Luck Fove: Welcome To Cut Buddies Are Us
James Earl Jones once said “One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t utter.” Well that’s exactly how I felt when it came to her. Many times during our conversations I found myself wanting to say things that just wouldn’t come out. Yes ME, I was at a lost for words around her. Many times I found myself blurting out something stupid like “peanut butter taste good” or “there are ants in the microwave” only to kill myself 30 times on the inside for sounding so stupid. I tried to make her fall in love with me, and I failed miserably.
So, now she’s is my own personal tootsie roll nightmare, because everything I see looks like her to me. Every lyric of every song pertains to our situation. I sat down sipping a long island ice tea in a debate with myself more heated than any of the Obama debates this year, trying to convince myself that I did not love this woman. That this feeling that has been locked inside me since our first kiss was nothing more than a tweet on twitter from someone whose not following you, as the words she typed entered my heart like the bullets shot through Sean Bell.
Speaking of twitter, I just got an awesome blog post emailed to me by a guy named Ernest, about breaking up on twitter. One of the twerts said “I’m mad at you for not caring about how I feel this evening.” Truer words have never been spoken, or typed in this case. The woman who has been so caring these last few months, is no longer the same woman she was last month or last week for that matter.
I don’t want to paint her as the villain though, because honestly I can’t blame her, not wanting me anymore. Who wants to be with a man with so many women wanting to experience him, or at least fascinating about experiencing him. I sure know I couldn’t handle that if it was the other way around. Now I don’t think I’m all that great, obviously she doesn’t either, so I can’t blame her for not wanting anymore. I promised her I would never leave so I’ll always be available whenever she decides to call, email, text of leave a comment on my website. It’s a promise I made to myself, and I plan on keeping this one.
I have a feeling in my chest which feels exactly like heartbreak, although I know my heart is not broken. Instead of drowning my pain in Blue Magic songs, or Anthony Hamilton’s “Hard to Breathe” or “I’m A Mess” I’m listening to other classics like “I’m Trying Girls Out” by The Persuaders and “Get Money” by the Notorious BIG. Brooklyn’s Finest.
So consider this my letter to break up with the idea of love, my official declaration that sex with emotions involved is not something I’m going to experience ever again. Marriage just ain’t for me, y’all. Luck Fove. It has only hurt me in the past and never has it been good to me.
However I never had received this from sexing a jump off or just getting into one of those it’s just sex relationships. Those seem to work just fine for me. Those don’t hurt as bad at the end. The women you want to settle down with, never want to settle down. The good ones whose conversation is like winning the lottery. You know when you call someone and you hear the smile in their voice, then suddenly your whole day is better? All of your problems are washed away and your words wrestle with her words in one of those wild conversations that leaves you with a new outlook on life? Then when you think about it, you’re back to feeling like crap. It’s the equivalent of getting head, and right when you’re about to bust, someone comes along and rip your arms out of their sockets and pulls your heart from your chest and steps on it. Yeah that’s how I feel, but don’t worry I’ll be okay.
If we deny love that is given to us, if we refuse to give love because we fear pain or loss, then our lives will be empty, our loss greater.
