It’s four o’clock in the morning and I’ve been up since one; Staring at this one fucking word that keeps flashing in my mind, Keeping me from the rest I’ll desperately need tomorrow. But right now tomorrow morning is the last thing from my thoughts as this one word sentence continues to fuck with all my emotions.

As I rise from my bed for the third or fourth time tonight, I dig through a pile of boxes in my closet to find that goddamn word haunting and nagging me. I pull a gold cylinder shaped object from its Whitehall coffin that I buried it and our relationship in more than a month before. As I remove it from it’s perch, I see it’s reality looking back at me, laughing at me, taunting me as I read it’s inscription aloud for all my neighbors and God to hear this one word, “ANYTHING.”

“ANYTHING,” what a crock of shit! What the hell does that mean now? I continued to hiss aloud in a rage of frustration to a countless stack of boxes and bare colorless walls of what use to be our bedroom. And as I lash out to my inanimate audience, their silent reaction to my immature temper tantrum clouds the air and my mind with the silence I need to regain my composure and the strength to accept the situation and move on.

But to no surprise of my own, I can’t help but shed a tear as I continue to grasp in the palm of my trembling hand, my wedding rings. And with them I hold the first of her many letters graced with that very same word, anything, running throughout its contents. Along side her letter, a frame outlined in a gold brassy finish, is a photo of her and I together enamored in all white as the glistening sun’s ray’s shined down upon us as our first real kiss was immortalized in that magical moment on our wedding day last July. But now that moment is nothing more than a memory along with countless others just like it, that are no longer a reality for us.

I continue to look mindlessly at what appeared to be a happy, blossoming couple and wonder “Where the hell had we gone wrong”. But who was I kidding? The shit was over and these days it seemed as if anything was exactly the thing that kept us apart.

As that thought passed through my mind a familiar song played on my stereo. It’s Aaliyah’s “ Can I come Over” The sound of her words brings back a sensation I am beginning to know all too well, slapping me in my face just as the letter, that word and these rings, had already covered moments before. Reminding me of all she and I shared only to show me what’s no longer mine. And now Aaliyah of all people was doing it too. But as the song began to fade into some thug anthem, that I can’t quite make out, I share my thoughts with Aaliyah just before she is completely gone, “No bitch you can’t come over!” I screamed as another stream of tears tickled their way down my cheeks.

And as if she (Aaliyah) was attempting to get some sort of pay back from my unnecessary remark, In she sends Jaheim’s ballad “Anything”, to echo across the radio waves and into my ears to slap me once more. However this time I can’t help but chuckle amongst myself as I begin to see her point. It wasn’t her fault. She was simply here to sing her song and just because I was in a pissy mood, someone else was probably bumping and grinding to the smooth sensual sound of her beautiful, exotic voice. Point taken.

Just as I was beginning to lighten up from my obvious rut of a broken heart, in parades Monica’s “So Gone” on the radio to explain all that I was feeling inside. Deep down, I prayed that April was somewhere awake too, to hear all that Monica and I wanted to tell her. But more than likely she was somewhere doing her thing or she was laid out asleep somewhere in a room far away. But either way she’d miss the message and thus miss my one last attempt to have her back in my life as more than a mere acquaintance.

But what more could I do to convince her of our mistakes? As I sit here trying to fathom how the love of my life could forget a love between us so miraculous, so easily without so much as single thought was truly beyond my comprehension. I thought our love could survive the odds, I thought we could find our way together through the raging storms as well as the quiet meadows, I guess I was wrong. It’s a shame that we allowed a single series of arguments to destroy a fire as bright and as radiant as a sun’s ray only to be taken whole by the powerful forces of a hurricane’s rain.

We weren’t strong enough. Caught in it’s path; all of our aspirations and dreams of a promising tomorrow together were now nothing more than hopeless fantasies that drifted shapelessly within the summer’s breeze of our breakup. Perhaps the only true mistake was my own when I inadvertently surrendered the epitome of my hearts soul too intensely to a woman that could never completely be mine. How April could be so content after everything that we had put one another through still amazes me. How she was able to conjure my inner thoughts and fears and twist and manipulate them from their private corners in my mind only to exploit them to the brightest of lights continues to tare at my heart. Maybe she was indeed the player her past reflected and I, merely another game consumed by my weakness for her charms, for her to play and inevitably conquer.
Although my mind wants desperately to believe that our union was nothing more than a show for her to perform, my heart tells me something completely different. My heart knows that she loved me even though my mind is screaming something else. We shared a life, a family, and a love beyond comparison. We were meant to be. I can still recall the softness of her exquisite hands over the smooth curves of my voluptuous frame. She made love to me in a way no other man or woman ever could. She touched me so deeply that she not only intrigued my body, she exploded my mind with thoughts of all that she and I could be and eventually were.

One of my[1]_ favorite moments of our unsurpassed intimacy had taken place one rainy afternoon sometime last year. The clouds were so enormous that they painted the skies gray with the thickness of their intensity. Oh my God the way that woman could make me feel still brings tears to my eyes only now they are tears of sadness for a love affair that is no more. DAMN! But still, I smile as I continue to reminisce.

