32B's Blog

…where I write my words

Let Him Tell It

**For Ms. Notebook (lol) who I think loves this story more than I…

Let me tell it, he has been with me for 6 months.  Let him tell it, I have been with him for 11 years.  The year was 2000. I was a nineteen year old college student who was at the end of her sophomore year.  Upstairs in my dorm room, I was putting the finishing touches on my hair and making sure my outfit was not wrinkled.  All white was the required attire.  White slacks.  White jacket.  White heels.  White pantyhose.  Pretty in white.  Rituals in a couple of hours.  I’d made it!  I’d crossed the burning sands into Zeta Land!!  It was officially official.  My phone rings, she’ll be here in about 10 minutes, meet them downstairs, bye.  I grab my keys, purse, and take the elevator down to the lobby to wait.  As I open the doors to walk into the lobby I see him.  He sees me.  Familiarity.  I smile.  He smiles.  We say hi and chit-chat.  Let me tell it, it was just an encounter.  Let him tell it, it was the beginning to a lovely story.  Our chit-chat was interrupted by her, then a blow of a horn, I suddenly remembered my plans, and we parted with a couple of good-byes.  Several encounters later but they never meant much to me.  I was in a relationship and so was he.  She stayed in my dorm on the same side a couple of floors below me.  He stayed on the other end of campus near the track which was fitting since he was Big Ten Champion in the high jump for 4 years straight.  Let me tell it, he was aight.  Let him tell it, he was a 6′ god.  Fast forward 11 years, I sit as he tells “our” story.  Most parts I vaguely remember while others I laughed at in disbelief that I had said or even done some of those things.  Back in those college years, he was not happy.  Neither was I.  We both stayed in our respective relationships and allowed them to play out.  However, during that time, I ran into him once in a while.  We had no classes together and no mutual friends other than the track girls I’d met during my 2 failed attempts to make the team.  We didn’t even run in the same circles.  But, without fail, we ran into each other every time I came back for Homecoming.  The last time was about a couple of years ago.  He was there with his former roommate/best friend.  I was with my sorors.  Let me tell it, we accidently bumped into each other in the crowd.  Let him tell it, it was divine intervention that allowed him to walk in the exact direction in which I was walking towards him.  We chit chatted.  Asked how life was going.  Laughed.  And realized he was leaving that next morning while I was leaving the following night.  We exchanged numbers.  Said our good-byes, again.

The text messages lasted for 2-3 months but life again took us on our own separate journeys until a few months ago.  Randomly, he called me out of the blue but I don’t answer numbers I don’t recognize so he left me a message.  I listened to it replaying it several times and saying the name he left out loud over and over again waiting for it to jog some memory.  Finally, the light bulb went off!  Oh, wow…it’s been like forever since we’ve talked.  My friend from around the way.  Can’t believe he still has my phone number although I have had the same number for the last 8 years almost.  I call him back.  I give a cheery hi sincerely happy to hear from him.

“How are you doing?  What’s been going on?  I can’t believe you still have my number after all this time!”

“Hey, I’ve been good, can’t complain but I actually didn’t have your number.  I had to find my 2 old cell phones, charge them up, and then search in my contacts for your number”.

(Thinking) “Who does that?!”  (Actually said out loud) “You must do that often (lol).”

“No, I only did it to get your number.”


“So, what do you want?  You called me for a reason, I assume.”

“Yes, I did.  My kids are on Spring Break soon so I wanna come see you.  I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen me and we only texted back and forth at best but I would love to see you if you are free.”

“Your kids?”

“I’m a teacher.  I don’t have any kids of my own but I’ll be on vacation for a week so I was wondering if I could drive up to see you.”

“Um, and then what?”

“Well, I’d like to take you out on a date if that’s ok with you.  I know this is out of the blue but I thought about you and realized we never went out on a date so it’s like perfect timing.”

“Actually, it’s not.  I actually have kids and they aren’t on Spring Break for another few weeks.”

“Oh ok, well if I can just see you for a few hours even that will be great.”

(Thinking) “For who?”  (Actually said out loud) “Oh, well I have to see”.

The minutes were spent recapping what we’d been doing since college.  He even reminded me of encounters we’d had that I’d completely forgot about.  During those earlier years, he had expressed his interest in me while with his girlfriend.  Since my boyfriend had recently cheated I instantly dropped him into the box of “Dogs”.  Men can’t be faithful and they are pathetic!  He says I emailed him asking if we could meet.  We met at an underground library on campus one evening.  Let me tell it, it was a way to grill him about his integrity.  Let him tell it, it was a positive sign of my character because most other women he’d “propositioned” offered their place or his.  We met, sat in a back corner, and talked.  He says I asked him question after question about why he wanted to cheat on his girlfriend, why he wanted to cheat with me, what gave him the idea that I would accept, and whether he cared even a little bit about her feelings if she ever found out.  Let me tell it, he was a hot mess of scum sitting in front of me.  Let him tell it, I was a woman who had much self-respect and even his current girlfriend would have been pleased if she’d been there to listen in.  Nothing ever came to be from that.  But, later, it almost did….

