I miss everything about that woman now that she’s gone. It’s amazing how a man can take so many good things for granted. I always lust for what I don’t have but then isn’t that the very definition of lust? I mean if we had it then would we yearn for it so uncontrollably?
She was the daughter of god and I was a young heathen. Never before had a woman made me feel so wretched and not one time since. In my mind I thought that she would wait for me but in reality she already had. Love happens in a flash and by the time I looked up she was happily involved with a better man. I had no get back. I lacked the confidence to fight for her or to attempt to woo her with my words because he was simply a better man. A better environment produced him and he believed in himself in a way that I never will.
When I happened upon this young lady I didn’t act like I was happy for her. I acted like I couldn’t see the ring glistening on her deep brown finger. I made no mention of her chubby cheeks and I willed myself not to notice her caressing her protruding abdomen. I forced myself to flirt with her just like I did in the days of old but I believe I may have smiled too hard and licked my lips one too many times to be convincing. I told her I was gone holler at her, but of course I never have.
November 16, 2011
I once dated a woman who liked to wear a brown dress with the words MISS UNDERSTOOD written in bold white letters across the front. She was a really cute young lady; really provocative, and fast in her ways. She irritated me but she inspired me as well. I only got to hang out with her two times before our lives blew us in different directions. I think about her from time to time. Every now and then I Google her name to see what she’s been up to; what new art she has made, how she’s wearing her hair, and to check out the latest degree she’s working on.
This girl was a real strange kind of beautiful. She was the kind I was never able to figure out. I am convinced that if I would have dated her consistently from then all the way until now, she would still be a sensual puzzle that I could never quite put together. But whatever we had fizzled out and it fizzled out quickly. I know for a fact she never thinks about me. It always feels slightly uncomfortable to know that someone has impressed upon your life 1,000 times more than you have impressed upon theirs. It’s like that awkward moment when you see someone from your past and you are excited to see them, only to discover that they either don’t remember you or don’t really care that you’re alive. Then you wish that you hadn’t even said anything at all.
I once saw the young lady a few years after I met her walking toward a BART station in Berkeley, CA. She didn’t say hello to me. I wonder if she ever got a chance to read these words would she speak to me then.