If you’ve loved somebody once, and the relationship doesn’t work, what happens to the love?

Does it convert into something different from love?
A muted love? A watered-down version of love?

I have to admit that for me, it’s just not that cut-and-dry. The one I used to love? Well, I mean, I don’t HATE him. I can’t even say that sometimes I don’t want to see him. Or, more honestly, want him to see me. I can’t say that seeing his image doesn’t make my heart jump a little. I can’t say that I don’t wonder if we could have made it, in another world. But do I still LOVE him?

You know what…..?

I don’t know.

For now, somebody else’s words will do. Music is life.

I Used To Love Him
Lauryn Hill feat. Mary J. Blige                                                    

As I look at what I’ve done
The type of life that I’ve lived
How many things I pray the Father will forgive
One situation involved a young man
He was the ocean
And I was the sand
He stole my heart
Like a thief in the night
Dulled my senses
And blurried my sight

I used to love him, now I don’t
I used to love him, but now I don’t

I chose a road of passion and pain
Sacrified too much and waited in vain
Gave up my power
Ceased being queen
Addicted to love like the drug of fiend

Torn and confused, wasted and used
Reached a crossroad, which path would I choose?
Stuck and frustrated, I waited, debated
For something to happened that just wasn’t fated
Thought what I wanted was something I needed
When momma said no then I just shoulda heeded
Misled I bled til the poison was gone
And out of the darkness arrived the sweet dawn

I used to love him, now I don’t
I used to love him, but now I don’t

Father, you saved me
And You showed me that life
Was much more than being some foolish man’s wife
Showed me that love was respect and devotion
Greater than planets, and deeper than any ocean
See my soul was weary
But now it’s replenished
Content because that part of my life is finished

I see him sometimes and the look in his eye
Is one of a man who’s lost treasures untold
But my heart is gone, see I took back my soul
And totally let my Creator control
The life which was his — to begin with

I used to love him
Now I don’t

Somebody asked me the other day what my favorite things are…I sorta couldn’t answer articulately. So, of course, I’ve thought about it and decided to end my weeks-long blogging sabbatical by publishing my list:

1. my grandmother’s warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream melting on top
2. my mother’s spaghetti
3. ice, cold Diet Pepsi
4. the Esther story, the David story, the Paul story (I believe that girls rule, underdogs win,  and that checkered pasts don’t trump revolutionary futures)
5. a good book (this really should be my number 1)
6. anything by candlelight
7. good music (classical, jazz, P&W, motown, stevie, donny, marvin, sam, luther, sarah, coltrane, miles, bach, vivaldi….)
8. love songs
9. naughty songs (notice this is NOT the same as raunchy or nasty)
10. looks that communicate everything
11. tulips
12. toddlers who smile at me
13. gmail
14. Spring and Autumn
15. black, fast cars
16. singing at the top of my lungs in the shower or in my car
17. TV shows that make me think (Frasier, the Golden Girls, Suze Orman, The Big Idea, Forensic Files)
18. people that can always make me laugh or piss me off (that means I care enough to get emotional)
19. GAP clothes
20. friendships where we can just pick up where we left off, no matter how much time has passed
21. the feeling i have right after getting my hair done
22. feeling like i’m the prettiest girl in the room
23. friendships where we can just talk about anything for long periods of time
24. friendships were we can just be silent together for long periods of time
25. metaphors and symbolism
26. beautiful architectural spaces
27. feeling like i’ve taught somebody something
28. ministry (but not church)
29. the library
30. finding money in my jeans pockets

 What are your favorite things?

So last night I stopped at the gas station after choir rehearsal, and as I was pumping my gas I was approached by two Southern Black men, one about my age and one about 45 years old. They were being flirty and so, hell, I flirted back.

Then the younger guy gets around to, “So are you married?”

Since this is a step-up from “where yo’ man at?”, I responded, “No.”

He asked, “Boyfriend?” I said again, “No.”

He was like, “So, what? I mean, you must be single by choice.”

I stuttered, “Well…um…uh…er…I…”

He didn’t notice that I was stuttering and proceeded to say how beautiful I am and how I should give him my number.

My digression: What the hell is single by choice?

Are relationships so dime-a-dozen that it’s now baffling to meet a single woman?
Do men really think this way? That women choose to be single?

No one ever says to a single man, “Oh, are you single by choice?” Statistically, shouldn’t that question more apply to men? I assume men have…well…more options, right?

I think men really think since they’re thinking about women all the time (don’t EEEEVEN lie), we must be getting approached all the time. Well, I know I ain’t.

I think the last time I went on a third date with a man – cuz everybody deserves a second chance unless I fell asleep or felt physically nauseous/in danger – W. was in his first term.

I can hear you now….”But women are so damn indep-EN-dent nowadays. They CHOOSE not to have a man.”

I choose not to have a man just like I’d choose to cut out my vocal cords.