She laid me down on a carpet the color of almonds ever so gently as she always did. She was so “gentlemanly” in the way she held me. With the sliding glass patio door wide open; only the sheerness of the black transparent screen was there to shield our naked bodies from nature’s own heavenly moisture. She embraced me slowly as she ran her thick Carmel colored fingers down the side of my face as she positioned me for a long passionate kiss thus igniting the fire within the depths of our woman hood. She continued to touch my body tenderly as she slid her right hand up the left side of my calve, to the top of my thigh and down to the dripping heat of my pulsating center.

She linger there for a while massaging me with only the perfection of a lover who truly knows her subject well. As the massaging of my love continued her desire to do more grew stronger with each stroke of my silky wet folds. Awl she felt so good. The thought of a pleasure once shared between us signals a mix of emotions within me, some of which I’m not eager to discontinue just yet. The endless galleries of my memories of our lovemaking within the vaults of my mind stretch an unimaginable distance as urge my recollection of that day’s events onward….

She trailed soft kisses from my breast to my stomach, never losing the rhythm to her previous actions. The tender touch of her perfectly pink shaded Starburst lips settled their way to the place they had called home for damn near three years. My body had no choice but to respond eagerly to the earth shattering movement of her tantalizing tongue ring. But who was I kidding with or with out it, she could always have me singing the praises of our lord in an acappella style of opera.

The entire experience was surreal. The way in which the tip of her tongue, the excitement of her thick caramel digits along with the accompaniment of the hot liquid juice dripping from her lusciously pink lips drove me completely insane as the rain from the heavens splashed through the grids of the transparent screen door. Providing us with an extra, somewhat unnecessary wetness that kept us cool although our bodies were completely engulfed in an extreme desire for the other. She kept me wet and wanting her from every angle and variation.

There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do in an attempt to please her. That was our inner commitment and common goal to one another almost from the very beginning of our relationship. I was her “Sunshine” and she was my “Baby-girl”. I was her “Mama” and she was my “Baby”. We were in fact just like that, dependent of the other’s nurturing ability to keep us safe from all those who could cause us harm and thus keeping us virtually inseparable.
> Damn, I miss her. But there was so much more to her than her skill in the bedroom. There was just a way about her. She was beautiful. Beautiful in the manner in which she carried herself, in the way her presence could lighten the darkest of rooms’. But more importantly, was the beauty of her inner soul. She told me once or twice that her soul belonged to me, I cherish those words now more than ever before. I guess you could say that I’ve come to depend on what that stands for when it comes to her heart. I guess it’s just another useless case of wishful thinking. I suppose I’m just hoping that her soul is out there somewhere in search of mine. I’m hoping in the end, that her soul will lead her heart home to me and within the comfort of my arms once more.

However, I can’t help but feel like a pathetic mess as I sit here hoping for a miracle that will more than likely never come my way again. Or at least that is the impression I get from her every time I try to express my feelings. It’s as if she has closed and re- keyed all of the locks to the doors of her heart. Where I once had unlimited access, able to utilize any key of my choice to get all I wanted from her, I am now denied all entry. Hell I can’t even set foot on her doorstep.

She has brushed me out of her life like a piece of useless lent consuming sacred space on the edge of her favorite Red Skins sweatshirt. Without so much as an explanation other than the countless passion marks I am forced to witness from yet another encounter of her latest lover. How quickly things between us change. I can’t help but wonder as she feasts upon the temptation of her latest victim if she can taste the saltiness of my tears as they fall from my eyes at each and every though of her tantalizing and tasting someone new.

But I guess whenever she finds the time to be alone, long enough to recall my name in the long list of countless faces before me, I’m sure she wonders the same about me. For I too am no angel. I have taken all the lessons she could teach and tell and taught them too countless others. Well maybe not so countless, two, but more importantly I have taken all the hatred of loves wrathy revenge with me. I hate it. I hate the person that I have become without her by my side. Who am I kidding, I could never completely enjoy the same satisfaction she might encounter from causing another pain because of my dysfunction within myself.

But I have, I’ve caused pain. I have pushed away not one, but two beautiful women for the love of a woman, who no longer has the desire to be concerned. Despite my undying efforts to rekindle our passion, I am forced to retire into my own personal hell… alone. But still, they stand beside me in my day to day anguish, each awaiting an opportunity to be the next one in line for my heart. But a concept they will never grasp, just as I will never grasp the concept of April’s sudden departure, the decision of my heart can not be changed so easily. Well at least not yet. Just as committed as they, I wait patiently for the love of a heart that doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge my presence one way or the other. But only time will cleanse me of my hearts wounds from yet another delicate piece lost from my life.

Just as the last barely had the time to cross my mind completely, yet another song, plays on the radio breaking me from another long-winded whirl wind of daydreams. As the very first phrase is spoken it immediately catches my attention. The song coincidentally was one of which I played for April not so long ago causing me to fall deeper. The talented British vocals are sung by one of my all time favorite duos by the name of FLOETRY. As “Sunshine” begins to play gently across the radio waves, I can only hope April held close to her heart the full meaning of the intro to the first verse:

“ You know sometimes we umm, we don’t recognize our dreams inside our realty, and other times we’re not aware of exactly what’s real. Ya know we walk around day dreamin’. But the Sunshine….. The Sunshine always is.”

I guess I’ll never really have the heart to turn my back on “Anything.” But for now a temporary “see ya later” will have to suffice. For no matter how emotionally difficult it may seem for me to let her go there is one thing that I hope will always remain the same whenever she finds herself thinking of me. I hope she knows… the Sunshine always is.

The End

Copyright © 2003. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.

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