That Can’t Sleep Love

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This weirdest feeling came over me this morning. It was 6:47 A.M. so I know I’d snoozed my alarm about 6 time. I groaned into my pillow at the thought of getting out the bed, regret filling me for staying up too late watching Netflix. Then it happened. I looked through blurry eyes over to my right and glanced at the face of my boyfriend, who was snoring away. My eyes moved from his closed eyes to his slightly parted lips. I took in how calmly his chest rose and fell and the way his snores were powerful yet soft. I took in how his hair brushed the top of his forehead, back and forth slowly in the gusts from the fan. I took in all this and, at damn near 7 A.M. in the morning, I once again realized I loved this man. 

Sure we’ve both established that we love each other but this was different. This was stronger. This literally filled my entire being and took my breath away. This was fucking terrifying. In those short moments, I realized this man meant so much to me. I’ve had so many sappy moments in my head all last month, each one fighting its way out of my brain and trying to escape through my words. I wanted to say so many disgustingly cute things to him but my breath would always catch and my words would die in my throat. Today I’ve decided that I’m going to stop that and say what I need to say. 

Right now I am at work and I’ve never been more distracted in my life. I keep thinking about little things and I’ve had this big, stupid grin on my face. It’s so dumb but so amazing at the same time. I’ve never felt this way before  and I never want to lose this feeling. Everyone should feel this way, always. 

I’ve always thought I know what love was growing up but I realize now that I was only creating a fantasy love that wasn’t there in any of my past relationships. Not to be mean, but they were insignificant but needed at the same time. I learned so much, and though I was hurt, it was necessary. They prepared me for what I have now. 

So to conclude my little mush fest of a post, I’d like to finally get a few things off my chest on what I love. It’s only here for me to finally get the courage to say these things:

  1. I love that you let me be myself.
  2. I love that you accept my good and my bad
  3. I love that you bring me into your world, whether it’s through music, movies or food
  4. I love that you take my feelings into account on everything 
  5. I love that you don’t shame me for how much I eat or what I wear
  6. I love that you took the initiative to get to know my family and in return let me bond with yours 
  7. I love that you have made me love my body more in the last 6 months than I have in the last 25 years of my life 
  8. I love that you call me beautiful when no other man had 
  9. I love that you look at me like I’m the best thing ever when you open your eyes in the morning 
  10. I love that you have restored my faith in what a father should be just by loving your sons unconditionally.
  11. Finally, I love that you are you. No more, no less. 

Once again, I think everyone should feel this way. Its disgusting. Its sappy. Yet it’s the best feeling you can ever feel. 

They Might Be Giants

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Every four years, I closely follow the Olympics. It is something that is second nature to me. I watch it for the sports. I watch it for the thrill. I watch it for people, the reactions and the entire feeling. Most of all, I watch it because I can never get over my amazement. I am in awe every time. These people are beautiful. They are the pure personification of passion and dedication. I can never imagine putting my entire life into something and just going for it without a second thought. Most of these people have been training since childhood. This is something that drives them to wake up every morning. Its simply unbelievable.

It was this morning when my feelings overflowed. I was scrolling through Buzzfeed, as I always do when I’m bored, and I couldn’t help but click on a link containing some of the most powerful images of day one. I actually felt tears well up as I scrolled through each image. First off, the photography was beautiful. Each athlete was captured in their purest form. There was nothing else for them in that moment but what they were going for. Each photo depicted a loss, a win or just pure teamwork and sportsmanship. One photo stuck with me the most. The photo of Japanese swimmer Kosuke Hagino was so powerful to me. It was simple, but you can see the joy displayed all over his face. With eyes shut tight and a huge smile on his face, he was a ball of joy with a fist raised high.

On a sadder note, watching the video of French gymnast Samir Said as he broke his leg and (quite possibly) his dreams was horrifying. I watched this last night on my phone and the moment I heard and SAW the snap of his leg, my phone hit the floor. This pained me more than anything because I have a sibling who is struggling with this. My brother was amazing in whatever he did, especially football. That was his dream, hope and motivation every day. The day I received the news that he had broken his leg during a football game, I was devastated. That meant everything he worked so hard for would be taken away from him. Oddly enough, I have hope for those who have none. I have hoped for my brother to fully recover and get back to what he loves since that day, and I hope the same for Said. Somehow I believe Said feels the same for himself.

