If Only

Weary brown eyes behold the two precious manifestations of her very own womb, pondering what her life would have turned out to be if only she had taken Grandmawmaw’s advice and “kept them big ole legs shut” nearly a decade ago. True she loves her children, a fact proven due to the complete life change from free promiscuity and reaching for the stars to settling her whereabouts in order to be the proper mother and provider her children deserve. Money doesn’t come to fast and easy now; the pole carried her for the last time immediately after the knowledge of her first pregnancy. It’s glistening appearance and moneymaking tendencies call her name every once in awhile but even with the assurance that the thickness of her bowed honey hued legs still have the ability to get rent paid, integrity steps in. A mother she is and a mother she will be but still, the thrill of it all sways in and out of her conscience. The sight at innocent beauty, a young version of herself, convicts her mind of the opportunities at a stage life lived behind a stout silver microphone swooning crowds with a low and sultry, velvety voice…her passion. Resentment stands up, the warm and loving facial expression conforms to emotions of disgust flaring on the inside and a contorted glare of hatred is what four little eyes behold. Little voices inquiring of why mommy is so upset snaps her quickly back to present day. Smothering hugs consume her children with a warm tear or two dropping on each of their foreheads; them still unknowing of the inside struggle yet appreciating the tender moment. The mentally fragile woman releases her children and excuses herself to her room, shutting out motherhood just temporarily to indulge in a few bitter shots of relief. Praising the alcohol for calming her emotions, she drifts into her nap with desire fueled fantasies playing across the screen of her mind of what life could’ve turned out to be…. if only.

There She Is

There she is. The palms of her aged hands wrinkled from over 40 years of worry leak with anxiety as she stares at the man who broke her heart, along with her daughter’s so long ago. The cracked walls of the gym seemed much less intimidating at her class’s 30 year reunion than they did years past. The love of her life stands at a distance with his husky back braced and head held high. The cleft chin she remembered sensually caressing on dark nights to ease his pain away from the woes of being a black man trying to support his family hadn’t changed a bit. Before she left home she made sure to have her daughter flat-iron and barrel curl her naturally lengthy tresses so that the light would reflect off of the fresh for the occasion artificial blue black hair color which covered her grays. She knew her ex-husband, estranged for nearly 20 years would be there. After the little girl whom she had raised into a young woman finished applying make-up that she never would’ve otherwise worn to her already youthful looking complexion, she examined herself for assurance that he would know she made it on her own all these years…and  looked good doing it. Yes she had made it, graduated college even though it was well over the 10 years than she had planned. But she did it, single parent and all and now reigned as head of the Social Work department. Now within a few feet of him, she expresses all of her accomplishments to her old classmate and glances out of the corner of her ebony eye, twinging with pain as thoughts and memories flood back into her mind. She is better than that, better than him, he didn’t deserve her and still doesn’t, he left,  but she loves him, how could he break her heart after being the only man in her life for so long? She forgives him, no she doesn’t, yes she does, no, he wishes he could have a woman like her, she has a daughter not him. Haa! Look what he missed out on…no dumb ignorant woman can compare to her. She shakes her head to bring her mind back under submission to reality then slightly tilts her head in manners of a meek greeting towards her first love and his second wife before walking towards the nearest exit sign heading to her car.

A Fact About a Woman

The fact about a woman is that we all want to be held, treasured and loved in a way so deeply that we don’t even understand it ourselves. I believe that the fantasy of love that we have created within our own emotions could be one of the strongest binding chains in a woman’s life.This chain is around first the heart, then the mind, the eyes, the ears and even the souls of the beautiful creature whom God himself made to be a companion to the very thing that brings her the most pain and confusion. The same mouth that would degrade and insult the very essence of her womanhood belongs to the same body of the strong arms she will end up engulfed within hours or maybe even days later. Whispering heartfelt apologies and self inflicted scripts of self blame from her own delicate lips. It matters not that she knows that she did nothing wrong because she loves him, and she wants to be loved back in the same manner. So it’s okay, she’ll take the blame just that one time, that leads into another time, and a few more after that. She falls in love with deceiving her own self day after day even going so far as to pleading with her mind to believe that all is well. He will change, she will change and they will be joined together in a perfect union of matrimony, holy and acceptable unto God.