the world.

Time has run out. The sand in the hour glass has fallen. My heart shattered, my brain fried, my soul empty... I have to escape. I have to leave too.

Voyage for the void

Vacant Victoria 

Vapors

A couple of months ago, he woke me out of my sleep. Tears rolling down my eyes but I was emotionally flat. Why am I crying for someone who didnt want to be with me? He left me. Why did he ask for my hand in marriage? He knew he would leave. Why didn't he say anything? Where's my fuckin good bye note?

We each asked our best friends to be our witnesses at the courthouse. My girl, my ride or die, said "fuck yeah, I'll be there." She didnt ask questions about who, what, when, where. She's down for whatever happens. His best friend, on the other, cried. He teared up like a fuckin baby and asked why we are rushing. He ran up the stairs to his room where my fiance would follow. After 15mins of talking to his best friend, my fiance returned to me and said "will you still marry me on Saturday?" Of course I would with a huge smile on my face. I finally found a God fearing man that was ready for a commitment, a life partner and love. How could I turn him down? He was God sent. When I woke up in his arms I was amazed at how great it felt, like it was some how different than the other nights waking up beside him. I left for work around 6am. He killed himself around 9am.

I was a teenager then. I believed in love. My heart was so big I look past the exterior and the extra curricular. When it was just you and I the moonlight paved a path that led us to eternity. We traveled until dawn. Distractions glowed with the kiss of the sun pulling us apart. I let go of your hand so we both could experience something new. I didnt mind missing you. I didn't mind waiting. I didn't mind watching you from afar because I always knew you would come back.

Its 1am. Thinking back, I wonder if I should have sat with him. It was the end our first European trip together. I wanted to upgrage my view, my seat, the service and enjoy the benefits of working hard. Is it better to be the ant who stored up for a rainy day? What if your life stopped days, weeks or even years before the rainy day. Then what? Was all your hard work pointless? Maybe thats why some communities celebrate your death with a Homecoming. Because thats where your reward is. You may not have experienced worldly pleasures but your servitude in dedication, honor and understanding will be given to you in the afterlife. Your belief in hope alone was intoxicating. It gave me double vision, where I could see twice as far into my future with you. I started to see forever. I started to see us. But where did I go? Ive lost sight of myself. I wanted to feel alive. I wanted to enjoy luxury, to indulge but not tooverdose. I saw nothing wrong with it. So for that last leg of our trip you watched me feast on champagne, laydown flat and watch endless movies from behind the curtain.