One day you wrote me, asking me about how you could best love me. That day was triggering. The letter you sent me forced me to begin to address my internal feelings of being unlovable and unwanted. I think back to the scars i got from other women, the ones i put band-aids on. How I come off strong and confident on social media, but deep down inside I’m hurting. I remember crying on the phone with you from my hotel room during the summer. Remember that? I didn’t want you to leave. You came back, but I was never really present. Not when I’m hurting, struggling to piece my life together while attempting to continue like one of those people who “got their shit together”. I don’t regret falling in love with you. You were a pleasant sunny day to my cold and bitter winter. I resent myself. I resent my inability to grow past my traumatic past, and build a beautiful future with you. Didn’t realize how broken I am. Didn’t realize how hurting I am. And by the time i began to, I had already hurt you and pushed you away. Too late for i’m sorry. Too late to start over. My path is better traveled alone, because it’s forcing me to grow. I love the God I see in you. Sometimes I just felt like the devil had too strong of a hold of me. I’ll always hate myself for not being able to love you like you loved me. Too hurt and battered from my own shit i guess.
Until life forces us to be in the same room, i'll always wonder what it would’ve been like for us to be a bride and groom. Maybe then i’ll ask you? I probably won’t. I'll probably just admire your beauty from afar. Maybe one day im blessed enough to end up wherever you are. A dream come true. There’s 7 days in a week, and not one goes by where I don’t think about how much I love you.
I find myself in an almost constant state of reflection. Constantly comparing my former spaces and energies to my current ones. Am I thinking the same? Am I moving the same? I think back to where I was in my life when I first started blogging. And if i'm being honest with myself, I'm more unhappy now than I was back then. Back when I wrote The Transition and Why Do I Workout So Much, I was crashing with Camille, trying to figure out If being a lawyer was really what I wanted to do. I was miserable then, and as I write this post, 4 years later; i'm still very much unhappy with my current space.
Why is that? I making money. I eating everyday. My mother's health is improved. I'm a published writer. I have been in NIKE ads, I'm a NIKE trainer. I have run several half marathons. I have a podcast, and I'm currently filming and producing a TV show. I'm the head strength coach of a women's college basketball team. I'm a business owner and CEO of a successful brand. Yet I sit here and I feel so unfulfilled. Why? I ask God this question on a daily!
I think back to my relationship with Alexandra. I think back to my time with Shatorah and Bree. I think back to the times I spent with women who I cried over like Shatorah or Hannah. Women I confessed my loved to, only to end up feeling humiliated and worthless. Women I bought wedding rings for, who couldn't visit me in in the Hospital after I almost died in a car accident.
I refuse to continue living my life, 30 years in, and be a bitter broken bum ass piece of shit. Phyllis is a great woman. She has been outstanding in her ability to nurture and support me in my darkest hours. But i'm tired of always needing someone's emotional support. I'm tired of feeling slighted by women who don't give a shit about me. Tired of women telling me about myself, like I asked for their fuckin opinions. Tired of women I've only met once gossiping to our mutual friends about my jaded my sense of humor is. Tired of women telling my jokes are unattractive, as to suggest that I ever gave a shit about being attractive TO them. I resent Rea because I knew she wasn't shit, but I still left myself emotionally available to be let down. I kept my heart open for her, while her legs were open for someone else.
I'm tired of holding back the good in my heart. I'm tired of punishing the woman next to me because of the women who sit in my rearview mirror. My past is checkered, dark and full of despair. I've been punched by woman, cheated on by a woman, dumped by a woman, cops called on me by a woman, lost a job dealing with a woman, lost a scholarship messing around with a woman, and damn near changed my religion because of a woman. I don't want that to be my life's story. I'm an amazing soul when I move with a pure heart. It's been a minute since I woke in a positive mood. That changes today.
Percell deserves to be happy for Percell's sake. I deserve the right to know what I love and who I love, because I love it, and not because it's better than what I'm used to. I not living in my past anymore. It's about time that I left those feelings, those tears, those fears and those nightmares there...in the past. They aren't welcome with me on this journey anymore. I owe myself a real shot at happiness. I owe it to myself to love myself more than anyone else.
Here's to me shooting my shot at life. Triple double, no assist.
*This is my last blog post for a while. Thank you all for tuning in over the years. I'll be back eventually. For now, it's time for me to heal and grow. I pray you do the same.