Yeah, I got standards and all that, and I’m empowered enough to know when to buy more batteries, but I’d be a fool to deny myself a suitor worth my attention.

Maybe I need a better come hither look…

I’m single. Just because.

 Or kinda should…

 Can we?

Super Tuesday: February 5, 2008

or at the very least, smart discretion…

Native Detroiters all over the country are probably aware of the snafu our good Mayor Kwame has gotten himself into. I have much to say about it, but not right now. lol.

It’s been a long two days for me, so, to be continued…

*EDIT*

So last night, I watched the video of Kwame’s “apology” to his wife, his sons, and the city of Detroit. I felt like it was Maury, Detroit-style.

I’m so disappointed by all of this. I can’t say I’m wholly shocked and appalled at the affair — the racy text messages, the secret rendezvous…this stuff is almost like a foregone conclusion nowadays. I am disappointed because apparently Kwame forgot that old adage that rings down through the corridors of most young, Black minds, as our mothers warned us ’cause their mamas warned them:

You gotta do twice as much to get half as far.

Kwame, it ain’t fair, is it?
It ain’t fair that you gotta represent Black folk.
And Black politicians.
And Black men.
And Black husbands.
And Black fathers.
And Black husband-father-politicians.

See, I’m not getting it twisted. Just ’cause we’ve been arrivin’ doesn’t mean the standard has stayed the same. The further Black folks achieve, the further we have to go, because this journey toward societal status in America almost like chasing a moving target.

So, no, Kwame didn’t snort coke a la Marion. But he should have understood that he needed to be perfect. He needed to get it right, the first (three) times. He needed to be pristine. The standard jump-off/drug use/foot-in-mouth/bad call ”mistake” just doesn’t fly when you’re black. Ask Jesse. Ask Cosby. Ask Vick. It’s just not the same for us.

I know that’s a whole lot of pressure for a 30-something year-old PK (Politician’s Kid). But Kwame should have known. When he looked into his 3 boys’ eyes, he should have known. What example does he set for them? Why must I now defend another Black man to folks who say, see, tol’ you so? How do I tell my students to aspire to become powerful leaders when even not-so-absolute power is corrupting us absolutely?

Sigh.

Do you have any experiences of having to do better than the others? About being closely, unfairly scrutinized?

I was inspired today by a movie title I saw on Lifetime:

19 Things To Do Before I’m 30

1. Help stimulate $1million in strategic, benevolent investment by Black families. 
2. Teach a Sunday School class.
3. Climb a rock wall. (I’m deathly afraid of heights, so hey, I gotta start small.)
4. Be a published author.
5. Appear on TV.
6. Cook dinner for Thanksgiving or Christmas for my family (you ain’t met my family or had my grandmother’s cookin’…)
7. Learn to accept (and believe) compliments.
8. Own stock in a publicly-traded company.
9. Learn to play my favorite songs on the piano (it’d be good to be able to sing them WHILE I play too..)
10. Design the interior of my own house.
11. Mentor somebody. (although some may say I’m doing that now, I want to be more deliberate about it.)
12. Get this ‘love thing’ right.
13. Stop drinking so much damn soda! (aka drink 8 cups of water daily)
14. Pay those nice folks at Penn off.
15. Go back to Ghana and visit the Holy Land.
16. Forgive the folks I really haven’t forgiven yet.
17. Ask for forgiveness from the folks I still deny hurting.
18. Actually jump rope double-dutch instead of always bein’ the ‘turner’.
19. RELAX enough to get all the way there every time.

Got any more suggestions for me?

Or got a list of your own? Post it!

16 Things You Might Not Know About Me:

1. I was born 3 months premature. I’ve always been a little impatient.
2. I try to check out 2 new books from the library every week.
3. I am just like my mother.
4. I am nothing like my mother.
5. I’m a big, unapologetic nerd.
6. I played point guard on my school’s basketball team until the end of 9th grade. Don’t underestimate my jump shot.
7. I secretly fantasize about being a diva vocalist.
8. It’s written all over my face, ok?
9. I hate being misunderstood.
10. Can’t I be short AND have long legs?
11. I am down-to-earth.
12. I sometimes have a superiority complex.
13. I’m an ‘all-or-nothing’ kinda girl. But that doesn’t mean I won’t take ‘some’ or ‘a little’ when I’m feelin’ needy.
14. I hate that I’ve gained so much weight. And now I know what “that look” is  — you know when everybody’s thinking ‘Whooo, she’s gained weight!’ but not really SAYING it?
15. I’m a church girl.
16. I am SO NOT a church girl.

Wanna tell me somethin’ about yourself?

1. I’m getting a little rusty and need to just write more.
2. I’ve heard blogging is cathartic.
3. I’m an entrepreneur trying to make a name for ma’self.

I’m a beginner, but let’s hope I can blog every day. Til tomorrow!