Speaking of Friends

I did that research on the average number of friends one might expect to have in a lifetime and ran across this article. Check it out. Sorta puts things into perspective.

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Missing Persons

Someone needs to do a study on the average number of friends a human makes, keeps and loses over the course of his/her lifetime. Maybe someone has and I just need to do my research.

This morning when I woke up after another uncomfortable night of sleep due to minor surgery I had on Monday, I rolled over out of bed to examine myself and the damage in the bathroom mirror. Battling vertigo through the night and this morning, the walk felt more like a fight to stay on an imaginary horse on a merry-go-round.

Nevertheless, I pulled myself together. Finally able to stand erect and look myself in the eyes, I realized that a particular friend who appeared in my life with no warning had disappeared in much the same way. I felt rather cheated. You know how you have a fight with someone and after the fact, you think of all these things you could have said but didn't think to say in the heat of the moment? Well, that's basically how I felt except there was no fight. I only had leftover questions about why our relationship ended so abruptly and mysteriously.

Wisdom that I've gained since landing on this planet - It's not always about you.

So, this person may have had some personal challenges. *shrugs* I get that.

Questions for all of you mysterious Missing Persons:

Where the hell are you?
Are you still alive?
Did someone shoot you?
Did you shoot yourself?
Did you get busted for drugs?
Are you at Rikers?
Are you in drug rehab?
Did someone finally check you into an insane asylum?
Did you meet Mr./Ms. Right?
Did you drive to Vegas and get married?
Are you on the run?
Did you move to Canada?

BTW, how's your mom doing? How are the kids?

Did you know that I still care about you?
Did you know that I think about you all the time?
Did you know that I miss the conversation, the laughter, the calls, the e-mails?

Oops, I'm sorry. I slipped into "me" mode there for a second.

Take care of yourself where ever you are. Be happy.

All my love,
BrooKlyn

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Such a Beautiful Disaster

Most of my close friends are guys because friendships are easier. They're not as needy as we women can sometimes be, but they can be just as messy (sticky, tricky, and lots of technical difficulties). Still, I have chosen my poison.

Yesterday, he (who shall remain nameless) and I had yet another misunderstanding. Nothing new there. We've become rather proficient at occasionally getting under one another's skin and on each other's nerves. He thinks I'm wrong. I think he's dead wrong. We both get pissed off.

Usually goes something like this.

"You're over-reacting."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not."
"How can you say that I'm not?"
"You don't mean it."
"What?!"
"You're a trip."
"Why?"
"Because you have an attitude."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"I didn't before, but now I do."
"Let's start over."
"Ok."

Some more banter from each of us trying to make our points yet again.

"We can't start over."
"Fine."

Silence for about five minutes.

"Are you mad?"
"No."

This is the point where we normally resume normal conversation and move on. But yesterday, he surprised me.

"You remind me of that song..."

Let me stop right here. Guys, if you want to get a girl's attention, tell her that she reminds you of a song.

He further clarified his statement by offering the specific lyrics he was referring to in this particular song. After listening to the song, I wanted to cry. He and I are truly platonic friends, but it was one of the sweetest things a guy (this guy in particular) has ever said to me.

This week, I'm sure we'll find something else to debate, have another misunderstanding, or just piss each other off for no real reason. But yesterday, let me tell you, I almost thought for one teeny tiny itsy bitsy split second of a moment that...

He reads this blog sometimes. Let's hope he overlooks this entry.

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My Own Special Gift - Part II

Vous m'avez convaincu qu'il était sûr de vous aimer et maintenant je ne sache pas s'arrêter.

Boy Meets Girl
When I was twelve, my best friend Lisa was the same person she is today. The most confident kid I knew. Everyone wanted to be her friend and all the boys thought she was cute. I, on the other hand, sorely lacked the confidence she had. And the boys. Let's just say they were too pre-occupied to notice :-). However, there was this one boy, Ian who wanted to be my friend. And then he wanted to be my boyfriend. He was cute and funny. Didn't take much for him to win me over. His warm heart enveloped me and made me feel not only pretty, but appreciated. At that age, having a boyfriend only meant that he called you on the phone, walked with you at lunchtime, wrote you love letters. Innocence. You can't buy it. It's priceless.

