The Honey Hive

Heal Me II ©
Over the next few months my relationship with Sebastian progressed. We grew to know each other on an emotional, mental, but not yet physical level. We spent a lot of time together. But I still couldn’t completely trust Sebastian because Joshua has put the moves on me just like that. Who was pulling out all the stops from dinners to the movies, to the flowers, the whole nine. One night after we’d left the movies and were walking through the park illuminated by the moonlight he asked me. “Elena do you trust me?” I quickly lied yes. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t stand to look into his intense brown eyes and lie again so I looked away, “Yeah I’m sure.” Sebastian lifted my face up by the chin so I had to look into his eyes. “Elena baby I can feel it you don’t trust me completely. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Like I told you when I first met you I can’t control what the last man did. I can help heal the hurt but that’s only if you trust me enough to let me. So let me ask you a…

Heal Me ©


I’m thoroughly convinced love doesn’t exist. Nowhere, no how. There is no such thing as a soul mate. Call me a pessimist if you must but I’m just keeping it real. I gave Joshua all I had to give; my time, my energy, my love, my body, my mind, my soul, and my spirit. Then the nerve of this fool to throw it away like it was nothing. It devastated me to the deepest depths of my spirit. Then I thought I had got on the rebound when I started dating this guy named Jarin. I was wrong again. Come to find out Jarin was on the downlow on the low-down. After that I decided I was officially through with love. I know I treat men who are genuinely interested in me cruelly. Hey, I’m sorry. But I’m not going to put myself out there to get hurt because I hate to sound cliché all men are the same. 

Once they get you where they want you they will treat you like a piece of crap. I’m not going to let that happen to me anymore. 

“Elena, Elena, Elena. What do you want to drink?” My sister, Jasl…

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How you ever wanted something so bad, that it’s the last thing on your mind at night and the first thing on it when you wake up. You fantasize about having it and it being yours’ but then you realize you can never have it no matter how badly you want it. I call these things forbidden fruit. That’s my nickname for Pasha, my brother Anthony’s girlfriend. Pasha was gorgeous she was about five-six, smooth caramel skin, bright hazel eyes, long wavy black hair, and a body any woman would die for. But if you left it to Anthony to tell it she was hag and he just dealt with her because the sex was good.

Anthony was my brother and we had been through a lot together but he didn’t know a good thing when he had it. From the few occasions I got a chance to talk to her, I saw her extreme intelligence which was a major turn on for me and her love for Antho…