Browsing: Dear Letters

Dear Broke Ass Dude

June 8th, 2008 | By

Dear Broke Ass Dude

I meet you in the club last week, and you had it going on. Your kicks were shining, your ear was blinging and you was buying drinks for everybody. I’m a cautious girl, so I sit back and watch.

As you pulled out your dough, I never saw or heard the jingle of car keys. That was the first sign. You had game and you spit it tight. Not tight enough for me but you got up in my girls ear.

I watched as a group of girls formed staring her down. They weren’t coming after her to fight for you, they were laughing knowing what she was getting into.

Your boy made it over to me. He wasn’t as flashy as you, and he didn’t run game. He liked to watch just like me. The waitress came over and asked if we wanted a drink. He offered me one but declined one for himself.

I knew the look on his face. I knew it was the beginning of the month and rent was due. I bought him a drink and let him pay for mine. You laugh, out loud, as if there is some shame in paying your bills on time.

Dear Broke Ass Dude

If you weren’t flashin that little bit of dough in your pocket my girl wouldn’t be on you. She run game like that. If you got pussy on the regular you wouldn’t be so pressed to show out. If you had an dignity you wouldn’t be leaving cause yo boy drove you here.

So one week later. I visit your boy. His house isn’t decorated like a PIMP, but he got a house in his name. He don’t drive an Escalade, but his car gets him were he needs to go. He doesn’t have a closet full of name brand clothes, but he looks damn good when he’s getting ready for work in the morning. Believe me I know.

My girl told me about you though. She had to come and pick you up from yo mama house. She said walking through the backyard to get to the basement was cute. She ghetto like that.

She told me you had every pair of Jordans’ that ever came out. She also found the envelope of money yo mama left you. Yeah, she left it, my girl got sticky fingers though.

She told me how your mama came home and broke up yall bump and grind. Church let out early and you forgot to cut the grass before everybody came over for dinner. She also told me how everyone in your family was asking for the money you owe.

Dear Broke Ass Dude

Realize nobody wants you. You cry that all women are foul, the truth is no real woman would fuck with you. She would rather struggle with a man, than have momentary spending splurges followed by the McDonald Dollar Menu.

So the next time that fly ass girl turns you down without even hearing you out, don’t call her a bitch. Realize it’s because your a Broke Ass Dude.

Dear Friend: Letter 1

June 5th, 2008 | By

I watch you struggle. You work so hard, but I can give you no pity. I can’t give you any more advice. My words are harsh and get worse with each exchange.

I ask you the same questions:

Where is he?
I don’t know
When was the last time you seen him?
Monday morning when he dropped off my car and borrowed $20.
He got his license back?
Then why did he have your car?
He went out with the boys Friday
Friday? And he’s just bringing your car back?
Okay. Well what you doin?
I’m about to go and pick up some money
He finally giving you some money?
No! I’m borrowing some from my Aunt
Why are you borrowing money if you can give him money?
I don’t want to talk about it
Okay! Well what do you want to talk about?
I got new pictures of the kids. You should see them. They look just like their daddy. I bought them all new outfits for the pictures.
He showed up to take pictures?
Naw. He couldn’t make it, but they look so cute anyway
What color dress did you get?
I just wore my old black dress. You know I can’t afford clothes for myself

And then I lose it. I cuss and fuss and make you cry. I do it because I care but I only hurt you. I don’t like hurting you. Unlike him, I get no pleasure in seeing you in pain.

You love him more than you love yourself. Unfortunate.

You love him more than you love your kids. Unacceptable.

They’re watching him treat you like dirt, the same way you once watched. I know you. Inside there is a strong woman and when she’s ready to come out, I’ll get the alcohol and Orange Juice.

Until then, I have to walk away. I can’t hurt you on purpose. You’ll probably resent me for turning my back when you need me most, but I love you so much I can’t watch you hurt and then contribute to it.

Call me when you need the pieces put back together. I won’t look down on you for loving hard, nor will I blame you for following you heart. I look forward to that moment.

Until then………

Dear Lover: Letter 1

June 5th, 2008 | By

Dear Lover

I began our relationship with hopes of forever. I saw in you, MAGIC. You weren’t perfect, neither was I, but together we made sense. Where I was weak you made me strong, and I gave every bit of strength I had to you, without asking.

Now I find it difficult to see any magic. Where I once trusted you with my heart, I now cry above the broken pieces. Where I once cradled you in my soul, now echos with emptiness. Where I once held thoughts of a future, now pulses pain in my brain.

So what to do?

Shall I continue on or should I bail out? I pose this question to you. What will you do to get me to stay?

Let me answer. You don’t care, because I need you more than you need me. I’ve heard it a thousand times, You don’t care, but I stay.

So Dear Lover

I’ve found my self worth, and it’s worth more than you give. So I’ll walk away, with nothing but what I came with, and I’ll cry. I’ll want you back. I’ll think I need you back, but I’ll remember your words.

Your words, that once sparked magic, will now reinforce my self worth. Your words will become seeds that grow my self-confidence.

So thank you Lover

From you I’ve learned so much about myself. I don’t need you. I need to love myself enough to throw you aside.

I do love you. I just love me more.