Dear Ghostees.
You know who I am. The girl you think is generous. Is a bit flaky but reliable in that she keeps a promise. But she hasn’t replied to your messages. You probably think it’s your fault. Or are worried about me. The truth is, I just don’t have anything to say. I’m fine, I’m terms of my physical health. I could probably exercise smarter and eat better. But I don’t binge or starve myself. The next question would be my mental or emotional health. This is less straightforward. The mystics might call what I’m having ‘a dark night of the soul’, the doctors, depression, but for me neither of those fits the bill. I feel a deep sadness, a grief which seems to have no bearing on my everyday existence, and a surface calmness. All my superficial exchanges with people feel false, I...
Broken Hearts
As a black guy it's offensive to me that a lot of black women whether be in a relationship married to whites guys instead of standing in their face sucks. I have to say their a lot of good guys black and white just saying that these fine intelligence African American woman seems to end in a relationship with white guys some black even prefer to be with older white men older enough to be their father! To all you black guys you need to start treating woman with more respect their fore you want lose them to white guys! Just sucks seeing some fine attractive African American or muracial woman whether they're politics news media sports etc ending up turning to whites older white guys enough of this sh*t black men need to start treating black women with more respect...
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Dear K,
Happy Hour is all we’ll ever be. I know that now. But two years ago inside that speakeasy, you filled my heart with generous servings of untold stories and cocktails of now broken promises. You promised me we'd hunt the best-tasting coffee, fly to see the Festival of Colors, board hot air balloons, discover hidden bars, and make all our dreams come to life. It was so easy to get drunk in those statements when you’re in love. It was easier to get lost in minutes because you’d think that 60 is more than enough. It was easiest to make rash judgment when your brain tricks you into believing that ‘we’ meant the two of us, together. Trust me, Happy Hour isn’t all that happy when it’s about to end… when it’s your real happiness that’s about to end.
We had to take the check. I didn...
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In 2014, I prayed to God to make me whole. That year, God crushed me even more. I came with a limp but He immediately had me amputated. I went into that world with a pride of a homeless person but I came out like a hollow zombie, hungry and bleeding and empty. If I came in with a warning; I sure walked out that place with a life sentence.
I worked through that year like it was always Monday after a long weekend. And I stayed. I stayed because each overworked Monday that ended eased through you like a sigh of relief that only Tuesday could bring. You rewarded me with your friendly pink shirt, your warm and solid handshake, your familiar work playlist, your easy small talks, your casual ‘see you tomorrow’.
You drew out your plans with so much confidence that you inked them on the...
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I miss you. A lot. I think your sudden disappearance made the pain of losing you even harder to bear. One second you were there and the next, I wasn’t sure if we ever existed. But I fucking miss you so bad. Like not even in a justified way because you weren’t my soul mate, I know that now, and we weren’t even very good friends. But I fell for you so hard that I knew I loved you after 3 weeks. Crazy, right?
It was stupid to love you, it was a romance with a time limit. We both knew I was only there a few more months before I travelled 3000 miles home and I told myself it was nothing serious, but your accent and your kind eyes and the way you held me made me forget every reason it was a silly decision. And instead we fell so madly in love that I didn’t care it would hurt like hell when...
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You have gone through much in life. Burnt, disappointed, empty, tired. You told me so, but there wasn't any need. I felt it the same way one feel a deep crack in fine glass.
Let me romanticize this wound, for the nature of itself provides dignity. And you cover it. Yes, good to be discrete. We, the world, show no mercy nor forgiveness to those who dear to try, to be, to love, to fight, to defend themselves, to keep, to believe. We show no respect to those who fails. I would like to give you amnesty, I sincerely do. Yet, it's hypocrisy. Why you? Or rather, why only you? I am the failure here. What is so hard about being a little kind?
Truth being said, I am quite jealous of you. I can only imagine what your story is. Well, I know you for many years, I knew some of your partners, and...
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The time has come to make one of the most difficult decisions of your life because making the right choice doesn’t make it any easier to bear. Today is the day that you come to the clinic laden with sadness and doubt. You’ve been putting off this appointment, praying for a clear sign that your best friend is ready to leave your side or hoping that there is something that the veterinarian can do to prolong their life so you can have more time with them. This doesn’t make you a bad pet owner, it’s something that everyone whose life has been touched by an animal wrestles with when that pet reaches their golden years. There is no judgement passed on you by any members of the staff, we respect your decision and truly understand what you are going through. We admire your strength and devotion...
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An open letter to the first boy who ever broke my heart;
We were just kids when we met. Middle school. The great expanse of life before us, neither of us knowing what the future would hold. You weren’t my first crush by any means, but you were the first one that really mattered. You were the boy that would change absolutely everything.
I really don’t know how we spent so much time together, but it happened. Between track practice and choir and lock-ins, I knew that I liked you... I didn’t just like you, I LIKED you. One night, with several friends around in a swimming pool, someone asked me if I LIKED you, and I got embarrassed, I got nervous, and I said no. You were right there. How could I possibly say yes? But the truth was yes. I DID like you. That was seventh grade. I liked you...
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I never though I’d get this attached. It was one day I found myself smiling and I realised it was because of you. This is my letter to you that contains the words I’m too afraid to say. There are so many things that I would like to say to you, but I don’t know how. You are never going to see this, hell, I doubt any body will.
You were all my heart ever talked about. My friends got so sick of me constantly talking and chattering about you. You were my favourite subject, there was so much I could talk about, your smile, your latest instagram post, what we were talking about. I never ran out of things to say about you. I talked about you like you put the stars in the sky and the melody in a song. Did you ever talk about me to your friends?
Did you know that every 11:11 wish I ever made...
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Oh Cookie, Cookie, Cookie, why are you so deep into the very heart of me?
If you come in and don't make eye contact, speak to Feet first, I feel deflated, utterly deflated, I feel my heart wince and I try to make eye contact with you, but you avoid it... You feel my excitement and pleasure at your appearance, but you struggle with acknowledging me when others are there why? Maybe I do this too, I know I speak/look first at others to throw them of the scent that I worship you above all others.
Just a look from you, a sign, a smile anything that makes me feel seen by you lightens up my life. And then I am loath to let you go, when you are sat in the room I am compelled to watch you, to will you to turn around and talk with. I crave your attention and this is bad for me Cooks.. very...
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