for months.. months now I have been trying to decipher all that i felt i needed in a significant other .. because you know, they say have lists… have standards.. non-negotiable’s. so i did. i created lists so specific. so vague. so in between. i was told i want too much, and then not enough. that i wanted too hard and then that i did not care enough. i dated. i talked to. got to know.. even opened some doors that i shut a long time ago for these dudes. i wanted closure. in a sense, i wanted to know i was date-able .. cuffable. i wanted to know someone could brush the hairs out of face and call me darling. i wanted someone to hold my hand and tell me it was okay .. what i didn’t ask for was to be constantly questioned. i did not ask to be doted like i was an object to be worshiped. i never asked for gifts or monetary things. i never asked for dates. never asked… i never forced anyone’s hands - i just let them be… that’s always been who i was. i never wanted to force someone’s hand, give ultimatums. i just like to create environments of emotional safety and watch how people unfold. and boy did they ever. i had men cry to me, plead with me, act crazy with me, beg for me to stay .. not because of me as a woman but the comfort i promoted.. they wanted me because in me, they saw a better them .. and that’s beautiful. that’s a wonderful thing that i can reflect that but if i am not gaining anything at all.. and i am being drained then what’s the point? what’s the point of texting all day when my number is just a cathartic contact, when i am interchangeable with the likes of a therapist? how special does that make me when i am not a woman you can’t live without but someone who makes your existence easier by hauling on your burdens.. and then it hit me - i believe that the universe not only wants me to be single but to exists for myself. i think the world wants me to not only be selfish, but to guard my Majesty and create that safe space for myself. i think i am being drawn within myself to create a home out of my chest for me. i simply don’t want it at the time being. i have exhausted every bit of humanitarian bone in my body for certain brothers - i can’t save them anymore. i am not a life jacket to keep you from drowning, i am the anchor, better yet, i am the ship. i am a force to be reckoned with. i am potential personified. and to say that it has been wasted with men who believe wooing me lies within a dinner date? whatever happened to more? to dreaming? hoping? believing? traveling? adventuring? spontaneity? friendship? these men bat their eyelashes and expect me to leap at the slightest bit of attention and affection? I don’t get out of bed for anything less than true love. go hard or go home. 

love letter to the men who couldn't get her —

coffeetalkxo:

hey you, yes you. remember me? the girl who kept you up so late at night probably because all of your phone calls were made so late at night. yes, me the one who came and brought you food and gifts to your house, came saw you when you were sick? remember her? The one who listened to you gripe and complain about your ex, telling me she was crazy and how she had an attitude problem and how you like me so much because i’m so different. yes me, i’m writing you to tell you that our waters were troubled before we stepped in, in case you didn’t know. she would call and text you and you would swear that it’s nothing and that you’re in the situation with me to grow. those waters that left me high and dry many a nights, debating if i should call to question your whereabouts, did I even have that right? better yet, did i even stand a chance? because the second she came around, it’s like i was tossed out. made no sense to me, i was raised to be strong, resilient and to never take no shit from anyone, especially not no man, but i somehow ended up being the seat-filler for your past. and no don’t try and give me that “you get what you allow” bullshit because when you fall in love, you don’t ask for it. you don’t ask to be treated as a second-rate lover when all the while you were number one in my life. this wasn’t a love of permission, nope. i cared so much that i ended up getting hurt. all the soft shit aside, was it because she screamed at you louder than i? or maybe it’s because she was hitting your phone up non stop? and i beg the question, how in the world did her birthday end up as the password to your phone while i’m laying next to you? how did you end up at her family gathering and i’m waiting for a call? too many questions, i’ll let this all simmer. just take a deep breath, understand that i don’t regret a thing because i loved you fully and deeply, and here i am, woman enough to admit you are a fuck up. i didn’t stand a chance huh? i bet. i thought love was supposed to ignite carnal instincts in people, the hunt. supposed to make you want one person and when you find them that’s it. why didn’t you just choose her? better yet, why the fuck did you choose me while you still loved her? sorry, i know i promised no more questions but did you think that just because i laughed at all your jokes i wouldn’t wise up to your immature ass methodologically way of loving someone? i finally did.

with love, 

Hoda xo.