He’d cheated, again.  Devastated and emotional, we had another encounter.  This time at his apartment.  I came over knowing “it” may happen.  I didn’t care anymore.  What is faithful?  Loyalty?  Commitment?  Heartbreak?  I know what the latter is and was feeling it.  He opened the door.  I walked in.  I see 2 or 3 guys sitting in the living room one of which I recognized from TV.  Our star football player.  This must be the ultimate bachelor pad.  At least I was in the right place.  We go upstairs quickly because, after all, it was obvious I was not his girlfriend.  He sat on his bed.  I sat across at his desk.  We chit-chat.  I think we kissed eventually.  I’m not completely sure.  I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.  Door closed, I begin to talk to myself.

“You can do this.  It’s just sex.  Everyone does it without thought.  Relax.  It’ll take your mind off him.  You can get even.  Do your own dirt.  It probably won’t hurt as much anymore.  Just do it.  Isn’t that Nike? I love Nike but I’m sure their slogan is not related to sex.”

He says while I was in the bathroom, he realized what was about to happen.  He thought about how sweet of a girl I was.  How I never gave in to his previous advances even remaining friends with him without judgment.  He couldn’t do it.  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it because he’d mess up any real chance he’d ever have with me.  If ever.  He respects me too much.  He thought about that day in the lobby of my dorm when he saw me standing there in all white looking cute as a button (his words….not mine).  He couldn’t go through with it.  I came out of the bathroom ready.  I’d psyched myself up for this and I was going to do it, nervously.  I walked towards him still sitting on the bed and he said:

“Hey, you gotta go.  I have this meeting I forgot about so…”


“I have a meeting to get to.  We meet with the coaches to go over our schedule for the upcoming week but I’d forgot about it.”

“You said it was ok to come over and now you’re telling me you have a meeting??”

“I know and I’m sorry.”

He stands up, walks towards the door, opens it, and waits for me to walk through while I’m thinking “what the hell is happening?!”  We walk downstairs and I walk through the front door back to my dorm in a fog of confusion.  That was the last time we chit chatted while in college.

His Spring Break, our date didn’t happen.  He’s waited all this time…he can wait some more.  My Spring Break, it did happen.  Amazingly enough, we talked like it hadn’t been years.  We laughed.  We ate.  We talked some more.  Let me tell it, it was two friends having a fantastic time after so many years and memories.  Let him tell it, it was his chance to get what he always wanted but couldn’t have 11 years ago.  During this time, he came clean about the “meeting”.  There was never a meeting, he explained.  If he had gone through with it, in my mind, he thought I would look at him like every other trifflin man and remember that years later never ever giving him a fair chance because he had tainted his own reputation.  Would I have entertained him now?  Would I think he was a good guy?  Or would I remember him cheating on his girlfriend at the time when my boyfriend had cheated on me?  My diverted look and silence was answer enough.  Fast forward to now, he says he loves me.  I laugh.  He fumes.  Why so sensitive?  Why so pessimistic?

“You love me? (lol)”

“Yes, let me explain.  I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you in that all white.  I thought you were so cute.  Even my girlfriend noticed it because I had to explain the awkwardness in the air when she walked up and saw us talking.  I’ve thought about you ever since then but you were with someone and so was I.  This is my chance.  I think it’s divine intervention.”

“Divine intervention?”

“Yes, look up the definition.”

“I think I know the definition, thank you.”

“I know what I want.  I see a great woman in you and I’m trying not to let you get away.”


“So, do you hate or love me?”

“I definitely don’t hate you.  I like you.  But, I don’t love you”.

“You will once you trust me”.

(Thinking) “Cocky ass”.  (Actually said out loud) “Ok”.

And that is where we are right now.  Let me tell it, he has been with me for about 6 months now.  Let him tell it, I have been with him for 11 years now and this time he won’t let me go.


