Skip to main content


"A broken heart is a broken heart. To take a measure is cruelty."

It's been almost four months since New Boo and I broke up, and I'm still broken. Undone. Forever changed. I'm sure I'll be back to myself eventually, but I know I'll never be the same. My heart will never be able to trust the way it did before him.

It's a death -- plain and simple. No matter how you look at it, my love, my hopes, and my dreams have died. And my heart has been shattered. I couldn't put it back together if I tried.

There's no cure for heartbreak. There just isn't.

And here's the killer -- I know it's possible to get over these things. I've seen people do it for years. I have to wonder how my mom handled the heartbreaks of her life. Or my grandmother.

I realize that in the general scheme of life, my issues are very minor. People get their hearts broken every day. People get disappointed every day. People wake up alone every day. People's dreams are shattered every single day. People lose loved ones who really cared for them every day. I get that. I KNOW what I'm going through isn't that deep.

But it's deep to me. It hurts me. It makes me cry. It make me feel inadequate and small and insignificant. It breaks me to my core. And I feel like a fraud because even though I get up and move around every day, all I really want to do is curl up in a corner and cry.

I never thought I'd be this girl. Never in a million years.

And if I'm honest with myself today, it's so much more than just the breakup. It's the let down. I honestly thought he loved me. I thought he cared. I believed him when he said we were each other's last dates. I thought we'd grow old together.

I was ready for that. I set my heart on that. I put all my eggs into THAT basket. And now that basket has been tossed in the garbage like yesterday's leftovers.

Yesterday was especially hard. I went back to the scene of the crime. I went back to the place where we fell in love...where we became an "us." I was doing fine...really I was...until we came to the part where my friend was talking about the emergency contact feature on iPhones. I didn't know you could access it from the emergency screen. So she showed us, and I realized I'd already set it up. It listed New Boo as my partner. I literally almost fell to pieces. Fortunately, she was there to edit it and get it out of there, but the damage was done.

My homegirl asked me why it was so hard for me to get over this. I guess the short answer is that I don't want to. I want HIM to get over whatever HE'S going through and come back to me. I want HIM to want ME as much as I want him. I want to be the one who's being cried over.

In other words, I want HIM to stop the shenanigans and come home to what we had.

I realize that won't happen.

So I have to try to cope and move on.


Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Yeah...About That...

I'm watching Scandal, and Mellie was talking about how lonely it is to be the president. She spoke about how men have a problem with regular powerful women, but being the leader of the free world comes with a chastity belt.
I get it.
I'm nowhere near the leader of the free world. I'm not even the leader of free lunch, but I get it. If men perceive you to have one more drop of power than they do, they can't handle it.
This is my life. At least it is when it comes to the men I've known.
It's not even like that for me.
I don't even have enough juice to get what I want at work.
But yet I'm seen as intimidating.