Archives for posts with tag: Breakups

I wish a she-bear would burst into this restaurant and devour me. This date is is going no where fast. No more pastors. #TopieDates 

And for the record, there’s NO WHERE in the Bible where it says that a woman has to change her last name and that has nothing to with her unwillingness to submit. And secondly, no one wants to talk about submission on the first date And thirdly, there’s never a situation where you can eat a sweet potato fry off my plate.


I met a really guy nice recently. He’s handsome, witty, a wee snarky, intelligent, musically inclined, loves indie movies and he’s a foodie. He’s pretty perfect. I just ended a conversation with him because he said “I don’t like curried goat.” I can’t believe I’ve spent the last 5 weeks talking to this Philistine. 

I feel tricked, used, goatfished and quite frankly, angry. 

How dare he waste my time like this. I know I should pray but I’m just too frustrated to lay this at the altar. Is this how Issac felt when he realized that his Dad was leading him to his death under the guise of wanting to spend quality time? I was thisclose to starting a life with someone who doesn’t appreciate the flavor complexity of goat that has been curried amidst a pool of onions and pimento. 

I’m floored.

There are moments, (ok..let’s be honest) there are several moments that I’m very hasty! I tend to shut potential suitors off because of a ill expressed text, a joke that went awry or them not wholeheartedly agreeing with me. I’m such a brat! I ended things perhaps a bit prematurely with a person because he said he wanted more sexually. I got my panties all in a bunch and decided that he was way too carnal for me and my prudish sensibilities. I told him to stop contacting me and that we had no future. My wonderful (single) friends cheered me on and I felt that I made the right decision. Then a few days passed and I started to miss him terribly. I missed his laugh, his dimples, his broken English and well, everything. So I decided to text him. The conversation went well but it left me with a lot of questions. 

Why did I cut him off so quickly?

 Why didn’t I give him the opportunity to explain himself?

 Why do I insist on making serious life-altering decisions on the strength of text messages? 

He was a wee vulgar but I didn’t allow him the oppurtunity to apologize or even explain himself. It almost felt that I knew I was really digging him, so I had to cut him off as a way out. 

I literally had to humble myself and shake some sense into myself. This is what I came up with: Someone wanting you sexually doesn’t mean that that’s the only reason they want you. It’s not fair to silence your partner because they share their desire for you with you. Ultimately, you can control how far things go sexually, so cutting someone off because they want to be physical is a bit hasty. 

This is why I’m “the reluctant wife,” I struggle with ending things romantically even though I want them. Maybe it’s low-self-esteem, uncertainty or not feeling adequate.. I’m not sure but this year I want to get to the root of the problem. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me and I want to invest in someone who will make me happy for a lifetime. 
Are you too hasty? I’d love to hear your stories in the comment section! 

Thought we had forever

instant chemistry, never had better

slow dancing in the middle of the night

met your family, everything felt right

bogus accusations, cold feet was your decided affliction 

now i’m stuck with memories of what I once knew

can’t even believe that I trusted you 

This love affair ended with kisses and despair 

impromptu night visits, lies I can’t revisit 

your sweet taste, your loving embrace, has turned to soul crushing chains

heartsick, dismissed, looking for your face in the shadows

I can only linger, your relationship politics will always get the finger

You’re my trigger, I figured, I was different but I was like the others 

your selective memory and distance, I’m just the shell of me 

 I pretend to stand tall

all those missed call

when we broke up, the shock of it all 

bonafide distress, the chore of getting dressed, I wish i missed you less 

you’ve moved on, trying hard to recall, what we promised each other; we said we’d give our all 

lies, lies, lies, things got tough, I called your bluff, now I’m here sitting with all my fears.

broken promises, you loved me 

i still feel you 

i still need you 

 its 5am, its almost dawn, this is my war song


No phone calls, no texts, no emails, no FB messages, no DMs, no tweets, no letters, nothing. I wasn’t holding out hope but the sudden end of this relationship has thrown me off center. Truthfully, I don’t spend my days thinking about him. I run errands, write, workout, eat my weight in cherries, I’m living. It only hits me at night when I’d rather have the weight of him on me than my comforter, when I long to nestle in the crook of his neck, or when I see pictures of happy couples on my FB timeline, that the pain is sharp and unrelenting. I can’t count how many times I’ve almost called or looked over his texts , dreamily traced his features with my fingers over his pictures. I don’t even think I miss him, in the “boyfriend” sense. He’s never been my boyfriend or even lover. He’s just been a ghost to a happier time in my life.  He represents a time when I allowed myself to be totally enveloped by love. I’ve grown colder, distant and a bit fearful of being in love again but I’ve always let myself go with him. I got caught up in his sweet-nothing’s, laugh and mouth that kissed, pecked and twisted into little white lies that he couldn’t keep up. He’s kept me hostage long enough, this year I’m letting him go. This doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m ready to love someone else, instead I’m giving myself permission to say that I need more. 

It’s been a week since our last conversation and though I miss him, I feel ok. In trying not to over analyze the reasons why he doesn’t want to talk to me, his reasons make no sense and  I have my theories, but the cold truth is that he doesn’t love me. I had a wine and cheese night with some friends recently and they told me that he does love me and that he’s confused and all the things you normally tell your friend when she’s hurting. Though I appreciate their words of support, I know he just doesn’t love me. I think I’ve always known this but I needed this last breakup to really solidify what I’ve always secretly known and never wanted to admit. I’m scared. I keep having these dreams that we’re together and happy but I wake up and he’s not here and he hasn’t texted. He’s ok with not talking to me and I guess I’m too prideful to text him, which is a bigger problem in itself. My love future looks a bit bleak but I’m forcing myself to accept a future without him. 

To take my mind off him, I’ve gone back to some of my old ways. I’ve been drinking a lot of green juice, going on walks, catching up my favorite tv shoes and listening to music. Problem is, I see him in everything. Every time I find a bit pleasure in my current pain, I want to share it with him which causes me more pain because I can’t. I wish the pain was acute. I wish it burned so I’d at least be able to tip toe around it. Instead it ebbs and flows and just when I think I’m ok, fat, hot tears start to roll down my cheeks. I’m physically tired of caring about him and I’m praying that this it. That he won’t text me, that I won’t reply and that we had will be a distant memory. 

I’d love to hear your breakup tips, leave them in the comments ❤️