Meanwhile, I’m a hopeless romantic. No really, I am. ….Okay, maybe I lie a little. I’m not…but I have a good heart. The older I get, the more I find myself embracing the flaws of my reality. The uneven smile, the big nose, my voice… all of that is irrelevant these days. “I’m is who I’m is,” as Paula Deen said once. Physical imperfections just sort of faded with time . But there is just one thing I absolutely HATE about myself. I mean…most days I wish I could just throw it in the trash and get it replaced. I hate my heart, yo! I don’t have a million people in my life, and not one of the “drop” happy people that culture seems to celebrate. I value my relationships…even when I don’t honor them all the time.
I’ma jerk-tard. I have zero chill most days, but those I love…I love strong. To me, covenant and relationships mean something. I understand things in life happen, but I just believe love trumps all. I’m one that believes in fighting for healthy relationships….even when it’s too late. I don’t like people going in and out of my heart space. In my younger years, I would go through “friends” and “loves” like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t care. Embracing the mid twenties, though still young, I’m realizing that all people aren’t the same. Some hearts, some loves, you only get to experience once. So I do my best to hold on to them.
I was speaking to my boy, and he called me a, “people hoarder.” True enough, I have problems keeping people past their expiration date. My heart is like the fridge that keeps everything in it. It appears full, but often reeks and stinks when opened…because of the spoiled contents. I’m the type of guy that if I love you, no matter if you chose not to love me, if you ask for the moon, I’ll find away to bring it along with the three brightest stars. My love doesn’t end because our friendship does. Not sure if that’s a good thing though. Some times we hurt because we don’t know how to let go. We dream dreams with the people and hurt like hell when we wake up.
The worst part about a dream is that eventually you have to wake up. No matter how deep it is, no matter how long, and despite the content in the dream…sooner or later, you’re back up again. And when you are, you have two options: snap back to reality and move on OR attempt to create your own fantasy world out of it. Both will hurt. But only one will heal.
I’ve screwed some great relationships up over the years. Not all have recovered. There are some voids yet to be filled. So to fill the emptiness I often find myself trying to “mend” and “fix” things that will never be repaired again, but for the sake of memory…I try anyway. I’m the “maybe one day they may come around again,” type of guy. I’ll back away just enough not to harass, but check-in just enough for you to know I’m there if you ever need me. That kind of constant rejection…sheesh…it can weight you down. I mean…while I may not boo-hoo over it…it makes me act out in the pettiest of ways at times. Sucks, because no matter how much I love, how much I care, how much I try to make Grey see…she will never love me back. Feelings will never be mutual between the both of us again.
It’s wack breh. Like real wack. I think a lot. And at times…my mind leads me on emotional suicidal missions. Sending messages, expressing my heart…only to get “thanks” in return if anything at all. EVERYONE that knows me knows how much of a word geek I am. I love words. Quickest way to get under my skin is to ignore them and without them. But something is different these days. I don’t care anymore. I think I’m waking up.
I’ve gone to send messages and my phone has died mid text. The more serious messages, at times, I sent them, and Facebook would alert me with a red error message telling me it didn’t go through. Some mornings I’ve opened my eyes to my phone in hand with half texted messages from emotional nights, said…”chillllllll,” and deleted it.
You reach a point where all you can say is, “I tried,” and move on. No more trying to convince, no more pleading, no more checking-in on people. Delete the text thread. Delete the pictures. Stop holding on to memories that do nothing much revive a love that you can’t have anymore. WAKE UP. I told myself, “just stop.” Stop texting, stoping calling, stop asking for a call. No late night “hiiiiiiiii,” no more i-love-yous and random good morning, mid-day, and late night texts that go ignored. (Seee. I can have a heart when I want to.) I don’t care if you smile, and while it’s not my desire for anyones day to be bad….I don’t care to learn if it is. I’m too dope to be that attached to people that aren’t interested.
I’m up…like all the way up. No need to splash water in my face, no need to scream my name again. Get off of me, don’t touch me…there’s no need to shake me to make me respond…I got it now. Now on to the hard part…learning to stay up when everything in me says, “just five more minutes.”