We shared a sweet, sometimes sour, on-again off-again juvenile relationship for two years before going to high school and eventually our separate ways. What happened? We were thirteen! Truth be told, we had another friend, a boy, whom I got really close to or should I say got really close to me. Ian was hurt. I knew that then and was sorry... then. As sorry as a kid that age would be for hurting her young love and dear friend.

I digress.

Today I downloaded Luther Vandross - Live at Radio City Music Hall 2003 which includes a 12 minute 49 second extended version of Superstar. The last time I heard this song I was riding with an old friend, one whom I may never see again. Hearing it today brought back memories of Egyptian musk, the sound of whispers, penetrating stares, strawberry cheesecake ice cream, a perfect view, rocking chair, easy chair, Chili's, chess, Jeopardy, Riley, a river that runs through the woods, past my home and makes my heart float.

Oh me oh my... don't wanna ... be no...fool for you baby.

I swear every time I hear that song from now on, I'll feel every thing my heart yearns for... Just so you know, I want a simple life too.

Mmph... long sigh...I'll have to pick up on this later.

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My Own Special Gift

Thanks Cole for encouraging me to share my own special gift - the ability to hurt someone so deeply that they spend 20 years plotting the perfect revenge. I didn't know I could evoke such a drastic reaction in anyone, much less someone I knew before I even had breasts.

In one of my earlier blog entries, I said that I would write about the crazy men in my life. I'd been holding out because I like men. My dad's a man. Both my brothers are men. Some of my best friends are men. I didn't want to offend anyone by implying that most men are crazy or can drive a perfectly sane woman crazy.

However, a series of recent events in my life have forced me to bring this up. Today I had an epiphany. The appointed time is now.

When I was standing in line at The Beautiful Restaurant (all of you Atlantans should know the place) during lunchtime today, there was this couple in front of me. She could have been in her late thirties, early forties. He was probably in his mid-forties. She was about 5'4" tall while he stood about 6'3". Both were very attractive. I watched as she wrapped one of her arms around his waist and he wrapped one of his around hers.

Bear with me. There is a crazy man in this story, but I want to share what sparked this rant that won't end soon.

Back to the couple... they looked so cute with their matching BlueTooth earpieces. I could tell they were into each other. Or at least she was into him. From the way she acted, they could have easily been making love only a short while before coming to the Beautiful for lunch. She couldn't keep her hands off him. She wanted him even then. She trusted him. And every time she looked at him, all her hopes and dreams were apparent in her eyes. I have to admit. They had me going.

My best friend since I was six years old gave me some wisdom that I have to pass along. When I went on and on about this guy who seemed to have it all together, she said "You know that all sounds great, but he's got one thing working against him." "What's that?" I asked. "He's a man."

Back to my couple.... In the short period of time I observed this loving couple, I had started to believe in true love again. I started believing that at the end of the day, a man and a woman could still simply love each other and make each other happy without needing anyone else. Then, the male part of this couple did something that I wasn't expecting. He turned to look at me. Just a quick glance. I smiled. As he ordered his food, he joked that he needed an additional side order of the entree because he might still be growing. I said it couldn't hurt to try. We laughed it off, but I noticed that his lady friend was slightly uncomfortable with his light banter with me. Afterwards, he gave me a couple more side glances which I tried to ignore, but I recognized as curiosity. My best friend's words instantly came to mind and once again I realized that I might have been wrong in my assessment of this seemingly loving relationship. With all the love, attention and affection he had standing right in front of him, he turned to examine his options behind him. Now this doesn't make him crazy, but it could certainly do some damage to her.

I'll break here.. obviously this story isn't finished. In my next installment, I'll offer more insight into my special gift. The perfect revenge after twenty years... damn, he's good. If I sound bitter, I'm not. Just hurt, disappointed and a tad bit cynical.