May 7, 2011 Posted by | Love, My Writings | 1 Comment

I Miss You

I thought about you yesterday
And a couple of days ago
Then last week sometime
And again today
It seems the further time separates you
The more my mind reminds me of you
Strange indeed
Ran across your blog yesterday
Not at all what I was searching for
Trip to Haiti, eh?
Sounds awesome!
Not good at small talk
Or just “shooting the breeze”
So I’ll just say what I came here for…
I miss you
That is an enigma
Before we met & since we departed
Conversations have not been the same
Topics have lost their flavor
Words from others are dull & stale
Discussions are no longer rich
Conversing just leaves me unsatisfied
I asked you the same question weeks ago
To which I received no response
So I decided to let things “be”
And accept things for what they “are”
But, what the hell is “be” and “are”?
Yes, I know I should stop questioning everything
But questions are how I make sense of things
How can I exercise a “be” and an “are”…
If I do not or cannot recognize them when exercised?
I’m thinking too much
And I’m pissed off
So, let me take a step back
And compose myself a little bit
Time is hardly sacred
Life is actually pretty long
No such thing as missed opportunities
I’m just looking at this glass all wrong
So, ignore the first 47 lines of this poem
Focus instead on the last one only
Here is where I will rest my head
On the strength of words spoken or written
Here is where I lie down my pride
On feelings probably better left hidden
I miss you

July 1, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , | 2 Comments


I never thought I, of all people, could kill love.  Never knew it would be my hands with its blood on them.  It started out such a beautiful summer day complete with sunshine, birds singing, and a sweet breeze that teased my skin.  By the end of the day, I was watching my love flatline before my eyes. 

My fault. 
All my fault. 

The hurt in his eyes.  The glisten of wetness reflecting off his pupils.  I looked into them and saw my reflection only. 

All because of me. 

He walks toward the door.  I jump up and run after him grabbing his arm to turn his body towards me while slamming the door closed again.  Wrong I am but determined not to let him walk away from me.  Justified he is but fighting to the wire is how I want to go.  He looks into my pleading eyes but quickly looks away.  The hurt I see kills me.  What can I say?  How can I make this right? 

I begin to speak. 
To explain. 
To apologize. 
To promise. 

Never again will this happen.  Never ever again, I promise. His face is frozen in hurt with hurt.  My words are not registering.  His mind is absorbed in my crime.  His ears refuse to hear my defense.  The jury is settled on a “guilty” verdict. 

Fear grabs me. 
“Do something!”
I yell at myself
“Think woman think!”

I take his hands in mine.  He snatches them away.  My fear intensifies as I hear us flatlining.  My heart races as I suddenly hear the steady hum of his. 

Void of life. 
Void of love.  
For me. 

“Please!” leaves my lips.  He continues to look away.  I grab his hands again and wrap them around my waist.   He stands there stoic but his hands remain where I place them.  I wrap my arms around his neck.  Then drop my hands to his chin.  I turn his face to look at me.  Only for a few seconds before he looks elsewhere.  He refuses to look at me.  Refuses to hear me.  Refuses, until now, to even touch me. 

I kiss his lips. 
No reaction. 
My eyes tear up.  

“Keep trying!” I tell myself.  I kiss his lips again.  He turns his face from me.  Tears escape me.  I hold his chin between my hands and kiss again.  His lips remain frozen. 

“You love me!”
I tell him. 
“He loves me”
I remind myself. 

I start to shake him.  I hit his chest and yell it again, “you love me!”  Tears run down my face now. 

“Try again dammit!”
I yell to myself. 

I kiss him again.  No life. 
Kiss again.  No love. 

My chest burdens from crying.  His hands drop from my waist. 

I am losing him. 

I kiss again holding my lips there longer.  Then again.  And again. Again.  Then I feel a pucker.  A loud beep.  I gasped loudly with hope.  I keep my eyes closed.  No false hope.  I kiss again.  Sure enough, he has puckered his lips.  I kiss again.  He kisses me back.  Weakly.  A kiss nevertheless.  I hold his face in my hands and kiss again. 


I rise up on my tip toes.  I hold on for dear life.  Trying to salvage it.  To breathe love for me back into his heart.  To awaken him to me once again.  His hands find their way back to my waist.  I hear another loud beep.  I exhale.  We kiss again.  He holds my waist tightly.  Another beep.  Still kissing, he kisses me back.  I feel his tongue.  Now steady beeps are heard.  I cry harder.  I keep kissing him.  He keeps kissing me. 

I am too afraid to stop. 
Fearful I will lose him again. 
That we will flatline. 

Too much fear to revive.  Too much fear to take that chance again.  I never thought I loved so much.  Never knew I would be the one fighting so hard.  I pull away.  Look into his eyes.  Anger still there.  But gone is the glisten of tears.  I have left a scar.  But love had come back. 

To think I almost lost it.

June 25, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 4 Comments

Hurt or Lie?

