One Blood Shots

Letter Lover

Dear My Love,
As I sit here writing this letter, I want you to know I haven't forgotten your love language. I understand things have separated us, like my actions and thoughts, but I still love you. But I can still remember that day when I was carried away, but I was guilty. I was guilty of the crime. I watched for four months her take your love, Attention, and DEDICATION from me, and I couldn't handle that. I missed the way you kissed me at night, the way you loved me through my pain, I missed the romance, I missed breakfast in the morning. Speaking of those mornings, breakfast started to become a battleground, I would end up pouring coffee on your head, or dumping glass to the floor, because for some reason you always said something so stupid, starting an argument. Day after day, I forgave it all before I went to bed and always gave you a clean slate, but every morning you dredged up the past, causing me to react. So, when I saw her, I got the axe.

       In that room that day, things we black for me. It brought back all the hurt, lies, and deceit, and my blood boiled like a mad black woman. It was so funny how I caught you in the act. Funny, the world knew before I did, because you were famous. That's another thing too, you got too famous, it all went to your head. You called yourself the head, got in your head, tried to instill it in my head, and it actually got in my head, that's why I allowed the mental torture so long. I heard her call out your name from our four walls and your body responded from the depths of your heart. You growled in her ears sweet words I haven't heard this entire year, and it was six months into a new one. So what I was supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? Regardless, of what I did and say, YOU DID NOT STOP. I cried to you, YOU DID NOT STOP. I made breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, YOU DID NOT STOP. I called for you when you body needed and wanted you, YOU DID NOT STOP. I made love to myself over and over again, every time I would yearn from you, hoping one day you would come through, but it got old, and after confessing my desires to you, YOU DID NOT STOP.

   It's like she knew my position, and she didn't care. It's like she did it on purpose. She called your name on purpose. After fifteen years together, and thirteen married, these three months have brung out have taken me through more emotions that I've ever experienced in them 13 years of marriage.

    As she bled and screamed, the noise worked for me. And I finally got it, why you loved how she said your name.

Signed,
The Letter Love

To:

J_ _ _ _ _