Tag Archives: millennial

Blood, Scabs, and an Epiphany.

MEANWHILE, I’m a creative. I’m the hopeless romantic that isn’t all that romantic. I’m the relationship blogger that suck at love. The thing is…what I experience, what I know, and what I do almost never compliment each other. The sensible side and the imaginative side tend to war within. I have a secret. I believe in happily-ever-afters. THAT my friend is what screws me up. EVERY TIME. I believe a heart that says, “I love you.” And to ones that don’t, I often tell myself, “one day.” I believe in the harmonic flow of a healthy beating heart. I think love is dope. I think love is incredible. It’s just….maybe not for me. I mean, I want it to be…but, I don’t think love loves me. It’s been my experience that those who love big…often bleed big. I’ve bled a lot. And every so often without noticing, though I think I’m well, the blood of a picked scab will remind me just how much more I have to go.

Have you ever fallen and scrapped yourself…or maybe even cut yourself? It hurts! Like the initial pain…really hurt. Some of the pain that makes us bleed are deeper than others. Some cuts you clean, bandage and go on with the day, yet find that the blood keeps coming…even through the bandage. And then along comes the scabs. It’s a sign that the cut is healing, but it never looks pretty. Just because the bleeding stops, it doesn’t make the wounds invisible. Scars are the proof of real pain. As a kid, hating how ugly scabs appeared, I did my best to get rid of them…but I found that every time I did, I just bled again. Old wounds became new pain, and while it wasn’t the same…the feelings were unnecessary.  I have a habit reliving things in new ways and calling it new things. 

How many times do we have to bleed and relive the same pain before we get it? I look at my record. I tend to torture myself falling for hearts that I know can never love me back. I’m the type of dude that if you got me, you got me. Even after you’ve dropped me…I’m there. You can need the moon, and I’d find a spaceship to go get it and the three brightest stars just in case you thought about needed it later. But often that compassion left me being skipped and incomparable to a Walmart bus ride by another. I haven’t always been hurt though. I’ve hurt too. There were those that loved me beyond what I was willing to love about me and therefore pushed them away. I held people to a standard that other’s failed to live up to and kept them at a distance.

Maybe love isn’t bias. Maybe we just have to stop loving the wrong way. Perhaps new love won’t remind you of an old pleasure. New love will make you smile in different ways. LOVE is real. It can be beautiful… if you let it be.

Stop bleeding. Stop making others pay for what someone did or didn’t do. No one is obligated to change your bandage.

Stop picking at old wounds. Stop the memories. Stop bringing up old laughs, moments, and pain. It’s not healthy. Pain isn’t a bonding tool. What broke your heart shouldn’t be the tagline of your bio. We go picking scabs in hopes of finding “healing” “wholeness” and “closure” when all we do is bleed, awaken desire, and stir up emotions. Just heal.

REALIZE it will happen. LOVE will come when it decides to come. Just be emotionally stable and mature enough to handle it when it does. Love shouldn’t be one sided and it shouldn’t be painful. Love just loves. It confronts, it challenges, and it causes you to make bold decisions…but sacrifice is easy when you’re all in it. Be all in it. We’re getting older. Our hearts aren’t getting any younger. We can’t keep giving ourselves heart attacks beating for people, things, and hearts just will never beat for us. BEAT IT UP. I mean that in the purest sense. Change the rhythm of your beat.

Bring reality into your imagination. It’s a good thing to dream. But some times dreams turn into nightmares. But some times dreams end and when they do, you have to make a decision of waking up and living life, or creating a fantasy and living in a memory. IT DIDN’T WORK. IT’S NOT WORKING. IT’LL NEVER WORK.

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  • beat responsibility.
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I’m burning the love note.

Dear Grey,

I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever not love you. Apart of me hates that you don’t love me anymore, and a part of me doesn’t care. We had dope times and in my mind a dope connection, so excuse me if I don’t share your entire, “just friends” now logic. It’s easy for you, not that easy for me. It’s easy to befriend someone you never loved. Those whose heart were invested…it takes time to snap back into friend zone.