Despite how bad his injury was, Said was waving at the audience from the stretcher like a champ.

Buzzfeed / Scott Halleran / Getty Images

Some people feel envious of these athletes. Hell, I think should feel jealous too, but no. All I feel is a sense of empowerment.They put in work almost everyday. They literally put in blood, sweat and tears. This is nothing to be jealous of. This should motivate everyone. So I may never get to their level, but I can someday move my own mountains and change my life along the way.

Solo Nerd Day #1: Success

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Yesterday, I decided to get out of the apartment and have a Shay Day and I must say, it was pretty damn awesome. The theme for the day came to me after spending all morning scrolling through, commenting and liking posts on The Extraordinary Journey of A Black Nerd group on Facebook. After immersing myself in anime, superheroes and just plain nerdness, I was ready. I did my hair and looked cute as hell. I put on my favorite superhero shirt (The Flash obviously). I was excited.


Once I felt cute as shit, I packed my bag with all the necessary equipment for my day: my tablet for reading my books on the Kindle app and scrolling through Buzzfeed, a physical book because nothing beats the real thing, and my journal in case some form of inspiration came to me. 

All packed and ready to go, I got my life and walked out the door. I had a full schedule planned but the first place on my list was obviously going to be the best place for a bookworm.


I settled there and ordered some food and a drink and actually felt more relaxed than I’d been in a long time. I didn’t feel watched. I was at peace. I sipped my drink and read my book while the voices of Kid Fury and Crissle of The Read podcast spoke truth in my ears. 


I spent a heavenly 2 hours there, accepting compliments on my hair, chilling around cool, nice people and enjoying a delicious lunch, before the sounds of thunder had me scurrying back to my car and to the apartment. The minute I walked through the door, I went upstairs and turned on my PS4 and started playing my new video game. I wouldn’t say new though. It’s just new to me now since I haven’t played it since I was 11. 


After a bit of that, I went back downstairs and turned on my Big Lots Polaroid speaker (best $15 I’ve ever spent) and listened to some more of my podcasts while I worked on some birthday gifts. 


I stopped in the midst of crocheting and went and fetched myself a glass of cranberry juice and some vanilla yogurt before starting my next project: part one of my mom’s birthday gift. Starting this project made me so happy since I know how much she wants this blanket and I’m going to feel so excited to give it to her. 


Before long, I realized that my day was now night and the living room was darkening. I would say my Nerd Day was such a success and I felt very much accomplished at the fact that my entire day was filled with activities catered just to me. 

I advise everyone to just have a day just for them. You’ll never forget the feeling. 

Way Too Close To Home

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Every year I joke to others that in my neighborhood, it’s hard to tell the difference between fireworks and gunshots. Sure I’m joking but at the same time there is pure truth in my statement. My neighborhood has been home to shoot outs, cops visiting on a nighty basis and as of July 5th at 12:35 A.M., people dying from police shootings. 

I unfortunately didn’t hear about this horrible situation until later the next day while I was at work. My co-worker had the video up on her phone from Facebook and as I watched the footage, my chest constricted and my eyes began to water. I didn’t know what to feel. I have seen and heard stories like this all over the news from different parts of the country but it changes things when it’s directly in your backyard. This shooting occurred not even 10 minutes from my home. It is terrifying to know that I was just in that area just hours before it all occurred. 

As I write this, there are tears falling from my eyes after watching Sterling’s wife give a news conference over the death of her husband. What hurt the most was watching Sterling’s 15-year old son grieve openly over the loss of his father. I am in so much pain for this family. I saw a lot of comments saying “He shouldn’t have been out there”, “He had a gun” and “He was resisting arrest”. I can’t say anything about those things. I wasn’t out there. I wasn’t there. I do not have the facts. What we do have is a video showing two cops shoot a man six times in the chest while he was pinned to the ground. Why must they shoot to kill? Was it necessary to do that? Did that not seem excessive? Regardless of race, does a person in that position just stop being a human being to them to where they have to be gunned down like animals? 

