Lucky No. 7

11:17pm

I just realized something.

While sitting, thinking about my past "loves" which were really likes, lusts, conquests and defeats, trying my best to remember every "oooh" and "ahhh" that brought me closer to what I thought would and should be love, thinking about the nonchalance of that summer day to the cool and calculating night of two can play that game, what they meant to me at the time, every emotion from unadulterated joy in knowing that I got him where I want him to the deepest, darkest melancholy blue melodies, seeing that look on his face when he realizes I'm a bad, bad chick or the double take when I pass him by for what he hopes isn't the last time... with all these thoughts and numbers and dates running thru my head; first phone conversations to last text messages, I realized something.



Drew is the black man I've always wanted.


He lifts me up, always. he picks me up when I'm too gone to stand on my own. he compliments my personality in his exact oppositeness. When I cry, he doesn't get scared. When I laugh, he doesn't get insecure. when I shine, he glows. he's not afraid to talk about the future. he's a man without being an asshole. he's sensitive without being a punk. If I have a need, he has made it his MISSION to meet it. he fills out a boxer brief, rocks a button down, and sags his jeans just right.. he loves me so good, so well, so complete...


he is more than ANY of them will ever be.