I've Been Dumped Without an Explanation

I've Been Dumped Without an Explanation
Follow A Comeaux @KCOSpoke on Twitter.

Pardon My Transparency

By A Comeaux

Consider this my ode to rare form.

This is usually the season of two things: raging hormones I affectionately call my mating season where any and everything is ‘fire in the pants for me’.

Like, literally everything looks good enough to eat. This can be detrimental as I take willing bouts of celibacy with no bingeing predecessor or warning.

While I may date, trust and try love out, it typically ends in an abrupt death of communication. Everyone’s here at will so its fine. But how do you know ‘why’ someone left with no explanation? In my seasoned years I’ve learned that, I, too have done this. To good guys, to a nice catch and my excuse was timing. I owed them an explanation but felt they’d get it, stop calling and fade to black.

Now here I am.

Second time in two years looking for a ‘why’ and ‘what happened?’ Except I’m crying and confused. This time I lost more than a few hours away from #mySun. I had a movement I swore by since my last love-attempt mishap. I was to protect my energy, my light (as I do my panties) and heart, sexy lust tricks I do well. I was to keep them all to myself. Until…

My pieces were collected.                          

There was one who held my heart and the fetishes and desires that danced around its core. And the one who knew my body in another language outside of English. The one who tapped into the mogul in me, inspiring me to keep writing, speak to nations and pursue every desire to see if the vision feels as good in person. That was my mind always with this lover. Another I had at my discretion for outings, events and time on the town. Simply looked good together with great chemistry that was never altered. One for each emotion. One never on the toe of the other. A cohesive collection of confusion.

I want nothing more than someone I can believe in. Someone I can trust with my life and the life God entrusted to me.

At this stage, I recognize is rare form, I know what I want and no less will do.

Ladies, collect your pieces. Forget their loft, the boat and the brand. What you have to offer and what you desire is far more valuable. Believe and execute it. 

I’m A Comeaux and I’m in rare form with tears in my eyes and certainty when I say I’m collecting my pieces…again.

A Comeaux is the writer, speaker and actor who poetically paints pictures of life and love with a paradoxical perspective. Follow her on Twitter @KCOSpoke

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