....i couldn't say it any better:

i guess i shouldn’t be surprised that my beginning was his end
after all, we were "just friends."
although, in my world I was his girl
so, i would pretend to be his wife and saying silly things like...
”It’s only so many years in a woman’s life,”
right, so I gave him three
yet, he had the audacity to step to me on this Donnell Jones,
“I don’t know where I wanna be type shit.”
it wasn’t supposed to be like this
he hit me with the forehead kiss
told me life was a journey and he was ready to explore this shit
and I was pissed
to me he was a hypocrite
like a fake preacher in the pulpit and he left me sick
i start pullin’ out Tupac hits tellin’ me to keep my head up and
R. Kelly picks about when a woman gets fed up
‘cause i was down with him for so long that I didn’t think I could get up
‘til one day i got tired of sleeping on pillows that my tears had wet up
and realized that life goes on and no,
he didn’t choose me but that doesn’t make him right nor wrong
and just because he was the epitome of my life, doesn’t make me wrong nor right
like i said, i was his friend not his wife
and i should have acted within that capacity and
maybe then this break-up would’ve been “just one of those things” instead of a fuckin’ tragedy
and all the time I spent mad at him–I should’ve been mad at me!
after all, i was the one that gave him the key to my house and
let him hang clothes in my closet just in case we go out
not to mention washing all his dirty clothes just “to make a full load,” and
letting him finish off all the leftovers, just “so the food don’t go old”
for the times that we raw dogged ‘cause he “lost all the rubbers”
and though i showed him more support than his own father, brother, sister, and mother
and just ‘cause those same people dialed my number when they’re trying to get in touch
and he received mail at my address “just cause he sleeps here so much”
got total control of the remote control to the TV, DVD, and radio
and even though his name is not on my lease,
he has shit in my house that’s off limits to me
like his “side of my bed” and his “stash of weed”
and i better not touch his shoe box, pillow, lucky charms, or toothbrush
he even had his own set of towels
but, none of this obligates him to me ‘cause not once did we exchange vows
and if I knew then what I know n o w, i probably would’ve listened
when he said it was some “shit” he had to get out of his system
but, I was too busy bitchin’, jumpin’ bad like I was gonna hit him
because in the back of my mind
all I could fathom was how much I was going to m i s s him
so, just because i’m crying doesn’t mean that i’m the victim
It just means I was scared to let him go ‘cause some other chick might get him
and that was my fault because it was my decision
I should’ve never put my heart in my mind’s position!!
and regardless to where we went wrong...I was all the way gone
doing stupid shit like checking pants pockets and returning missed calls on his phone
like I was I n s p e c t o r-G a d g e t
but, I couldn’t shake him– he was like a bad habit
and all this for a nigga that was just average and doing average SHIT
like talking out the side of his neck and thinking with his dick
but, I must admit, he was the "one" I wanted to commit
so either i wasn’t living up to my potential or i was just the average chick...
but I chose to believe i was a woman caught up in a feeling
both physical and emotional and was way to willing to give her ALL to a "man"
and though it may sound stupid, guess what? i would do it all again
just next time for my husband and not that nigga I call my friend

-Dana Gilmore