Posted in Blog, Freshly pressed, late night, Love, Me, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

A journey

Being in the situation where I have to give up my 2005 for my 1997 Lincoln. I find myself putting together the pieces of things in my life. Let me take you on a journey… I go outside to see what’s going on with the Lincoln it’s been about 12 months since I last seen her and she didn’t seem to great then. 
So I turn the key and open the door and start her up. Nothing happens so I turn the key off and back on to try again. Nothing happens so I get out knowing that this is most likely the battery. ✔️ Note to self. 
So I ask the neighbors for a jump and they come over. They give me the jump and the car gets a lil smokey. Ok we all assume that’s the antifreeze and we grab some and put it in. Beautiful. It’s starting to feel like this is going to happen. I jump in and give it a lil gas and she clunks around for a bit but then she goes smooth and not just smooth but that pretty pretty sounding smooth. So behind the smoothness I hear a small tick and if you know about cars 9 times outta 10 if you hear a tick it’s time for some oil. 

 

But I’m feeling accomplished and in a good mood so I pull up and put her in park turn her off and back on for good measure. She goes cold. Nothing. Again. And now I’m pissed. I feel deflated and saddened by this defeat. Now since I know about cars I know this is still a battery problem. So that’s an okay fix you know something I can handle. I call my bro and he comes and handles the battery and oil problem with the help of my son for an assistant. He tells me it’s all good leaves and goes about his day. 
I come out an hour later and try her again. This time she starts up with no problem like nothing ever happened. I go in reverse and begin to pull forward when she goes nowhere fast. I’m appalled and in dismay at the audacity of this (bleep bleep bleep) not moving so I try again and this time she’s not budging by force and I can feel the strain. So I assume I’m pushing to hard and I need to stop regroup and try again. 

 
 But instead I go in the house numb to the world and call my cousin I tell her what happened and she names off the oil and then she says transmission fluid. And I jump for joy like yes transmission fluid! I get off the phone with her and call my friend for a ride to the gas station I’m gonna grab some gas in a can and transmission fluid. 
She picks me up and I grab my goodies she drops me off and I open the hood I look in with happiness again. I go to the side put in the gas so I don’t run out. And I go back to the hood and look in for the transmission dip stick. I don’t see it anywhere. Now I know the yellow is oil and red is transmission or at least I thought I knew . I’m looking and looking I call over the neighbor and now he’s looking too but we both don’t see it. Puzzled and frustrated he says Google it. So I’m like yeah.. let’s. I google and I find it. It is black.. and not red (go figure). Now I’m looking for a needle in the hail stack because almost everything is black. To find this handle is going to be impossible. 
But with hope in my eyes and determination I look for more info, find it behind the engine and put some in. I’m excited but a bit scared as I jump in and throw her into gear. She takes off with ease and I feel joy in the air. 
I cruise for a minute come back and pull into the driveway. Relieved and happy. I did it. I made it happen…
You know.. life does that to us. In our relationship or with our goals we go through roller coasters of happy and sad emotions . But we don’t give up if it’s important to us. We just keep trying until we finally succeed. 
I’m gonna to keep trying and I hope you do too. Let this journey be a lesson and a gift of triumph in the little things. Because I promise it’s the little things that matter. 
Sending love in abundance to you
C L Cunningham

Posted in Blog, deep thoughts, Freshly pressed, late night, Love, Me, Poems, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

There is love

There’s a love out there for me that’s beautiful. One that opens doors and cuddles on the couch. That giggles at side jokes and laughs at life’s challenges. A love where we stand side by side in the kitchen to prep a meal feeding each other pieces of food while we dance to the beat of our own drum. 
There’s a love out there for me that plays no games. Taking family trips to the lake, playing on beaches with the man that I love. Twirling around in the air as if he’s my carnival of affection and I will make him feel like he’s the prize. 
There’s a love for me that’s so grand it can mend our broken puzzles and put it together whole where we all have a place and everything fits just right. There’s a love I was meant to give. A love I was meant to have. An actual family a friend a warrior for us instead of a fighter for the selfishness of just me. A team. A love that’s meant for we. 
C L Cunningham 

Posted in Artist, Blog, deep thoughts, Freshly pressed, late night, Love, Me, Poem, Poems, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

Summer time

Sitting out in the night heat. Feeling that warm summer breeze blowing in my ear. I look at the sky and remember how it felt to be young. When school’s out and summer break had kicked into swing. Everybody couldn’t wait for night time on the block. The scorching heat had gone away and that nice breeze set in. Kids riding bikes and girls double butching on the sidewalks. We’d fill up water balloons and throw them at each other for that refreshing relief of cold water spraying your skin. 

Laughter filling the streets while the street light lets out a glow. It felt good to be young and still carefree from all of life’s problems for a moment. Just running for what felt like no reason while playing ditch um. But really it was just to let off all that energy you had built up all day relaxing.