No long love note, no great love ballad to write…I loved you. And as much as I don’t understand, and as much as I want to hate you…I don’t have that much heart invested at this point enough to ask. You hurt me. How do you tell someone, “I don’t want you. There is NOTHING about this that’s beneficial to me. CLEARLY…I’m getting nothing out of this.” It came out of nowhere and was meant with so much passion. I learned a lot. I hurt a lot after you too. But you know what, I gained a lot. You said something that hurt but helped me. You said, “not like we were ever in a real relationship anyway.” You know what, you were right. Can’t fault you there. I took a lot from that. And yo, when I find the one…I’m going to take your advice…and I’m going to dive in head first. Well…in a figurative sense of course. This is a CLEAN content blog. Sheesh. But I digress.

Whether you believe in or not….against it all…I loved you enough to marry you. But I’m glad you stopped loving me. It forced me to love me. I have nothing too bad to say other than, I’m burning the love notes….if you care.  It was a pretty dope experience. No real complaints, no real problems…so I thought. I mean, you pissed me off at times, but at the end of the day, bae was bae. I have texts…I mean my text thread (thanks to Apple/iMessage) tells and unfold our entire little love story. Little love notes and all. I still have all the screenshots we’ve exchanged. All the pics of us from FaceTime and such. We’d talk all night, every night, fall asleep together…be dope during the day…and all wack with each other by night.

I tried my best to change the course of where we stood. I really fought for us. Late night texts, early morning texts, practically begged for us to talk..and I don’t know…one day, I woke up. I don’t know if it’s somewhere between trying to sleep with my friends and thinking I didn’t know, or me just not caring anymore. All I know, is that somewhere in between all of that…I woke up. But I still had these memories I couldn’t stop.

You know of my hoarding ways. You teased me enough over it. My old magazines, newspapers, little notes…heck even my iCloud content. But I’m getting rid of it all just so you know. My inability to let go I see has caused me to mismanage what’s in front of me. It leads me in comparing those in my life to those that left my life. I can never be fully happy with the next because I’m too busy comparing and rehearsing experience. You remember I spent a lot of our relationship..or whatever you think we were…talking about those before you. It’s the perfect makings of an emotional heart attack. Not anymore though.

I’m breathing. I’m living. ….I’m deleting. No more holding on, no more “what-ifs.” Moving on entails, “even if they come back around…no thank you, I’ll pass.” Wish you a dope life. Be happy….even if it’s with MY people. Find your happiness, and I pray you really do find wholeness. I’m in a good place. You can have it all. All the memories, the laughs, the love, the moments…take it. No lingering thoughts. My heart isn’t bleeding anymore. I’m good. Burning this little love note…for the both of us. You don’t owe me…I don’t owe you. Don’t feel entitled to speak, and I won’t feel pressure to respond. We are good. No real friendship needed. Seems like it’s forced and out of commitment to your word not to just be like the rest. Nahhh. No need to anymore. It’s okay now. I promise.

What we shared, the promises we made, and the words we exchanged…our integrity to our word seems to bind us together even though we would rather go our separate ways. It’s burning…all of it. No worries. I’m burning the thing that tie us together.

We’re free.

We’re good.

We’re better.

 

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Summer Rain…

It’s hot. No…I mean like really, it’s hootttt. To a winter/fall fella like me, the heat seems almost unbearable. I like cool crisp air, and yet these 98 and 101 tempts have ME almost crisp and toasted. I sweat, I’m moody I don’t like to be bothered much, but overall I’m still a chill (cool) dude. Summer days keeps me eh..in a unique place. I’m cordial, I’m busy, and I’m constantly hot. In the house, the sound of the fan or air makes me to remember that out of the confines of the space I’m in…I’ll feel the effects of what I’m trying to escape. Pool parties, cook outs, all sorts of events take place. But being a natural introvert and even more of a grouch…I tend to say, “NO…I’m hot!”

I think back to being a kid. I loved the perks of Summer but hated the heat. Much like life, discomfort can bring some pretty damning moments, but an overall dope outcome. As a kid, I was never in the house. Be it I was hanging with my sister and her friends, my cousins, or running to the church house…I was never home. I think about the times the kids in the neighbor would be outdoors playing. We would be hot, sweating, not having a care in the world…other than the heat that is.

Growing up in the hood of Jersey, someone would find a way to cause the fire hydrant to open up, and we’d enjoy the water. Nothing would beat being out in the sun all day, hot sweaty, playing…and a short rain shower would come. It would seem as if the hotter is was, the more prone the rain was to follow sometime that day.

