(best read if you listen to Joe Budden’s “Couldn’t Help It” while reading)
As I tried to supress the tears, flashing back to all the nights I cried, all I could wonder was, “Why?” I look in your eyes and I see a mixture of frustration and desperation. Blood under my nails, scars will cover your skin. Where did the love end? Where did the disrespect begin? I can’t even talk to you. We’re both breathing heavy. People are watching. No one is helping. A scene under the streetlights. My keys almost in the gutter and your phone on the curb. My heart was shattering. My body was hurting. Neither one of us could speak. How did we get here?
I thought after the first time, you’d definitely stop. Between anxiety and the misery of my intuition becoming reality, even I couldn’t stomach me. I was sick. I was so sick. That soon turned to anger. Anger that I could do nothing about. I screamed and I yelled. You pleaded. Pleaded. I swear I thought I heard remorse, thought I felt respect, thought you felt me. The anger turned physical. Instead of letting go, where are we now? Damn, just miserable. Then 6 months later I found myself going through the same. You wouldn’t dare mention her name. I’m in the street and some females were ice grilling me. I used to just smirk and cock my head- down for whatever. Guess that’s the G in me. I hid my broken heart so well. So perfect to the paparazzi but inside such hell. Finding pictures in locked places, “I’m pregnant” texts and flirtacious messages on MySpaces.
I passed on him, ignored shorty because all I could see was you. Back then, I used to wonder why couldn’t you only just see me too. As he’s inside of me, thoughts of you are inside of me. About how it used to be. Once upon a time when we lived happily. When we rode through the hood, meeting each other at red lights in our hoopties. Nah, these tears aren’t from ecstacy. I just can’t believe I’m letting him lay next to me. My phone is vibrating and I know its you calling. It’s 3am… around the same time I used to know it was her calling. How did I get here? Everyone used to tell me how lucky I was. Everyone wanted to have a man who loved them like he does.
I didn’t get abs from working out for 2 hrs every night. Nah, baby, I didn’t roll over one day and decide to get right. And yet I used to pray you’d wake up and just decide to do me right. Sometimes I wonder if you made me feel unpretty. Was I walking around thinking no one else would fuck with me? I just let you mentally fuck with me. So when he approached me at the bar, my smile was true. He was a light skin shawty, but he’d have to do. He made me laugh. I’d missed that so much. I winced in pain, thinking my ribs were crushed. That anguish reminded me of my goal to let go. A new year, new me, a new chance to grow.
I accepted his number with a promise to call. Once upon a time, would I have? Not at all. Text messages and voicemails, they populated my phone. I missed most of them. The jack was home all alone. At first we were just kickin it– I was fighting him off. He accused me of playing hard to get. Like girls do, just showing off.
Then one day I decided to let him in. He offered to drop me off and I said, “Nah… please come in.” As his eyes looked over me, I don’t know if I’m even participating. I could feel the wetness my pores, our bodies precipitating. Was I wrong? I don’t know. But I had to do it. Had to prove it— to myself. My heart, I had to move it. I had to let go. With each exercise, I let go more. How would I feel in the morning, right now, I wasn’t too sure. Afterall, where we were wasn’t love. This wasn’t my truth. Excuse after excuse, and I believed in you. When only one mattered… because you wanted to.
Every crack you put in my heart, I felt it. But, he kissed me from my nose to my navel and I melted. This was just the first time, and like I did, you’d have to accept it. So as you stare at me in disbelief. I’ll just tell you like you told me, “I couldn’t help it.”