THOUGHTS OF HIM....

i thought of him. wondering if he was thinking of me. Afraid that he was, afraid that he was not. If he was that was not good because then we were both on the same page of a book that should not be read, could not be opened, not even purchased by preview. If he was not, than i would be shattered thinking of all the hours his smile had popped up in my mind, wondering what he was doing at that time. I wish I could go back to a couple months ago when this wasn't an issue. Now I cry out of confusion every now and again… damn where's the tissue. I wish I never knew you----i take that back. But I wish the desire to get to know you again would fall from my spirit. Take a trip in the toilet with the rest of the bullshit in my life.....Is that mean???? Cause… I'm not trying to be, but this fixation is taking over me and I can't control it - lust sick over so much more than a dick...my mind is playing tricks....and i just want it to shut- the- fuck- up! And when my mind is finally silenced from the things I'm running from, my heart speaks up out of it's peaceful slumber and takes over. I never listen to my heart though. Those transactions have been temporary put out of service from the multiple dis-service that it continued to bring. Now it wants to sing - a new song. Just leave-me-the-fuck-alone. Love doesn't live here anymore....if it ever has, so what difference do you think this transaction will have?????....wait....he called. Mind says don't answer....heart said fuck me.....i answer the phone, filled with joy yet reservation that he thought enough of me to call. Filled with sadness because now we're both stuck- with an unapparent desire for each other – to go down the same road - that is soooo inconvenient for both of our lives right now. But I don't care - the thought has ended - the conversation continues because I want to talk to him.......hey babe!!! I've been thinking of you to.............................................................. and I wanted to say >>>> NIGGA fuck you. You dumb as bastard, how dare you come into my life again when you’ve been such a coward. You make me sick…with your fine face and good dick, so full of shit. Think I can go years without you and you come out of nowhere to get some of this. You must be fooled. I’m glad you called because the phone ringing made me snap out of my day dreaming- dreaming of how you made me feel. So open you had me but that mess wasn’t real. Yet…it did feel sooooo good. You put it on me like only you could. Had me mo wet than any other as I surrounded your love stick. Don’t you miss how I used to ride it? Titties bouncen – I can hear you beggen for more right now. But anyway that was back in the day ain’t no more goodies for you – you damn goon. Yeah I’ll see you soon and I’ll say the same shit in your face. I said as I slammed the phone shut and placed it next to me. Playing hard to get- hardly, I know he wants me and I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t want him just as much. So I’ll sit here in wonder and keep playing love hate games until he arrives. And pray that I have enough self control not to take that dive. I have so much to lose right now gaining a moment of pleasure with him. He calls back. I laugh – ha!, nah you won’t get this ass. Or will he? Sad I can’t even answer that question honestly to myself. But I know I can’t stand him. Nevertheless, he won cause through all my back and forth emotions I still thought of him. Giving him at the least a slight chance to get back in. We will see at the end for the flesh is so weak to sin. Bastard!! – but I smile as I say it though….as I thought of him…..

Struggling To Hold On To Me

I struggle with depression and general anxiety. In the last six months it has been harder to manage. The reasons? Some of it is life in general ..some of it is the breakup with Casanvova Brown. I have done the medication and the counseling and overall I have been doing well.

The on slaught of the holidays appears to be kicking my emotional ass and, I hate it. I have become a pro at putting on a fine face for my public and, reserving my complete unraveling to my bedroom. Lately, however my unraveling moments are starting to spill out to my "sane" life. I am not sure why and, I would like to blame it all on the abscence of Casanova Brown but, there would be some lying involved in that.

This weekend I have held on to my sane thoughts with both hands. Constantly, recounting to myself the abundant blessings that God has rained down on me to counteract the negative thoughts that bombard me. Even in my sleep.

Being analytical is to someone who is depressed is like giving a gun to killer or crack to an addict. My drug of choice is defintely is a barrage of negative useless thoughts. I seem to be drowning in them.

It seems that I am having a harder time keeping my head above water. My thoughts clear and my anxiety under control. Nothing serious or fatal. I am just worried that one day my head will fall below the depression water line and stay there. I don't want to get stuck in depression. I want and need to have a real handle on life not the fake one I bring out to fool the masses.

Casanova Brown after months of praying that if he would just let go I would too. Now that he is I am silently becoming undone. It seems he was my last physical anchor. I know the whole God is my anchor but, we all need. Well, something tangible. But, the benefits of letting him go far outweigh the benefits of holding on to him. My sane minds knows that. My depressed heart five months later is trying to figure it all out. Time heals all wounds. We shall see

Right now life is about pushing uphill. The key to keep on fighting is to well keep on fighting. But, I need tips on how to funtion with this whole depression anxiety thing.

