Don’t want to rhyme melodies of sad words and bring out tears through the strokes of my pen. I have lived a beautiful life one vibrant of colors, laughter, and stories that will be etched forever in the memories that I hold in my treasure chest. Yet, in attempts to not seem weak I have hidden the fact that submitted my heart and being to love, loss, and hurt passions that was presented to me through my career, a man, and even myself. And I found myself hiding attempting not to be another black woman with a “failed relationship”. It seems that is the new stigma, one I run from…how I can’t “keep a man”.

Shouldn’t I aspire to have the family portrait posted upon the mantle of a burning fireplace in a home with 2.5 bathrooms and a white picket fence? I thought I did. Isn’t that the checklist that is prescribed to us? And we seem to turn our noses up at women who are single and think to ourselves…”What is wrong with them?” The fact that I choose happiness and the pursuit of smiles over the agony of fighting towards a prescribed purpose has nothing to do with my abilities or capabilities. I’m not a hater, I love it for you. I speak joy and blessing to all who have the mantle engraved photo. It’s not the driving force of my energy, for me.

So I am free now to admit that I was in love. I was, I was in a place where I didn’t allow limits and boundaries to fall into place on how to love, what to give, and I openly exposed my heart. And in this past I have, I shouldn’t regret it or him, or turn bitter against the world. My relationship didn’t fall into place for a life-long commitment I dreamed of with him. He didn’t listen to how we can make it work. He chose his own path. And I could of easily fallen into the next phase of searching for what he didn’t give me, finding my soul mate, or even sitting around martini tables talking about Tyler Perry movies and men with girlfriends who carry the wounds of similar stories. In fact, I had already packed my bags and was knocking on the door of becoming a woman searching for love, listening to Steve Harvey and watching movies taking furious notes on “How to Love a Man”.

I was getting lost in an internal bliss that was knocking on the door of a black hole. In this black hole, I was a victim who needed to be saved. I was the girl with all the potential, but not the prize. With the status but steadily single. I had to stop and say what is it that I really wanted for myself?

I might have wanted the mantle family portrait, but that portrait is NOT a definition. It is a blessing, yet so is packing your bags and going hiking in Thailand for a week. So is sitting at home and watching Law & Order marathon on a rainy day. If we look at every single moment that we get as the blessing it is we are all successful and exactly where God’s plan puts us. We don’t have to chase after images and expectations, we only must be prepared to create our own.

There is nothing wrong with being a single woman. There is something wrong with being alone. Lonely, loathing, wanting, begging, life is simple and it is ours…so since that is the only criterian that we HAVE to submit to, learn to love and live within it. Don’t judge yourself by other’s standards, create your own. How dare you tell God that with this life he gave you, you spent your time wanting for things and wasted it holding on to the past and praying for a future. Life is meant to be lived and that is an action verb. Get up and come past your tears into a paradise designed by you. Fall down, get up, be love, experience passion, smile more, scream loud, dance free, run abundantly, but whatever it is find your verb and live it to the fullest.

Tearstains and heartbreak trace the handwriting you hold on my heart

Never thought I would feel this alone again, but now I get this part

When my world was handed to me with you and a crystal glass

I never thought I would question if this was meant to last

But you can’t create a vision that isn’t shared

And you can’t beg to someone who doesn’t want you there

And although my heart feels like it stopped and won’t heal

I won’t deny that I loved who you were and I believed it to be real

I was committed to the future even with arguments and pain

But I am not committed to living a lie and living in vain

So I cry myself to sleep and let God dry my tears

And I will wake up in the morning to live out my fears

Because as much as I am willing to fight with you and love with you

It’s the with part that makes me ready to live it true

And I won’t give my love to a man who lets go of the dream he shared

Just to drive a self-induced fantasy of that only caresses what he cares

So even though tearstained pillows still linger with the scent of us

I recognized you released it and gave it up

And I go on growing hoping to escape this agony

The tragedy of you no longer sleeping next to me

i stare at white walls

blank tales that tell me nothing

they don’t scold me, mold me

but they don’t hold me

and they stare back

without judgement or scowls

nor laughter or stories

I just stare at white walls

I stare at white walls

void of the color of sunshine

or tears

Impeding anger

pain

or love

They stay blank

As I stare at white walls

I stare at white walls

That stand empty

bare, pure

pale, clean

plain, drained

And they mirror my soul

And we stare at each other

Until the sun runs aways

And the moon finds its place in the sky

And my white walls

Turn to black nights

And I still stare at  white walls