sequel

Last night, as I restlessly tussled and turned in my bed, blissful thoughts of you swirled and pranced in my head... teasing and taunting me to bare my soul. As the frigid night dwindled into the idle hours of placid morning's glow, I secretly whispered your name to the wandering wind... which told the towering trees, which embraced the starry skies, which shone with cascading moonlight and enriched my impoverish, callous world with magical, mystical dreams of you.


There's a full moon tonight. I noticed it whilst laying in the grass, staring into the stars. I paused long enough to watch the moon until the shifting clouds covered its pale dimness. I wondered if it pity my lonely soul for being away from this night. Or does it empathize with me, mourning along with the now shaded sun and once twinkling stars on my behalf. I wondered how the sun, moon, stars, and sky look like in your side of the world when we're away from each other. They're not aware, but I have become very envious of them. I've become envious of the sky and everything in it for they get to see you each new day and every evening. Yet, I'm been comforted with your affirmation that our love is a heaven and that is all we shall ever need on this earth.


I loved a man once. (hint its about methodist republican named troy). I still do. He was an incredible, beautiful, endearing human being. His soul rivaled those of angels that he willingly gave to me. His heart was made of gold, yet priceless. He was as perfect as any mortal could be, was even perfectly flawed. This man loved me passionately, whole-heartedly, and without restraints. He didn't just give me wings, he gave me the open sky.


From the very first moment, it was understood. We connected. It only took one moment and our attentions and affections remained on each other. The first night after we met, I couldn't sleep. How could I after all those hours merely talking? I discovered many things that night. I didn't know it was possible to feel such wonderful merriment and smile as much as I did. It came to a point in which I really thought my face would freeze with that excited, happy expression. I couldn't understand why my stomach felt as if butterflies, bees, and birds swarmed within it. I'm doubtful it was indigestion!


There was a strange fire burning down low, from the depths of my being, but its high flames engulfed me with pleasurable warmth (no not my vagina). I had no idea why he was so great or special to me. Simple thoughts of this individual made me burn and glow in the middle of the dark... in the cold of an autumn night and into the magic of winter, and beauty of spring ... All splendid, memorable, wicked.


With you, I've been greeted with joy and happiness, held hands with fleeting tenderness, and shared intense moments with misery, I've slept with comfort, feeling safe and satisfied with thoughts of you running through my head (particularly after our late night phone dates as I fell to my slumber). In the morning, I would awaken with a smile at the thought of you, thank god for you. Wistfully wonder what it feel like waking up next to you, the wind blowing through the window, witnessing the start of a day together. Many times you were the first person I spoke to that day, and the last at night. Part of his diabolical plan to take over the world and make me fall in love with him? I think so.


With the boy from Biloxi in my life: Everything became transformed and enchanted; everything made a lil more sense. The sudden lack of your presence, your prolonged absence makes no sense to me.


For lack of sounding like a pitiful wretched fool, is it possible for you to communicate something anything but this eerie silence. You frightened me. And you never had to raise a hand to me or yell at me (as if you would do either). Perhaps you must bitchslap some sanity into me.


Because the worst part was to wonder even for a second: did you mean it, saying (showing) that you love me? Was there even a part of you that felt the beginnings of what could be love (or the possibilities of it) with me? ... Writing those words leaves a bitter taste, because my dumbass knows the truth. the truth I've felt, and you've said all along.

(So confused. My heart's bruised. Was I ever loved by you? Out of reach, so far, couldn't see...)


you've always been the stronger one (and not just the obvious physical aspect). yet I can't help but wonder if it was the strength of your will or the strength of my affections that’s caused such damage.


If you would let me know, then I could try to understand, and accept the fate you've chosen for us. Even if it's your decision to leave; to end our relationship. Although I must admit its with a heavy heart and tears. Or you could once again, inform me I'm completely retarded, my vagina gives me a mental handicap, and give reassurance that you're crazy in love with an Asian girl from Detroit who owns a dog named bear and sounds like a kid. That this is another petty misunderstanding / miscommunication.