I thought about that today. You know in life, so many things can come our way, so many things to be agitated and frustrated about. Often times we fail to see the beauty and possibilities of what can be because of what is. YEAH…IT’S HOT…it’s suppose to be. But the rain is coming. So you’ve been hurt. Okay….people play games. We got it, you can be bad all by yourself. All that stuff is cute. Facebook and IG memes may get you some likes, but it’ll keep that status single on Facebook and you bitter. Never become so consumed by the heat that you miss the moments. Life gives us moments. Times for everything we will get to enjoy.

You’ll cry, but you’ll laugh again. You’ll hurt, but you will love and be loved again. Let life be beautiful. The joy about summer rain is that rarely it last for hours. Most times, it’s just for a few moments. But those short moments…tends to be such a relief from the present.

Smile during dark days. Laugh at silly jokes. Do it because you don’t want to. Pain never feels good, but your sanity will thank you for it in the long run. Enjoy the rain.

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PRESSURE.

Breh!! Sister Breh!! Hiiiiiiiiiiii.

I’m excited writing this week’s blog. I’m happy, I’m sleepy, I want chicken, I have pop-tarts, but overall, I feel good. Nahhhh, I won no lottery. I gained no worldly possessions this week…although I’m open to any and all donations. #iKiddALittle #LaughALittle

Meanwhile. Question.

Do you know what it’s like to be consumed by your own desires? Have you any idea what it feels like to be captive and enslaved by the taintedness of your own heart…wanting things you can’t have, and loving the people that won’t love you back? It’s hell being stuck in a vicious cycle of attraction, obsession, and heart attacks. A senseless romance is what I call it. What do you do when being a victim has left you bearing chips on your shoulder, but life has made you a terror to the hearts of others? You bare guilt, regret, and hopes of wishing the right one came back and would love you again.

As a kid, I hated cleaning, but I loved cleanliness. I hated the work it took to gain order, but felt my best in an organized environment. I remember stacking all of my books up, trying to carry them, and I ended up injuring my face as they came tumbling down on me. I didn’t want the responsibility of taking what I could handle. That would have seemingly taken too long, so I just grabbed them all to save time. As a result of that…I cut my face under my right eye. It could have been avoided, and it could have been done a different way. But trying to beat time came with a price. Not only was I now scarred, but now took longer to do what I initially was doing because now I had to collect everything again.

That’s what pressure looks like. Pressure isn’t like pain. But it can lead to it. Pressure is intense enough that it can’t be ignored, it’s a constant reminder of existence.  If you’re anything like me, most of the issues aren’t pain worthy…it’s pressure. And at times…pressure can feel like a heart attack. We carry experiences, emotions, and chips daily. It’s easy not to examine what’s on our backs and in our hearts. We often just continue going until the weight we carry crumble on us. Emotions come spewing out that we thought were long gone. Names, memories, feelings manifest…and all the while the only thing you can do is cry. Well not me…me…I just eat pop-tarts and watch a Meryl Streep moving. If you’re judging me…you’re judging your moms first.

I know pressure. I’m a millennial black man trying to be dope…I tend to carry things…emotions…and people especially way longer than I should. People that have left my presence a long time ago, yet still occupy in some regard space in my heart. But things are changing. I had a conversation with someone I deeply loved one day, but couldn’t be with anymore. After long nights of being sleepless and frustration, days of  being semi-ignored, the lack of communication, the lack of love, the thoughts, hopes, and desires of one day winning bae back ….yo…I realized in the middle of a conversation. It had NOTHING to do with “us” and wasn’t thinking about it actually. In a basic conversation, I realized…I don’t care anymore. Not in a bad way…just…well, all of that extra stuff wasn’t my weight to carry anymore.

I think I’m mastering what I couldn’t grasp as a kid. I’m learning to deal with things…one at a time. One book, two books, three books, four… There’s no need to deal with it all at once. I’m in no rush for time…no more need for injuries and heart issues. Nahhh…I’m dealing with life and its issues, and I’m taking my time to free myself.

The pressure…it isn’t there anymore. It’s getting easier to breathe. I’m seeing clearly…I’m loving better…and my focus is pretty legit.

Freedom feels good.

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