So if you have any tips holla back.

SHE BUST THE WINDOWS OUT YOUR CAR

Dear Mr. No Damn Good,

Let me start this off by saying this. That shit hurt didn't it. Watchin' her tear up your pride and joy. The sound of the bat to the metal of your car. The crunch of the shattering windshield under her foot. The giant ass dent her foot left. The pain of paying cash to replace that shit because you don't have no damn insurance. It hurt didn't it. Yet it still doesn't come close to the damage you did to me.

I feel like a bit of liar because I have been playing your "friend" during this whole ordeal. Truth is if even though I can't stand the heffa part of me wants to thank her for that complete display of foolery the other night. I never could do the "ghetto city players" with your ass. But, she of course has no problem. Isn't that what you said you liked the "excitement". How excited did your ass get when she hit your shit with that bat. Hmmm. I saw the look of excitement on your face when you had to shell out 200.00 for a new phone. Was that exciting enough. Or the pure joy you had from all your being shit packed in your car like a freaking nomad. Remember when you actually had a home. When we had a home. Shit two homes.

Yea, I listened to you pour your heart out in your little tale of "The Hood War Of The Roses". Trying to act like you are proud of your behavior. So you beat her down like a nigga. Funny weren't you just fucking her like she was your chick? The smirk on your face as you gave me the literal blow by blow. All I could think is what a dumb ass you are. You threw away four years..almost five for this non sense. I looked at you trying to find a shred of the man I thought you were when I fell in love with you. I can't figure out if you smoked and drank him away or if he was never there. I am gonna go with never there.

My favorite part was when you said this was all behind me. She was jealous of "us" the life we had together. That we still had "business" remants of our life together things in each other names and what not. She couldn't handle that you were"still in love with me". Like I couldn't handle that you couldn't stop fucking her.. I mean.. that you were in love with her. What a tangle web we weave. You know I don't believe that shit right??!!

I acted like I cared while I sat in the emergency room with you as you got your tetanus shot from her bite.What that was to freaky for you? Isn't that what you like about her that she could get down like I couldn't? She was a nigga.. right? She could drink and smoke like one..My bad guess she could fight like one too. Damn that shit ain't sexy now is it? No wonder you texted and called me every night you could begging to comeback "home". Damn it man she bit all the way through the ear. Well, that explains some it her jaws are hella strong. However, I do appreciate this: You taught me how to master the skill of faking like I gave a fuck. But, I don't. Not a damn bit.

I didn't care how she treated you. How embarrassed you were about her antics in public that got you thrown out of public places. I didn't care how much the repairs are gonna cost you and, as you were talking I realized I no longer cared even if you went back.

I want so badly to feel bad for what she did to you. To dig deep down inside and find the person that I use to be and muster up some compassion for the bullshit of a life you picked but, I can't. You killed every shed of compassion for you I ever had. No, not every shred or I wouldn't be here. See in the end I'm just not you. I have a heart. After you heal you should consider a trip to The Wizard you could use one. But, you and both know you called me because you ain't got no friends. Did she run them off too? Although, I wish no ill will to you. I can't say now that you haven't gotten a taste of karma that I'm not happy. Because, under my Xanax induced mind set. I find pure joy.

Oh, yes your pleas of how you fucked up. Made the wrong choice and it never was "all that I thought it was". See the fact that it was at all is enough. Was enough to lead you to where you are today. Was enough to look at you behind eyes of disappointment and disgust. And ask myself WTF was I doing all this time?

We were never truly meant to be..not really. I can accept that part. I can even accept that being with you in itself was my own karma coming back to me from the dirty sins of my past. But, I am amazed. Fucking amazed that you believe I care that you don't have place to lay your head. Can you go where? Home? Whose home? No, dude. That door has long closed for you . Or, that your gangsta"you know me. I'm gonna be alright" bullshit makes me think you are ..well normal. But, what amazes me the most is your sheer stupidity.

I did enjoy the simpleton explanation of how she is crazy. She has "mental issues". Hmmm.. you threw away a house, our kids, our life for sitting in the ER...your car busted up and the sheer madness of her and she is the nut. Maybe, that is where I missed it. Had I treated you like shit. Beat your ass. Threw shit at you when you came home. Cussed you out... cheated on you. You probably would have stayed. Then you would have been happy.