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There's This Guy

I should be mad with him. In fact, I went on and on to my best friend about how I wasn't going to answer my cell the next time he called. About how I wasn't going to e-mail him back right away, maybe not even check my e-mail for a week or two and let his messages (if there were any) sit in my in-box.

But....(long sigh), I didn't do any of that.

He wrote me. I replied the same day. He called. I didn't even check the caller ID before answering my cell. And when he said "Hello Beautiful," I forgot all of my senses and turned into a 12 yr. old lovesick girl. "Hiiiiiiiii," I answered with all the sweetness of a newborn baby's breath.

And I talked to him like I hadn't lost sleep for the past three weeks from worrying about where he was, what and how he was doing and who he was doing it with. All of my insecurities melted away with each passing second of our conversation. Not that he offered much in the way of answers for any of my speculative questions. Yet, I was pacified just by the sound of his voice.

So, yeah, there's this guy who has the ability to charm me out of my own sensible thinking. I have decided that I'm going to work on standing up to him.... just not today. Maybe not even tomorrow. Or next week. But one day. Definitely.

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Suspended...

Suspended
I hang
Arms outstretched
Shoulders separated
Palms face up
Eagles soar above
Wait for my presence
Vultures circling beneath
Expect my demise
Look to the hills
They are silent
Yet have spoken
Many times before
Can you hear
If you do not listen
Can you learn
If you do not hear
Suspended
My body
Spins on an axis
Legs dangle like ornaments
Toes pointed toward the earth
Clouds form halos
Crowning my locks
Winds howl echoes
Piercing my soul
Swaying to and fro, with and against
Past, present and future
Suspended

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A Dream

Maybe I dreamed him up... this prince.

A Dream
Mary J. Blige

Chorus:
A dream
A simple fantasy
That I wish was reality
That you come knocking at my door
And we relive this dream once more

Last night I dreamed
That you were here with me
And we were in each other's arms
It was oh so heavenly
You held me close to you
And whispered in my ear
Let's spend the night together
Sharing love beyond compare

As we danced to the melody
We had so much to share
(And the music stopped)
In a flash I was all alone
(It was just a dream)
Haunting me once again

Chorus

The day you left
You said you would return
Just when couldn't promise
That you needed some time alone
You said you'd love
And someday our love would be
I couldn't understand it
I thought we were both happy

As we danced to the melody
We had so much to share
(And the music stopped)
In a flash I was all alone
(It was just a dream)
Haunting me once again, oh a dream

Chorus

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No Matter How Small The Flame

Last night, I decided to take a long relaxing bath. I like my bath water to be nearly scolding hot, so I only turn the cold water on slightly when filling the tub. I poured a capful of lavender and chamomile bubble bath beneath the stream of running water. Then I lit a two inch candle placed in one of the many uniquely shaped candle holders that I've collected over the years. People like to give me candle holders. This particular one in the shape of a snail, was placed near the water knobs at the corner of my tub behind the shower stall. Once the tub was filled, I tested the temperature by slowly and carefully submerging one of my feet in the water. Too hot, I knew it. More cold water. I reached over the candle to turn on the cold water again. My forearm was several inches away from the small flame when I felt the fire burning me. Ouch! How could a flame so small hurt me like that? A metaphor for old love I thought.

No matter how small the flame, the fire still has the potential to burn. Careful, love, careful.

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Awaking to Love and Real Life

I was asleep. The phone rang and because I knew royalty was on the other end, I awakened with a smile, stretched and answered "hello" in a sing song voice. That's the way every girl should wake up in the morning--- feeling like a princess. Honestly, I fully expected my ladies in waiting to enter the room, serve me breakfast in bed, run down my schedule of activities for the day and hold up outfits in front of me to choose from for each event.

As we talked, occasionally he'd laugh at some of the silly girlish things that dribble off my lips whenever I know I have his full attention and I'd fall a little more into a dream state. After hanging up, I had to shake myself back to reality, drag my ass out of bed and get ready for what? You guessed it-- WORK!