My sadness is turning into anger because I am tired. I am sick and tired of turning on the news and seeing horrific images and heartbreaking videos of yet another life lost or ruined in this country. I get sick every time a picture of someone’s son or daughter, mother or father, wife or husband is shown on my television screen. I can never escape the pain because of social media, news apps and random updates. It’s like a constant reminder that I should never forget. It reminds me that I have never felt 100% safe at any time in my life. I hate that I actually have to watch myself and do the exactly the right thing. I actually fear getting pulled over or randomly stopped. My heart speeds up whenever I see a cop car. This should not be something I feel from those who keep me safe. I don’t blame them all as a good portion of my family and extended family is in the force but I do not respect the ones who abuse the power they have. It’s sickening that they have the power to do so much good yet they choose to misuse and abuse it. 

In the aftermath of this hellish event, I just want my city to do the right thing. Say what you have to say. Make your voices heard. Don’t bottle up your pain. Stand together as one and show unity. Don’t let Alton Sterling’s name be just another memory. Help his family get through this by being proactive and get them the justice they deserve. 

May God be with them and my entire city. We will get through this and persevere.  

The Little Things

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At one point in my life, I used to think that expressing love and affection required grandeur gestures and lots of words. I’ve learned now that is pure bullshit. The little things can make a bigger impression than anything else could. This has been proven day after day for me. I’ve compiled a small list of the little things I experience everyday that make me feel like I’m on cloud 9.

  1. A kiss to the back of my hand while we watch tv or when we’re riding in the car. It’s so tender and its makes my heart speed up every time it happens
  2. The way he uses the words “nerd” and “weird” as terms of endearment. Thank you for accepting that I’m in no way, shape or form normal
  3. The lingering kiss he trails from my earlobe to my neck to my shoulder. I can’t even begin to explain the list things that short kiss does to me.
  4. The way he pushes his finger to my lips when my short attention span kicks in during a really important part of a tv show I’m supposed to be paying attention to. I promise I’m not doing that on purpose.
  5.  The fact that he remembers my favorite beer or food item and randomly buys it for me without me asking.
  6. The way he smoothly slides his hand into mine when we’re walking side by side.
  7. When he knows that I’ll always want the bigger portion when we eat, whether its breakfast, lunch or dinner. I’m a proud, little glutton.
  8. The way his hands always find themselves in my hair, even when its an absolute mess.
  9. The way his eyes darken when he stares me straight in the eyes when he’s about to go in for a kiss. My breath always stops when his eyes catch mine.
  10. When he grabs my hands to crack my thumbs. I dont’ know why he does this but I absolutely love it.
  11. The fact that he’ll willingly rewatch his favorite tv shows just to experiece them with me.
  12. The way he’s not afraid to show that I’m his in public. Just a little kiss here, a simple ass grope there lol.
  13. The simple kiss to the forehead he nonchalantly gives me when I’m not expecting it. It’s so damn sweet that I can’t help the goofy grin that comes to my lips when he does it.

These are most of my favorite things he does for me. These are the reasons he’s on my mind 75% of the day (honestly I’m thinking of food the other 25% haha). He may not think I pay attention these little things he does but trust me I do, and they make me so happy.These moments are so special to me and make me feel like the most treasured person when I’m with him.

Just A Little Bit At A Time 

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It’s has been 4 months since I’ve accidentally changed some of my bad habits. The biggest habit I kicked to the curb was the way I ate and what I ate. I didn’t stop eating bad altogether but I replaced a lot of the bad with better food. I didn’t believe people at first when they mentioned that I was getting smaller but I noticed it about a month ago. It came so suddenly and its left me confused. How does one feel when they get smaller. Sure I’m happy but I’m also conflicted. It’s like I’m looking at a whole new me. 

The picture below is from exactly one week ago and when I took it, I just stared at the picture in awe. For once, I was actually pretty happy with what I saw. It wasn’t even with me getting smaller. It was the pure confidence I exuded from that photo. The pout, the pose, yes lawd. I felt everything from my one selfie. 


It’s been a week later and I still feel like I’m walking on air. That was the first time I’d ever worn a bikini in front of others and been truly comfortable. Even when I was young and way smaller, I never felt right in my skin when I wore one. I love how time changes things.

I still don’t believe in the change in my body sometimes and I have to sometimes remind my self with pictures. It may seem conceited of me but they’re not for others. They’re truly for me to prove to myself that I did change. 