I hate the curse that I will probably always love you. Love the parts of us that at times were absolutely perfect even if they were a lie. I hate that forever when I hear your name my heart with flutter just a little. I hate that there will be times that I will get lost in memory that was you and I. I hate that when my daughters experience their first true broken heart( heaven forbid) when I tell them I know how it feels I will touch my heart and remember you. I hate that even now as I write this months after we broke up I tear up when my mind and heart linger a little to long over you. I hate that because of you I can't stand the name of Asian countries and for at least right now. I hate that you didn't leave me as you found me. Whole. Every morning I wake up I hope that you left me a text telling me you moved to a different state in the middle of the night. At times it seems that the entire state is just too small for the both us. I even hate that I just wasn't ghetto enough to tear your shit up myself. I hate that when you called to tell me I didn't respond with Fuck you and your precious Caddy.

But, what I hate most of all is that you got off lucky. See your windshield got shattered and although that is gonna cost you a nice chunk of change. I am still sweeping of the pieces of my shattered heart. I don't have the privilege of getting new one and acting like it never happened like you did with your windshield. Yea, I am glad she busted up your car.. just out of the sheer shallowness of it all. But, really it did little to nothing for my broken heart AND, I am sure it did little to nothing for her broken heart either.

I hope you get it together. If for no other reason..just so your ass can live. The wrong one can mess around and make you a bad Lifetime Movie. I have accepted the fact you will never change. But,I pray that I am wrong. Being a hoe and liar is just who you are. But,if somehow I am wrong. Try and do better.Live better. Be smarter. So you can have something to pass down to your beautiful children besides how to be an asshole.

....Me

Raise Your Hand If You A Grown Woman...urghh or Man

I am 35 +plus years old and I noticed lately that a new description of myself has popped up. I have been referred to as a grown woman. See I thought all this time I was a grown woman. You know I have lived a little all the usual things that grown folks do I have done. I have check marks next to marriage/divorce, buying/selling a house,good/bad credit ..jobs in management and raising kids all that. But, I had not yet earned my label of being a true "grown woman".

I am not to upset because it seems I am in good company. My favorite cut on Ms. M.ary J. B.lige's new CD "Breakthrough" is Grown Woman by her and Ludacris. Seems Mary has just earned her new label too.

So what makes us grown. Is it actual age.. you know the number? I don't think so. Is it life and it's experiences ? Not all the time.

I can speak to what made me grown. At least I think has made me grown.

Being grown is taking responsibilities for your actions good or bad.
It's learning how to make choices on fact and emotion. Not just emotion.
It's knowing when life is too big and too hard and that God is bigger than all that.
It's learning how to get on bended knee...everyday.
Being grown is thinking about someone other than yourself and meaning it.
It's knowing loving your kids it's always spoiling your kids and there is a such a thing as tough love.
It's knowing that sometimes you have to save yourself so that there is enough "self" to share with others.
Being grown is knowing finding someone to really love you is hard and, can not be taken lightly.
It's learning to love the biblical way.
Being grown is thinking about the future not just yours but, your children' and your children's children etc.. and making the right choices accordingly.
It's knowing some things really are best left unsaid.
AND...everything is worth praying over.
Being grown means accepting life's bumps and bruises while knowing this too shall pass.. fo real.
It's knowing, understanding, loving and caring the man in the mirror and seeing not what you see but, what God's see.
It's knowing your worth and , not accepting anything less.

Now of course, there is so many more definitions of being grown.
In fact I challenge you please..

Post for me in the comments "WHAT IS YOUR DEFINITION OF BEING GROWN".

Is it possible to be "WE" before I figure out"ME" ?

We have all heard the old adage... How can I love someone else if I don't love myself"?

How true is that really?

In the last few months I have been especially observant of how reckless we all can be with someone else's heart. It seems so easy to abuse the feelings of others. I wonder if some of that
stems from the abuse we do to ourselves.

Now a days everybody and their momma is suffering from low self esteem. There are pills,
counselors and support groups that exist to help solve this problem. Low self esteem has ended
lives, caused divorces and created wars. But, in the words of the comedian Katt Williams" Self esteem is your esteem of self. " We seem to go through life wanting someone else to help us
fix it to make us feel worthy of their love and worthy of ours.

I had a talk with a friend the other day and commented during our conversation that I didn't
think she was in love with her husband. Her response was "I am trying." When I the conversation ended I continue to think about her response of I am trying. Was the problem really her trying to love him or her trying to love herself to feel she was worthy of his love?

