Felt like it to me. Deeper than a poem written by Maya Angelou. Deeper than the tattoos in my skin. Or the fungus in my big toe. Deeper than the stretch marks engraved in my gutt. When I fall in love, I fall hard and deep into a pool of love's gushiness. I did all I could (in my mind) to make my man (when I have one) happy and to feel how deep my love is/was/whatever. Mines was deep enough that I spent 9 hours coming and 9 hours going on the Amtrak each month to see a mofo just for a weekend. Was the butt of countless jokes from my sisters, because he was beneathe my "standards" of who I normally date. I even cooked and cleaned.
*i'm NOT a domestic goddess, so that was MAJOR for me*
Me, being the man-crazy freak that I am, the chick who fucked and flirted with any penis that humped through, shut shit DOOOOOOOOWN!!! I was serious about my relationship! Serious enough to damn near contemplate putting ole boy on my lease, handing him over a key and living in sinful, fornicating bliss.
This close to erasing every number of my male sex buddies in my phone. Deleted my tagged and onlinebootycall accounts. Hell, I almost deleted my facebook.
{GASPS}
So deep, that even though dude had the dick the size of a tootsie roll, I kissed him on the cheek and I said, "its okay, Boo. LeeLee lubs you and your little nub. Its not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean. Papercuts hurt too, so get ova here and rock my world!"
*okay, I may have embelished just a tad, but you get the idea*
6 comments:
That's Deep love for sure...
Gurl yes!
So dude was hung like a squirrel and yet you still cared?!? Wow, that's love.
Ikr
SAY dat shit, Lee! LMAO I love it!
Love will make you compromise...
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