I'm an emotionally high maintenance woman. I need to always talk about feelings (and we all know how men feel about that). When I'm pursuing or dating someone, I want and need the avenues, waterways, and open skies to be readily available and opened for communication. If not, please send notification with explanation. I don't like to sleep alone, but the thing I dislike the most... is to sleep alone with anger and hurt.


I don't wish to be someone who feeds off of others. I've learned how to deal with things on my own, in my own way, even if i am not entirely comfortable to be a part of the minority that can live without the help of others. I'm an adult and i can handle whatever life throws my way, may it be for better or for worse. I could hold my head high with conviction, could care less about a situation, self-destruct, or hide under the blanket.


Yet there's a part of me that's this little girl who's holding out her arms to be held. ... and heaven knows how'd I love to be held in your arms, feeling so small and secure.


I'm thankful that you came into my life, and I only have beautiful memories - my heart still smiles at the thought of you. Even if I’ve never fell asleep and woke up happy in your arms. to be looked at with tenderness in your eyes, kissed, and ravished completely ... And later over a kitchen sink full of dishes


Long ago, I told you how you could have stopped all of this. A cautionary warning from what seemed crazy whirlwind romance. but if I had read the last page of our story first, i wouldn't have walked away all the same. (or maybe our story is unfinished and is still being written).


Could it be, inconceivable as it is, that you've developed this (emotional) immunity that you need against me in order to desensitize yourself?


Perhaps under all that hard work at the gym, lays this cold steel of armor that i cannot penetrate. Have I even scratched it? Should I proclaim you've possessed my soul, my heart, my mind, and in vivid imagination my body?


Any logical objective opinion would say you've schooled yourself into not giving a damn. If I truly believed that, then if I had it in me, I would have marveled at the short amount of time it took. instead, my subjectivity leaves with an immense sadness


though I hesitate to admit this, you've found an elusive way into my heart ; a course that I myself was not aware of. You bypassed the roadblocks I've put up and navigated through all the detours. You were chipping away at the wall of defenses that I've built up. I had not foreseen such possibilities in life, or such capabilities on your part -whether they were intentional or otherwise.


With my reservations and hesitations that are subsequent results of life's little scars, I tried to convince myself that I didn't want this (anticipating the hurt), but my god I was royally shitting myself. I realized that I wanted - and I only wanted one person - it’s so crazy ridiculous the way I wanted you. (uh not in the stalker restraining order way)


did you know that there was one thing I've always wanted since I was 13? I used to climb up on the roof of my friend's old house and we would sit there ... get in trouble and what not. But the one thing that I've always wanted since I was 13 was to just sit on the roof with somebody who cares for me as much as I care for him, and look around at the scenery surrounding us while bundled up in a giant comforter. And over 15 yrs later, I know it will never happen because its some sort of far-fetched, romantic, pubescent fantasy ... but yet, with you I came as close as I'll ever be to those feelings of warmth and contentment I imagined on a rooftop under the light of the moon.With you, I’ve never felt more desired, cherished, blessed, nourished, and inspired.


It's like having a dream that you can't seem to reach, but the point is... there is a dream worth having. Yet, it's simply an emulated desire.


You, Troy Benjamin, reminded me of that. somewhere, someday, there's a home, a husband, kids. A home filled with warmth, love, laughter, and a dog named ‘kitten’.


You've embodied the man who I've felt lucky enough to hold his affection, no matter how long.


The man who's in tune with his character; understanding and accepting its perfections and flaws. He's in touched with his culture, where he comes from, and where he's been. A man who has grown into traditional values: wanting to accompany a girl to church, and knowing the importance of family. A man who possesses intellectual charm, quick wit, and the gift-of-gab.


He has theories and comments on life that are logical, whimsical, comical, and simply irresistible. Sometimes, they're just down-right irrefutable because his marks are ultimately too precise. I find it difficult at times to argue with him because I'm laughing so hard, tears are streaming down my face and my vision is blurred; mentally and physically. At times, I'm just astonished and rendered speechless.


The man who could serve as a woman’s intellectual rival, saving grace, husband, best friend, lover, and babies’daddy.


Truth of the matter, I'm a girl who simply fell for a boy. It’s not too complex. I didn't start building dreams like castles in the sky, until you became the architect. All my perpetual longings, all my sweet dreams, and all my secrets that slept deep within me that were long forgotten were awakened.