Self esteem is so fragile. It can be shattered so easy. In some of us easier than in others. It can also be hidden behind over self confidence and anger.

The purpose of self esteem in a relationship.. well good self esteem is to show the other person who you wish to be loved and vice versa. So much so that when I don't feel all that good about myself that I can see the good parts in my partner and remember who I can be or who I was whatever the case is.

My relationship of four years has recently ended(no I am not sure for how long). But, the underlining issues was self esteem. I had to much to allow certain behaviors to continue. He didn't have enough to see himself as the incredible person I saw him as. Minues the abuse and anger.

It goes back to the beginning statement. Maybe, I can 't really love someone else if I don't love myself. Because, well I simply cannot recognize real love.

For those of you who are in a relationship and you are struggling. It feels like Usher's new song like "Moving Mountains." Stop and take some time to work on yourself. The answer could lie wit h you and your "esteem of self"

In Sync

I had no idea how long I had been sitting there, quietly in the dark staring at him, watching him sleep. I don’t even remember what woke me up initially. Was it a sound in the house? Was it the absence of his skin against mind as he shuffled over to his side of the bed? I don’t know. But, there I was watching him sleep so soundly. The light from the moon shining in the window slightly up the room just enough for me to see the glistening of the ring on his third finger left hand. The room was still. It seemed that had stared at him so long that my breathing pattern now matched his. Noticing that my chest rose slightly when his did and fell along with his I thought we are perfectly in sync.

The thought made me laugh at myself and I whispered “Perfectly in sync”. Just then I looked down at my third finger left hand and watched as a glimpse moonlight flashed the diamond on my wedding band. Being perfectly in sync was the theme of today. There we were lying in bed together so in sync our breathing had the same rhythm ...same beat.

What had been a random joke for me over the past few years some had somehow become reality. I always joked and said that when I got married again it would be without fan fair or celebration. It would simply be a check on my list of things to do that day. You know get milk, go by the dry cleaners, buy cat and dog food, and oh yea get married.


At some point I know there had been some serious conversation leading up to today. But, I can‘t quite remember when the conversations stop being hypothetical and started becoming actual plans. The crazy part it was just as I had said it woudd be. It was simple, quiet and without fanfare.

No family just him and I exchanging vows, making promises, signing our names and going about our day. Well, not quite that matter of fact. We left the courthouse came home and changed for dinner. His sister, my sister in law dropped by but, neither one of us said a thing. I know she saw the rings but, she didn’t ask. She looked at me then him and smiled. Made up some about excuse about forgetting why she came by and left. I am sure to jump on the family super phone to tell everyone.

At dinner we talked about everything but the wedding. We talked about it but there was no giddiness, no rambles of all the plans that lay ahead of us. The only true reference all evening is when he asked me “What would you like to eat Mrs. Jennings.” Oddly, enough hearing him say that made me tear up but, I shook it off and rattled off my order.
We finished dinner off and headed home.

We made love and passed out as usual. But, here I was sitting up watching him sleep breathing in sync. Watching glistening rings with one thought running through my mind .

"What have I done”

Clinton gets the side eye

Clinton’s camp gets the major side eye for declaring they "are ready to throw in everything but the kitchen sink" OR if you ask me everything including the kitchen sink.

Clinton is past nervous and as my best friend said “ has become an angry black man” about winning Ohio and Texas. She needs these states to close the gap between her and Obama.

I am sure if she could hit Obama in the head with the kitchen sink she would be completely cool with that too. This woman is panic in motion and apparently has no problem showing just how desperate she is to win the nomination.

It causes me to think what kind of President would she be? How would she handle international conflict, making decisions (like going to war or coming out war) that may or may not be popular with the populace? You can’t throw the kitchen sink at everyone. All I can tell so far from Mrs. Clinton is she sweats under pressure and has no problem showing her claws if she feels like her back is against the wall. A typical girl fight move.

Clinton is pissed and scared at the same time and ready to break out into a full windmill on Obama’s head. I am gonna need Mrs. Clinton to not act like me on any given night at the club 4 Henny and apple juices in pissed off because the girl in the bathroom stall is taking to long so I start talking much shit about her and her friend with the bad weave.

Why must she be so ghetto. Why must I? (anyway)

Mrs. Clinton was even quoted saying to Obama “ meet me in Ohio, and let’s have a debate about your tactics and your behavior in this campaign” Isn’t this the equivalent to “meet me outside the club beyotch and we will see who can beat who’s ass” I guess al l that talking about Clinton being the first black President has some truth behind it. Clearly, Mrs. Clinton has picked up on some pimp game of her own. Bad pimp game. But, pimp game just the same.

