itsShar.com

If anyone ever asks me,

“Shar, what happened between you two?

I won’t talk about the conversations, the arguments, the ghosting, the chaos.

No……I’ll just stare into the distance like i’m in a dramatic movie and quietly say,

,”…the kisses.”

Because I went through something.

That man kissed me straight into another dimension. Kissed me like he was baptizing me into a new religion. Kissed me so good my knees filed for unemployment. My brain shut down like an old iPhone on 3% battery. My soul literally clocked out and said. ….Girl, I’ll wait for you in the afterlife.”

And yes… sometimes when I think about how he kissed me, I get weak. Annoyingly weak. Like “who tf raised me?” weak. I roll my eyes at myself like,”Girl, get up. Be serious.Have some dignity for once.”

Listen…..

I don’t know who trained that man, but his kisses had main character energy. They had this must be a sin energy. They had the kind of energy that makes you forget your password, your standards, and your entire birth chart.

He kissed me so good I literally forgot I had a whole life to live. I forgot I had to cook, forgot I had kids, forgot I had a kitchen, forgot that pans even exist.

He kissed me so good I swear I felt my wig shift three centimeters to the left. I didn’t even fix it.Didn’t even care. Didn’t even blink. My wig became a background character and my scalp disconnected from my lace front.

I was in full kiss coma. Full romantic blackout. Full “take my dignity, I don’t need it anymore” mode.

He kissed me so good my perfume literally slid down my skin like it was trying to leave the scene discreetly. The way I was answering his kisses… even my perfume lost all respect for me.

He kissed like he was trying to unlock my chakras, reset my nervous system, and download his chaos straight into my bloodstream.

Let me be very clear: That man didn’t just kiss. He kissed me like he was trying to rewrite my DNA.Like he was downloading a software update straight through my lips. Like he was trying to speak in tongues but forgot he wasn’t in church.

His kisses had storyline,. There were plot twists. There were cliffhangers. There were moments I genuinely thought, “This is how women end up losing the remote control of their life.”

He kissed me so good my eyelashes curled on their own. My toes threw gang signs. He kissed me like my lips were the WiFi password to heaven. Like he was trying to swallow my soul and my childhood trauma at the same time.

And the worst part?

He knew exactly what he was doing. Oh he KNEW.That’s why he kissed like he was trying to erase all my common sense.Like he was whispering, “Shhh… don’t think. Just fall.”

He kissed slow, then fast, then slow again just to humble me. And I swear… there was one kiss, one specific kiss, that made my brain hit the emergency exit.

You know that kiss. The one where he grabs your face with that annoying soft confidence and pulls you in like he’s about to tell your soul a secret?

Yeah…

That kiss.

That’s the kiss that made my inner voice pack her bags and say, “Alright girl, you’re on your own. I’m not supervising this.” His kisses were dangerous. Too intentional.Too practiced.

But I can’t lie: sometimes I think about it and my stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster I didn’t consent to ride again.

Because a kiss like that?

It lingers.

It echoes.

It embarrasses you.

And I hate that I remember it so clearly. I hate that my body reacts before my brain does.I hate that my lips have the AUDACITY to remember his stupid magic.

My lips still have PTSD. Post.Traumatic.Smack Disorder. Sometimes I’m minding my business folding laundry, watching Netflix, eating crisps,

and BOOM.

My lips get flashbacks. He kissed me with that stupid mixture of softness and hunger,like he wanted to ruin my life but gently. He kissed like a man who knew that if he did anything else wrong,the kiss could save him.

The kiss where he paused, looked at me, gave that annoying soft half smile…that kiss had me ready to pack my bags and move with him to a country I’ve never heard of…

And now my lips?They’re in recovery. In therapy. In rehab. Still talking to professionals about what happened.

He knew the power. He knew the technique. He kissed like he wanted custody of my common sense.

My mouth literally twitches like: “Remember that one kiss?That ONE? Yeah… we’re suddenly emotional again. “He kissed me with intention and disrespect all at once.

A kiss can haunt you.And HIS kiss? That wasn’t a kiss.That was a possession. He kissed me like I was the main chapter and treated me like a deleted scene.

But God is good…. because once you break the spell, you realize:

A man can kiss like heaven……

and still bring you heart to hell.

Love Shar