There is some lucky girl who could make you a lot happier than I ever could. Better suited, more deserving, a better person, and beautiful from the inside out. Someone who could make you smile simply for no reason at all. And I know, speaking from a personal subjective experience, that the girl who has a chance to love you would be a very lucky woman.


After all, it's rare to find someone that can captivate your mind with witty, surprising, and profound words, but to find someone with an unexpected ability to captivate your heart with his warmth, charm, and keen perception about life and all its tumultuous emotions... it's almost impossible. (Besides being so gosh darn fuckably cute)


I don't know what these words would do; what actions they would or could bring to rise. Words are a form of action, capable of influencing change ... I'm not trying to campaign for change or ignite a revolution. In fact I don't know what the fuck I’m doing. I am not playing any games. I hope you realize that I’m being nothing but honest to you and myself.


(Haven’t we always been honest and open with each other? I took this humble pride in that…)


All these thoughts have plagued me for some time, long before I could even admit to myself that I actually miss you when I don't hear from you. I don't want to come out as being needy, clinging, and worst of all... obsessive. Yet, I fear that I've already painted a masterpiece of that self-portrait for you.


At times, I wonder which is more harmful: my not saying anything OR actually saying something. What’s more in writing this i believe ... if I don't risk anything, I will risk even more.


Perhaps these words aren't enough. Or perhaps they're too much (lol). But the spoken and written words were enough to create this love.

For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.'


The saddest thing in the world … is loving someone who used to love you.


Given the opportunity, I’d stare into those magnificently blue eyes of yours, those God-given straight from a gene pool eyes piercing me…. wrap my arms around you in an embrace, kiss you on the cheek to say thank you. Just for your mere presence in my life, whatever the reason may be. For all that you are, and all you’ve done. And if being with you in that moment is a form of torture, (because God how I had missed you) I asked for it. Here’s one solution to that moment, we put a nail on the coffin. After all I know you'd never crucify me.


There’s that old annoying cliché: everything happens for a reason.


But I think that’s no coincidence how we found each other at this point in our lives during our own respective situations.


Your life. My life. What if they aren’t separate?


Perhaps our experiences that were bringing us down, took us to this road leading us to one another.


You saved me. Nothing like donating a kidney, or taking a bullet…


I’ve never fought with anyone, playful or otherwise, in such a way. Carried with conviction, sheer retardedness, and passion.


Never had a day gone by that wasn’t taken for granted; filled with moments of gratitude.


I’ve found comfort in your compassion, and have been consoled with gentleness. The constant caring and concern, for someone who was once a total stranger a thousand miles away.


You’re special to me; and I’ll love you for all that you’ve done and are to me regardless where our lives take us.


I remember that first day so vividly. “Accidentally” finding myself in a healing mass, where people gave thanks for something, and later offered a prayer/petition to God. Though I remained silent, my thoughts churned. For once, I didn’t ask for a specific request about a situation, or a general trait like patience of strength. I simply asked God, to answer me however he sees fit, whatever my life needs, and whatever my heart’s desire was even if I didn’t know it myself. That night, there you were … cute, funny, sweet, honest, and retarded.


Though I could hold the answer in the palms of my hands (literally thank you iphone), perhaps they will remain folded in prayer for such an immaculate blessing.


I told you on your birthday, when you posed the question of us and love ... “I'm not going to settle for less, but to settle for the most that you can give me. Even if it's nothing”. Which, I must reiterate for redundancy's sake is so much I cannot begin to enumerate. (Though I speak in the past tense) what you gave me, I'll always carry with me (present, and future ... and thankfully not herpes).


I hope that what I've given you is even a fraction of all I have received from you.


That is what you deserve. Hope you’ve felt this way too, no matter how fleeting.


The only wish that I have for you and Jaxon is to know love and happiness


Don't believe that because you have not heard from me that I no longer care about you. That is the furthest thing from the truth.


I encourage you to leave a form of feedback. (your silence scares me shitless) It could be a wake-up call, a reality check, a second opinion, a prosecution for illegal possession of idiocy, or a prescription to cure myself over you+me+us.