How Stella Got Her Groove Back Read Free

didn’t know the power of love was so powerful. But I liked it. Liked feeling like I was full of clouds. Like I could probably run a marathon without ever training for it. Like I was “on” something that was causing me to have a continuous flow of energy, making me feel excited about and see beauty in just about everything. I could walk down the street and feel myself grinning and people would look at me and simply grin too. This is when I thought I understood what God intended for us to feel.
    But then the bullshit always had to enter the picture and contaminate everything that had been so beautiful. Like where were you and why do you have to do that all the time and how come and when are you and I don’t really give a flying fuck if you do but because I felt like it and if you can’t handle it tough shit but as much as I wish I could I can’t even begin to imagine but just the thought of you don’t no not anymore but we could if you weren’t so damn stubborn because hell I can’t help it if I was and yes you are trying to change me into something that I’m not and want to see how long I can resist this shit want to watch me repel and don’t remind me how much we used to have that’s the past and it’s gone baby live in the here and now and check it out this is getting too thick for me and I’m like sinking somewhere low and my heart weighs a ton here lately and as a matter of fact the mere sight of you being in your presence for any length of time depresses the hell out of me and I don’t need this shit who needs this shit so I’m like out of here.
    All I know is that I was sort of already using my reserve tank when he left and afterwards being alone took some getting used to. A person can get on your last nerve, drive you to drink, but you still kind of miss their sorry ass after they’re gone is what I found out. That empty space he left sort of turned into an ache for a minute, or I should say a few months, maybe even a year. It was like this secret longing I felt to replace the void he left with something or someone else. Only I didn’t have the energy. Quincy took up a different kind of space, required a different kind of love. It wasn’t until a year and a half ago that I realized I had not felt the warmth of a man’s body next to mine, that my lips hadn’t trembled, that my breasts hadn’t throbbed or between my legs hadn’t been wet from anybody’s hands except my own, and it made me sad, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I was waiting for him to knock on the front door, I guess, and just say, Here I am. Your worries are over, baby. I’m here. But there has been no knock. I haven’t even bumped into him. Haven’t seen him. Haven’t walked past him in an airport and felt any current radiate from his body to mine. Not at all. Not anything close.
    But it’s okay. Because all I know is that marriage wears you out and I’m not sure if I have the energy left for it. All my married friends are mostly miserable. They’re just in it because. They started it. Those kids. The money would be all fucked up. Lifestyles would change. Alimony. Child support. And that fucking mortgage and all those cars and visitation and fuck it, let’s just stick it out. Some of them don’t even sleep together. Some of the men—a lot of the men—are into serious affairs but unfortunately the chicks on the side don’t have a clue that most of them have no intention of leaving. The men just need a reprieve. Want to break up the monotony. Smell somebody new. In some cases it’s the only way their dicks can get hard and blast off anymore and hell to them it’s worth it.
    Which is why I have pretty much come to the conclusion that marriage itself is a dead-end institution. I’m not doing it again. All I want is a little companionship. No ring. No “I do till death do us part,” because I said that once and we’re both still very much alive. Folks expect too much from one another and when you don’t