The change wasn’t all physical. It was also emotional and spiritual. I actually feel better about life. Not saying was depressed before, but I definitely wasn’t completely happy either. Each morning I wake up, I actually smile and its so cliche. I actually feel excited to put on cute clothes and wear the bare minimum (not saying I couldn’t before). I can walk around in my underwear and feel like the queen of the world. Even naked, I feel so empowered. I can’t help but stare at my body every chance I get (I advice everyone to do this every once in a while). I just feel amazing, all day, every day. 


I have goal in mind for my body. I’m not losing any weight just to shed pounds for anyone. I’m actually dropping the pounds to find that girl I once was over a decade ago. I want to fully gaze upon her and try to figure out how I never saw her before. What was obscuring my vision so badly that I refused to believe she existed. All I can say is that I’m coming for her and she better be ready when I knock down that door. 

Simple Things: Waking Up

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*Simple Things posts are a small idea I came up with to put words to small actions I do that I seem meaningless. I want to show the beauty of the simple things in life. Enjoy.*

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I wake up, feeling sluggish and disorientated, to the sound of my favorite song spilling from my phone. Using muscle memory, I put my phone on snooze by pressing the volume down button and turn over. My consciousness slips further into the world of sleep, for 8 minutes. Sure that is a weird number, but I am a strange person truthfully. After exactly 40 minutes of snoozing, I bring myself to wake mode. It is a slow and fulfilling process.

My bed is the width of your standard couch. My bed is a couch. My couch is made of leather and I have strategically tucked a blanket into the cushions as a makeshift mattress cover. This is what the exposed skin of my legs and arms brush against as I stretch out. My toes slide down the arm of the couch, making small squeaking sounds as they catch against the leather.

I perform a symphony composed of only the percussion of my popping joints as I stretch out. I’d like to believe it sounds like “The Entertainer”. Unladylike grunts turn into impure groans of ecstasy as my spinal cord brings forth the crescendo of the calcium sonata.

My left foot always touches the roughness of my rug first as I turn over on my stomach, pressing my face back into the pillow. My pillow smells like mangoes and the underlying scent of hair products, letting me know my hair did not dry much in my sleep as half the wetness is trapped in the cotton beneath my nose. I breathe in and out and my nose scrunches up against said pillow as the stench of the pork chop I guiltily devoured only hours before hits my nasal cavities.

My right foot joins its twin and I am now kneeling next to the couch, seemingly praying. Oh what a prayer I would give in the hope of more sleep. My face is now pressed into the “mattress” and without warning I shoot up in a lame attempt to wake myself. It’s lame but it works. I perform a series of scratches – stomach, back, face, left ass check – as I walk to the coffee pot. Yes, the coffee pot, not the bathroom. Sure my bladder probably looks like one of those cartoon renditions of a boiler about to blow, but coffee man. Coffee! Once the coffee pot is turned on, I run with the coordination of a half-sleep person to the bathroom, forgoing closing the door because I am alone. Morning to afternoon is my time in the house. As my bladder empties, my forehead is pressed against the cold porcelain of the sink that is entirely too close to the toilet. I reach my right hand back and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, placing them on the side of the sink and further showing how small my bathroom space is. I finish my business, flush and wash my hands before I start the brushing process. I brush my teeth in the same way I’ve done for years: top front, bottom front, bottom back top, bottom back front and back, top back top, top back front and back, front back, bottom back, tongue, repeat 5 times. Then I sit on the floor and breath for 2 minutes. I breathe because sometimes you have to find the time to do so.

I enter the kitchen and I am happily assaulted by the smell of caffeine. I pour a cup, placing only one spoon of sugar, and place it to the side. As it cools, I fill the sink with water and soap. My morning routine is to wash the dishes from the night before. Sure we could wash them the night before, but old habits die hard. As the sink fills up, I go back to the living room and fold my blankets up and transform my bed back into a couch. Once finished, I walk back and turn off the water and wash up all 6 dishes and the huge pot that is usually in there. As the water runs out the sink when I’m done, I grab my coffee and a piece of bread – no not toast – and head back into the living room. I grab the remote and press 33, smiling when the sounds of The Amazing World of Gumball hit my ears. On the other end of the “jump” button, Supernatural reruns are ready to be watched. If you are pathetic like I am, you will now that it is around 10 AM. I take my first sip of coffee, still hot and bitter, and fall back on the couch, immersing myself into the world of a misunderstood blue cat and two brothers trying to rid the world of evil.