Close my eyes
Feel heart race
Panic sets in
Fidgeting begins
Question is asked
Silence given
Bite my lips
Dart my eyes
Reply “um…”
Silence again
Question asked again
Inhale slowly
Exhale loudly
Calm sets in
Close eyes again
Look at floor
Resistance ends
Eyes meet
Hurt or Lie?
Asking myself
Hurt or Lie?
To her, that is
Break my silence
Utter the words
Hurt ensues
So truth may prevail
Easy decision?
Easier said than done
She preferred Lie

June 22, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , | 1 Comment


that’s how I feel because I decided to open up
share a story
express a feeling
and vent some steam
only to feel stupid because you do not care
you respond as if it’s forced
what ever happened to leaning a shoulder
offering an ear
being there for a friend
as they were for you?
I guess times have changed
and although I feel stupid
that’s only a word used to mask another one
called Hurt
I feel hurt
no apologies for how I feel
what I feel
or what is going on in my life that has somehow disrupted the flow of yours
no apologies for my sorrow
my tears on your shoulder
or my voice in your ear
if I could I would take it all back
if I could I would have kept it to myself
if I could I would wish you’d taken off the mask sooner
give the Friend to someone who wants to use it
I can teach them how over time

June 9, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 2 Comments

Lost and Found

One day I lost my way
I looked up
Did not recognize any one
Felt uncomfortable in my environment
And decided to run away
They searched high and low for me
I searched high and low for me too
I searched for familiarity
Overtime they gave up their search
In time I got to the bottom of my search
All that I was searching for was already with me
I had lost my peace
My happiness
My security
My mind
When I was with them
“Ol’ poor young soul” is what I hear them say
With their candlelight vigils and prayers
I went on a search to find who I am
What I believe
Where I stand
Why I am here
How I feel
And when I shall…
Notify them that I am not lost
They think they lost me
Lost is the best place to be

June 8, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , | 1 Comment

My Hatred

I thought I knew who I was
until I looked my hatred in the face
She refers to you as Allah
while I simply call you God
I only know what her religion teaches
which differs greatly from my own
I accepted our differences humbly
but must acknowledge what seethed within
Her head-dress elicits my hatred
I desire to spit in her face
Water-boarding and inhumane torture
She deserves it all and much more than that
Inside I surprise even myself
but then I read/hear/see the bombs explode
I convince myself that my God shall win
while she is convinced that Allah has won
Jesus does not teach what I feel
nor will He ever condone my inner struggle
Tears well in my eyes as I admit this
knowing that God already knows the same
Hate never wins
Only Love prevails
But the definition of both words
differ as much as our beliefs
So, who is right and who is wrong?
How many more deaths and bombs?
Involved in a war without an end
shall mark the end of all wars
My God, in Jesus’ name, forgive me
for the death I wish upon her and her kind
It is so easy to hate and difficult to love them
impossible to try when there’s still blood on their hands
I thought I knew who I was
until I looked my hatred in the face
She refers to you as Allah
while I simply call you God

May 31, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


A mistake
Often followed by regret
But I still feel a song
Swelling from within
Dripping from my lips
Every single day
Where there ought to be
There is none
No regret
No remorse
No repentance
The only mistake
My mistake
To ever stop singing the blues

May 26, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , | 1 Comment



Constantly I explain my position and constantly I explain how I feel
I will not under any circumstances ever again and that’s that!

I am interrogated
I am ridiculed
I am pitied
I am disappointing

To everyone but myself

Am I alone in my thinking?

They accuse me of unforgiveness
But no matter how much I explain
They hold their position
and expect me to let go of mine

To not forgive is to not let go
To not free that person from their wrong towards you
To always seek and/or wish punishment
To never allow atonement when it is only fair

Those actions are no longer who I am
But I admit they once were all I was
I have forgiven and let go
But now I have simply become intolerant

Control over life and death I do not have
Control over who is in my life
I shall exercise until my death


May 24, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments


No words
Just gestures
He giggles
I chuckle
He writes letters in the air
I see nothing but his finger moving
He sighs
I shrug
He makes a heart with both hands
I nod slowly
He points to the clock on the wall
I glance at the clock on the wall
He points again at clock
I hold up 4 fingers for 4 o’clock
He shakes his head “no”
I throw up my hands and frown
He walks over to the clock
I wonder if this is in the rules
He makes a counterclockwise motion with his finger
I hold up 3 fingers, then 2, and then 1
He smiles and nods
I pat myself on my own back
He giggles
I chuckle
He rewinds time on the clock
He makes a heart with both hands
I watch him carefully
I nod understanding each gesture
He points to me
He makes a heart again
I frown confused
I point to me too
He nods his head “yes”
He walks over and pats me down
I giggle
He chuckles
“What are you doing?” I say
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to talk!” he says
“And you aren’t supposed to touch!” I say
“And you weren’t supposed to make me love you” he says
“You stole my heart some time ago”
I poke out my bottom lip
He kisses my bottom lip
I point to him
I make a heart with both hands
I point to myself
He points to his self
He makes a heart with both hands
He points to me
I melt
He smiles
No words
Just gestures

May 20, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , | Leave a comment