All throughout the day, I thought to myself--- Damn, the life of a princess has gotten kinda hard.

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Something Sweet and Soothing

Last weekend I got really depressed. I had a misunderstanding with someone which resulted in me having several severe anxiety attacks. I thought my heart was going to explode and the tears that I normally hold back in such instances couldn't be stopped. There was no one I could call or even wanted to call.

So, I did what comes natural to most women in my situation. I went downstairs to the kitchen and fixed myself a bowl of cookies & cream. As I consumed each spoonful, my physical therapy began. I closed my eyes and let the oreos and cream mix and melt on my tongue before swallowing the smooth delicious ingenious concoction. And like the ice cream, all of my anxiety seemed to melt away.

Anyone who says you can't find solutions to your problems by eating... well, they're right. However, I do know drowning myself in that bowl of cookies and cream made me feel a helluva lot better.

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Just in case...

Just in case he ever forgets, I left him this reminder. If he finds it, great. If he doesn't, it wasn't meant to be. I have told him. He knows. I have asked him, I'm still waiting. I will wait forever.

Pour votre altesse
Je t'aime. Vous êtes l'amour vrai de ma vie et je veux être cette manière avec toi pour toujours. Je veux toujours svp à toi n'aime aucune autre femme. Séjour avec moi. Être avec moi. Me choisir.

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Changes

My life is changing. I'm moving into a new townhouse, finishing my graduate studies, jump starting my writing career. Not to mention the fact that I have relationships that require my nurturing tender love and care even more lately. All of this may sound exciting, but it gets exhausting. Every day, I wonder why these changes in my life have to happen all at once.

Years ago, I read a book by Danielle Steele called "Changes" that included a poem with the same title in the front. Today I recalled it for someone in my circle to explain what I'm going through.

Changing,
Dancing,
Leaping,
Creeping
From old life
Into new,
Wondering
What
I think
Of you,
Unseen dreams,
And newfound
Schemes,
Two lives
Enmeshed,
Embroiled,
Enhanced
At last,
And suddenly
Heart
Snagged,
Held fast,
No turning
Back,
No letting go,
Too late to run
Too soon
To know
If all is well,
Yet time
Will tell
It all,
And softly
In the night
I call
Your name,
Nothing quite
The same
Admidst this total
Rearranging,
As everything
About me
Is shifting,
Moving,
Changing.

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No Regrets

No Regrets... Ever

He asked if I would have any regrets if we made love
I answered with a question of my own
Regrets?
Kissing, hugging, sleeping next to you
Having you between my legs
Eating, drinking, licking me
Having you in my mouth
Tasting, licking, drinking you,
Being between your legs,
While you're in my sanctum, on my back, from the back?
Never baby, ever.

And then we made love for the next fifty years.

We all should be so blessed... to find someone whom we can love and enjoy making love to for the rest of our lives. Just the other day, a friend and I were discussing our "regrets" about sex. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about because most of us have had at least one sexual experience that we'd like to forget. Some of us have had many, too many, but we won't go there. Call me old-fashioned, but I still admire those couples whose pictures appear in Jet magazine every week with the caption, "Married 50 years." I think it's sweet and I hope and pray between caring for their babies, attending PTA meetings and church services, going on family vacations and to family reunions, and paying mortgages, car notes and tuition, at least half of those years were spent swinging from the chandeliers and making sweet, unregretful, unforgettable love.

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Words of Wisdom from Miss Maya about Married Men

They Went Home

They went home and told their wives,
that never once in all their lives,
had they known a girl like me,
But...They went home.

They said my house was licking clean,
no word I spoke was ever mean,
I had an air of mystery,
But...They went home.

My praises were on all men's lips,
they liked my smile, my wit, my hips,
they'd spend one night, or two or three.
But...

--Maya Angelou

I think the poem speaks for itself. For all of my sisters who ever thought about getting involved with a married man, remember at the end of the day, he's going home. Take care of you.

