Around Their Hearts
Made with bricks from other men.
And I see men like me
on the other side of these walls.
Trying to get in.
And the only thing that’s stopping us is them.
Is him.
And he isn’t even here.
But he left you this wall,
So guys like me can’t make it over to catch the tears.
Because they still fall.
Because it’s been over a year
and he still hasn’t called.
And you don’t know if you miss love, or him.
All you’ll know is that right now,
you could use a friend.
But the same wall that protects you from him
Keeps me out too.
Meanwhile you’re on the other side.
And you can’t remember
that last time that you made love,
Or cried.
All you know is that this wall
is what protects you from the demons.
From the liars
Who take a perfectly good woman
and set her soul on fire,
Then leave for no reason.
A woman with a wall up must learn amnesia,
Or buy a ladder
If she ever hopes to be rescued.
Because no matter how much he could love you,
He can never let you.
So, the next time you look at your wall,
See what it’s made of.
You’ll realize that the whole thing was made up.
A woman
Is only going to be as strong
As the things
She gets through.
If at every opportunity
That life gives you
To let something go,
You choose
To hold on tighter,
The only thing
You’re really hurting
Is yourself.
The Promise
Let what we build here
Stand the tests of time,
The tests of this crazy world,
And the tests of love.
In your darkest of moments,
When you can’t seem to find
the shade of makeup
to magnify your melanin,
When the only thing more confusing
than your past
is your future
And the presents
aren’t coming in fast enough…
I pray that you will always find your way to
either the mall
Or my arms.
Because anything your money can’t buy
A good man will make you feel
like you don’t even need.
Together we will conquer
anything life throws at us.
Use me.
To heal whichever part of your soul hurts.
To fill whatever voids some man left
the day he realized you were
Too much woman.
Find Me.
Or find enough peace, patience, and power
to reject the things
you cannot change.
Enough gas left in the tank
to drive toward the things you can,
And enough sober nights to know the difference.
When you’re at a fork in the road
Between the woman you are,
and the woman someone else wants you to be,
Adjust your crown.
Remember how long it took for you to get here,
How hard you fought to become her.
Promise that who you are,
who you want to be,
and whom you decide to love
Will always be your choice,
On your terms,
And never, ever, conflict
with what you stand for.
Change
So when I finally decided on what my next book would be, I was hyped. Just like some of the women, I didn’t know where to go after Dear Woman. Then I came up with The Boyfriend Book. The concept? I felt like Dear Woman left a lot of women single. So, I was going to write a book to “keep them occupied.”
I came up with the title when I did an interview for a blogger from London. She asked me, if had one wish, what would it be? The first thing that came to mind was, I would wish to meet my wife tomorrow. She thought it was the sweetest thing ever. We went on to talk about why I wanted love so bad, and if I ever thought I would find it. So after I hung up the phone, I sat and I thought, “That’s pretty selfish, to have one wish that you know is going to come true, and you use it to only help you.” So I thought about it some more, and I came up with, “Being every woman’s first boyfriend.” I called the blogger back and told her I wanted to change my answer. At first, she thought I was crazy, but when I broke it down to her, she started crying. That’s when I knew I was onto something…
I told her, “I want to be every woman’s first boyfriend because I want to set the table, set the bar, set the precedent for what you believe in, for what you call love. That way, at least when we break up, as you will eventually do with every boyfriend who doesn’t become your husband, at least the next person will be a good person.”
You know that’s how it’s supposed to work, right? Make a list of all the “boyfriends” you’ve had, from the first one till now. Do the relationships get better as you get older? If not, then maybe the problem isn’t in who’s chosen, but in the chooser. So, I had a plan. My next book was going to be me writing a year’s worth of love letters to women. I was going to be their “boyfriend.” Imagine coming home to a book that you could read that was filled with love—filled with hope.
It was beautiful—until my ninety-eight-year-old grandmother, who is still by the grace of God very much alive and well, asked me what my new book was going to be about. And when I told her