Truth is, I feel that Hillary is running the chances for future women to run. Showing so much emotion and a clear evidence of her losing her grip does not look good for others that choose to follow in her foot steps.

As stated on T.he T.oday S.how this morning” she is showing true signs of desperation” Desperate doesn’t look good on any o

The Aftermath

Trina hated that time in their lives. All of it was bad at that time all the lies, the heartache the overall deception. She still struggled daily with the memories of it. The smallest things triggered it. It could be a song she would hear on the radio, a sad song that she used to console herself during that period. Sometimes she would find herself writing out a date on a form at work and her mind would flash back to where they were two years ago on that date. Other times it would be a conversation that started out innocent and somehow it takes a bad turn and they end up almost discussing that time back then. It was an instant mood changer for her it was like a car hitting a brick wall. Leaving just the pieces of the conversation and her heart e scattered on the floor as she abruptly walked away.

Tonight it was a simple trip to the movies.

“Babe” he said as he entered the room.
:
“The movie you want to see is only playing at the Regal show times are 8:00, 8:45..”

In her mind his voice trailed off. She didn’t hear anything past the words The Regal.
There she was stuck on memories of rumors of him being seen there with her. Then the questions began. What theatre did they sit in? How many times had they gone there with out her knowing? What did they order from concessions? Did they hold hands in the movie? Does she talk during the movies? There she was lost once again stuck in the middle of all that pain.

“Babe” did you hear me?

“Huh” she replied.

“The movie. At The Regal? The show times? Did you hear anything I said?” She could hear the irritation in his voice.

She looked over at him and instantly his face changed and he dropped the paper on the floor.

“T, we can’t do this forever. How long will I be on probation? “

Good question she thought. But, she responded with “But, I didn’t say anything.”
She smile a weak half ass smile at him.

“No, but your face says it all. We have to get to the point when that doesn’t overshadow everything that goes on in this house. How long are you going to slap me in the face because I .” he stopped there.

“Because, you cheated? You want me to get past it. But, you can’t even say it.”

“I can say it. I am tired of saying it. I am trying my best. Trina if I didn’t want to be here.”

“Yes, I know” she interrupted. “You wouldn’t be here.”

“Look, I am fine. Pick whatever time and I will be ready to go. I am fine, we are fine and it’s all fine to me” Trina stood up and walked over to Alonzo, kissed him gently on the lips. Leaned back and smiled. “I said we are good. I was thinking about something completely different. You miss read my expression. I am going up stairs to get ready. Holla, when it’s time to leave”

“Humph” he sighed.

Trina’s eyes welled up with tears the second her foot hit the bottom stair. She quickly wiped her eyes just in case he was watching her walk up the stairs. If he saw her crying it would open up a whole can of worms and evening of rehashing of every last detail. A conversation she just did not want to have again.

Just as Trina hit the top stairs he calls out to her.

“Trina.” He shouts. She stops and stands still.

“Yea” She shouts back.

“I really love you”

“Humph” she responds quietly and closes the bedroom door behind her.
.

An evolving author.

I love to write. If you hadn't noticed. Which is the number one reason I started this blog.

Although, the world provides plenty of juicy material to write about. I often struggle with
airing my perspective on it all.

So I sat down and thought what is it that I really want to do with my blog? I want to write.
PERIOD.

So I am going to do just that. You may get an occasional post of my latest soap box tyrant.
But, I really want to dust off my writing brain and starte sharing with you bits and pieces
of my literary world.

Feel free to comment. Some of the entries my be consistent stories. Some may just be short scenes that are on my mind as I see them right then and there.

Please bear with me while I find my way. If you I write about something you want more of let me know that too.

Who knows maybe this will inspire my first novel.

Thanks

ME

What do you do when it just dont fit???

We have all face the challenge of out growing things we love. Our favorite pair of Express jeans. That cute polo you held on to from the 12th grade that was once baggy but now grabs your boobs pushing them together and makes them look school girl sexy. The strappy funk me sandals you wore to the club before you had the kids. Now they hurt and although you can actually put them on and wear them as long as no walking is involved. As we out grow things we love we eventually come to peace with them and get new things we may not love as much but they fit. We get new jeans that fit better in the right places with a higher waist and a little more but room. We give up the polo that looks like a baby shirt and replace it with a respectable work appropriated sexy but authorative button down. My point is we move on.

