I woke up in a cold sweat, that was the 1st sign. Thoughts of the time we share always found a way to disturb my sleep. Things were good, I'll even go as far to say it was great. We were the perfect blend, similar personalities, kind hearts and true love birds. We were more than friends, more than lovers, more than our pasts. Together, we were better than the others. I liked to believe we were soul mates, as corny as it sounds. I could tell her anything, and Lord knows my ear would bleed at times from the reoccurrence of her words, but I always listened, even if I had already heard the story 5 or 6 times, which was often. I believed she was unlike all the rest, she was an old soul, mixed with morals and loyalty, mixed in with a small pinch of gangsta... And I loved her. Everything about her. But still through all of this, neither one of us could predict what was next to take place. And for that reason alone, the story ends here because what's next to happen hasn't happened yet.
.........on my Blackberry.
Trumpism and race. The new identity politics.
16 hours ago