I can still hear my momma yelling out the window for one of us to bring her something. The kids telling jokes and calling names not to be mean but just for fun. I would always climb the tree in the front yard to disappear and just soak in the vibe. It’s summer time again and it doesn’t feel like it did then. I wish I could go back just for a while so I could enjoy it one more time. 
C L Cunningham

Posted in Blog, deep thoughts, Freshly pressed, late night, Love, Me, Picture, Poem, Poems, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

When loneliness sets in 

When he would be gone on the road I could be understanding. I would know it was mostly for work. But when he would come in from the road and try to still be gone I lost patience. Because now he can physically be here and just didn’t want to be. He’d want to give me the first day or two and then be gone the rest. Maybe pop in because I needed something or he wanted to have sex. But like clockwork he’d eventually be gone again. 

After a while what he put into the house became less than the time he put outside the house. By this time I knew it wasn’t the work keeping him gone it just added to the time he was away. 

I was always puzzled at how he didn’t see it coming. Maybe he was too busy being gone to notice. But I didn’t care. I mean it hurt and all but I started not to miss him anymore. The calls were less on my side. I’d give him a text or two to help him feeling good about being gone. I learned that if he didn’t call he was ok and if he did call he was either on some bs or was about to be on some bs. Either way I was thinking of everything under the  sun whether it was true or not. I was cursing about what a damn fool he was  for not being around enough to show me he was anything better than what I was thinking.

He just started giving me too much alone time. I never wanted to be alone. I could be single and be alone. I could be meeting people and finding new love instead of being alone. I started to be so used to being alone that being around him became difficult. I loss my drive to care. 

The infidelity was just the icing on the cake. It was the middle finger his sappy text and his social media post couldn’t cover up. He’d tell me whatever needed to be said to calm the situation.

And then we’d try to put it back together. We’d spend more time together. We’d have more sex than we had been having. And it would feel good again for a little bit. But old habits would come creeping in and things would go back to how they were. 

And once again I’d be…Lonely
C L Cunningham

Posted in Blog, deep thoughts, Freshly pressed, Love, Picture, Poem, Poems, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

Why look outside when you got a woman at home? 

So me being the douchebag that I am I give in to sex with the soon to be ex. And afterward we’re talking and it starts getting heated and I’m about to go off. When he stops and asked how did we go from happy to angry? I and pause and think to myself “right how did we just go from bomb ass sex to an argument?” So I tell him the truth. I tell him how incredibly upset I am by the things that has happened. And  how I actually went from a hoe to a housewife. And how I like to talk to dudes but just haven’t had the guts to have sex with anyone. How much I wanted this man to do what he promised in his wedding vows by being faithful. I told him I knew about the women and how I smell them on him sometimes when he’s on top of me. I told him the truth and how I dream of a day I’ll meet the next man who will do what a husband is supposed to do and be only with his wife. 

He got mad. He did. But it was alright because it made him get real honest… He looked at me and told me how I was the love of his life and how he feared that he couldn’t show me everything that he really liked and how he liked that I’m freaky but that I need to match his freakiness. And that messed me up because I’ve always thought of myself as a really freaky b**ch. 

So me being the douchebag that I am I had to go further. I needed to Dr. Phil this thing. It’s a couple of hours later and now after being flirty and sexy. I ask him. “What did you mean when you said I needed to match your freaky?” And he acted like he didn’t know. So I grabbed his beard and looked in his eyes and said “you know what you mean. Tell me what you mean.” And he casually said “you have it you just don’t use it.” And I’m like “I have it?” He’s like “yes, you have it. It’s something that’s inside of you but you just won’t use it.” And I swear to you it hit me like a brick. In that moment I knew exactly what he meant. And I KNEW I was holding on to it. Like a sneaky surprise when he could finally prove he deserved it. And it made me sad that the one thing he was looking for in me I actually was holding it back and other women were just handing it out to him. That there was something he could have literally gotten from home that I just couldn’t and wouldn’t give to him because emotionally I just wasn’t ready. That deep inside I never really trusted him with my heart and that he was desperate for the one thing I really wasn’t giving him. And what’s worst is that he’s not going to get it no time soon. Because he’s done so much dirt that now I’m even farther away from giving it to him than I was before. 

C L Cunningham

Posted in Artist, Blog, deep thoughts, Freshly pressed, Love, Me, Poem, Poems, Short stories, Uncategorized, Writing

Pain

Pain has a funny way of changing you. What I mean is that pain sneaks up on you. It starts small like a little nagging feeling. And then that feeling gets bigger and more intense until it’s starts to take over you. You may start to tell people that you don’t feel good but we all know how everyone hates bad news so you stop telling people about how you don’t feel well. After a awhile you start to just sit in that pain. And you deal with it. You start faking out in public and crying out in private. God why me? Why now? When will it stop? Over and over until you start to believe your crazy and you NEED to get over it? 

But how do you get over pain? How do you not feel it? How do you just calm down and shut the f*ck up for everyone else’s sake but your own? And it’s not until you crack or you break that people care. No one cares until your in the hospital or you stop answering calls or until you end it all. Nobody cares until it effects them. Until they’re tired of hearing it. 

I care about you. Your soul is connected to my soul and your fight is my fight. Because we fight the same fight. To everyone struggling we won’t be in darkness forever…even hell has light. 
C L Cunningham