But, what do we do when we outgrow our relationships. When all of sudden for reasons you can't recall the two you just don't fit. You try to figure out who out grew who and when did it happen.
Just like your favorite jeans weren't you just great together a week ago. Now, you are uncomfortable and although you can squeeze into it and make it look like it fits something doesn't feel ...well quite right. Everyday interactions at times feel forced and uncomfortable like when you try to sit down in those now to small jeans.

I still have my favorite Express jeans. Occasionally when a busy life and poor eating habits get the best of me I can wear them. The bliss is temporary I get a couple good wearings. I think I look hot and about the third attempt I have to suck in to try to button them. I fold them up and back in the closet on the shelve they go. Sometimes I even take them out to reminense about all the great times we had. Hmmm..

Relationships are like your old polo or your jeans. When you out grow them it is properly permanent. Since I haven't amde my decision or accepted it. I guess I will keep trying this relationship on to see if it's really tight in the hips and snug on the butt until there is no denying to either one of us it just don't fit anymore. For either one of us.

HAPPINESS IS A MOVING TARGET

This morning "T.he T.oday S.how" did a piece on happiness. Basically, they had a panel of three people representing three phases of life your 20's,30's and40' s+. Each one gave an argument on the challenges and the possibilities to finding happiness.

The panel surmised that happiness is easier to find after 35 because the closer you get to 40 you just accept that some dreams aren't coming true. You come to accept the challenges that life has thrown your way and you learn the art in finding happiness in simpler things. Sounds like a trip to pleasant hills retirement home to me. One panelist went on to say that marriages are more challenged as you get older because the spark and desire is gone. You are just two old married folks but, affects happiness. In the end what I got from that is happiness is a moving target.

Jennifer Lopez is on the cover of this month's Harper Bazaar. In the article she talks about her life being private now something she learned from her current husband of three years, Marc Anthony. She also said that after two years straight of being in the tabloids she has learned to value pieces of life she can keep for herself like her pregnancy. What I read ( in between the lines) is she is happy. Jennifer is now 38.

The one thing the panel on "T.he T.oday S.how" never mentioned was peace. I believe through my own experiencing happiness comes with peace. Once you come to peace with the person in the mirror scars and all, the road that life has brought you on and the fact that you can actually choose what road you take. You find happiness.

It's hard to find happiness in your 20's you are still sorting out who you are and who you think you are. Measure that against who other people are telling you that you are. Well, that leads to a lot of angst. Not much happiness. All that youthful energy keeps you bound up and riled up. I watch Casanova Brown 10yrs my junior and sometimes I feel sad for him. Although, he has grown a lot in the last six months or so. I can see the makings of man. I also see the struggle of his youth. Still easily riled up. Still struggling with who he wants to be and the image that others have created for him that he feels obligated to live up to. Me. I don't care. You begin to stop caring at 30 by the time you hit 35 you realize that life has way to many challenges for you to add to it. By 37/38 you have been through enough that pieces of life you have survived and the moments of contentment you can experience is worth it's weight in goal. You find peace where you can because in those peaceful times you find happiness. Real happiness. Not associated with bank balances or material possessions. I think that is where Jennifer is.

I disagree with the "T.oday S.how" panelist who said as you get closer to 40 you give up on some of your dreams and you are okay with that. I believe you are able to identify which dreams are truly your own. Which ones will impact your life in the right way and those are the dreams that you pursue.

As far as being unhappy in your marriage. Well,I am not married officially. But, I can say this. I have a peace with my relationship that Casanova Brown doesn't have yet. I have let go of the school girl wishes of will he love me forever, analyzing his every actions and every word. I am ok with being honest with him about my needs and where he misses them. In addition, I don't feel like I have to apologize for the way I love someone or afraid that my love is not enough. I trust God that he will guide me in the area of the heart and the same time I pray I heed his direction when he provides them. I make no excuses for my body or my sexual desire. I don't sugarcoat how and where I want it. When trouble hits I don't brew and analyze it to death.Lately, I find myself working it out in my head and heart then letting him know where I am coming from.
I love him and us. But, can also accept that there may be a day when neither may exist.

I think all that is happiness. .. and peace. Everyday isn't happy. But, everyday I have happy moments. Really the goal is the happy moments to out weight the bad moments. Of course what made me happy today may not make me happy tomorrow. That's ok too. I don't have to make excuses for that either.

I should write "T.he T.oday S.how" and suggest the next time they do a segment on happiness they should have a panel of people who are actually experiencing it.