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What I Couldn't Say

Ever wanted to tell someone something, but couldn't bring yourself to utter the words? Because you were unsure or didn't want to reveal how vulnerable he/she made you feel? Because you feared the truth would give away your power? In order to protect yourself from possible disappointment? To keep from sticking your foot in your mouth? It happens, right. Even to the best of us. Times when we could say things that we know would put us on front street so we hold back. I held back and with good reason. The more he talked, the more I realized I had to hold back and act like an adult. Anyway, here's what I couldn't say.

Strummin’ my pain
Singin’ my life
First Roberta,
Then Ms. Hill
Reminded me
Spoke my truth
Made me question
This flesh man
Like strong winds
From the east
From my past
Wakes me
Every day
Keeps me
Through the night
With his words
Promises
Body, mind and heart
Linked together
Passion overflowing
Savors me
In, on, around
Holds me
In his dreams
Feels me
When I speak
Angers me
With secrets
Soothes me
With Baby
Turns my skin
Inside out
Massages
Those parts
I cannot see
Churns my juices
Buttermilk
Spins my soul
Silk
I feel him
He feels me
He fills me
Up, more, over
The top of reason
Beyond logic
Into a future
Clear of signs
No restraints
Deliberately
Intentionally
Carefully
By design
He exists
And I wait
Hope
Pray
His words
His song
My song
My life
Our bodies
Rollover
Merge
Blend
Fuse
Into sweet
Whispers
Lullabies
Synchronous
Longer than
Three days
72 hours
And a day off
To rest
Before his gig ends
Bags packed
Guitar in case
On the next bus
Train
Plane
Leaving Georgia
At midnight
In summertime
When the heat
Waves goodbye
And I forget
The sound of
His voice
My strings
Our song

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Baby Smiles

Last Sunday, my daughter and I had to sit in the balcony at church. It’s been that way for the past couple of Sundays because it’s a new year (not to mention our severe tardiness). Anyway, it doesn’t bother us to sit up there although it takes forever to get out at the end of service.

Well, as I listened to the message and tried to understand how it applied to my own life, I started to notice the cute little brown baby boy who was being held by a woman sitting in front of me. He could have been about seven months old. The woman who I first assumed was his mother had him standing in her lap and facing the both of us. Just as I noticed him and smiled, he noticed me and smiled wider. From that point on, he continued to watch me and wait for me to return his stare, so that he could charm me some more with his deep dimples and curly black afro. Even though I’d returned my attention to Pastor, I could not continue to ignore this sweet child begging for my attention with his stare and rewarding me with such a beautiful happy smile when I gave it to him. Neither could the woman who was holding him. She started bouncing him up and down in an attempt to end his sudden fascination with me. Eventually, she handed him back to his mother who after noticing his interest in something or someone behind her, followed his line of sight to me. I looked at her and smiled. I think she expected to catch me doing something to encourage his behavior. But, I wasn’t. No coochie-coochie-coos, cutsie winks, funny faces, nothing. Only an occasional smile.

I don’t know what this child saw when he looked at me that made him want to smile. I’d like to think that somehow my smiling face made him happy. I’d like to think that he saw what God sees when He looks at me—my spirit. He wasn’t laughing, just smiling like he was the happiest baby alive. Regardless, I won’t soon forget him.

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Remember When Friends

Last week, I was talking to a co-worker and friend and I asked him if he'd realized that we'd become "Remember When" friends. Seems like just yesterday that we started working together. Now, our conversations are frequently peppered with the opening phrase, "Rememeber when." I guess that's a good thing, you know-- having people in your life who have been around long enough to reminisce about your past. Being in someone else's life long enough to reflect on shared experiences. Making history with others. Of course, no one wants to be reminded of things that may not have been so pleasant. But I've found that those type of folks usually don't last long in my life anyway because they just bring too much negativity with them.

CHALLENGE YOURSELF: Look in your immediate circle and count the number of "remember when" friends that you have.

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