Adding Value

1:36 Am 

I was super sleepy when my friends left around 11 pm. Now I’m still wide awake. 

I think it’s because I didn’t accomplish the main goal I had in mind for today. I’m currently in day 3 of a 15- day timeline of eviction. The pressure is REAL. 

As many people as I encountered at the Emergency Assistance Center and in court made me feel way less embarrassed, and more confident in the spiritual place I was in. I felt that there was power in the feeling of standing in a ridiculously long line for a handout. I also felt this all-surrounding presence in the hallway of the courthouse with my landlord’s attorney. It’s this feeling of big-ness. Like I’m truly a spirit living in a human body. I left the courthouse Wednesday morning feeling like my $13 Lyft ride wasn’t a complete waste. The longer I stood there breathing, looking around, standing- the feeling dissipated. My confidence shrank. I felt like a pea in a sea of saltwater. I felt hopeless. I walked to the nearest hotel and sat in the lobby. The pair of sitting Buddha statues by the pool mocked me. I sat. Texted a few people. Then I sat some more. I was out of answers. I was out of energy to fight. But I knew I didn’t want to give up. (Salud to growth and self improvement!) I knew that whatever is coming next MUST be better than my present and my past. It simply has to be. 

The foolishness of my decision to put my faith in the word of a man I barely knew haunts me. I stood alone in the ruin. I replayed and replied and cried. What is it about me that always attracts the crazies?? HOW did I stay celibate for so many years in Raleigh, and the first person I’ve actually liked in many years crossed me? I couldn’t understand. My time on the dusty shelves of Pick-Me’s-R-Us did nothing for my common sense. If anything, I feel it made me stupider. More naiive, and more desperate for the spark. The spark never arrived in me and my past lover’s union. The relationship failed because it never lived. I’m over it now, though. There’s no turning back. I’m not even the same person I was when I met him. I’m definitely not in the same whirlwind of confusion his influence brought. I think I’ve actually let it go! These long days at home and indulgence in sweet potatoes has done me real good. I’m happy and peaceful. 

In 2012, I was in a situation-ship that almost exactly mirrored my recent relationship. He was older, immature, emotionally unstable, less accomplished, and way too confident in the glow I gave him. I took verbal and emotional abuse for the sake of that feeling. I craved the space my mind floated to when I was comfortable and satiated. The vibes were real. I enjoyed the sex. And he kept me laughing. The good times were so good, the outside world didn’t exist. I absolutely loved my blissful little bubble. 

He changed faces on me, too- pretty quickly. Soon enough, I was told I was an opportunity for a “single n*gga to get his rocks off”. But I didn’t take that chance to disconnect. He had already moved in, and I was trapped. I remember how low I felt in that moment. How absurd it was that these actual words were coming out of his actual mouth and entering my actual ears. I was too shocked to say anything. What could I say to defend myself? How was I supposed to be a Queen? Was I? I sure didn’t feel like it. I felt like vapor. Thin, barely visible, and rich with the atoms of good intention. 

The ghetto love story I thought I wanted played out twice in my life before I took my chance. Breaking up with my last man served as an opportunity to finally defend myself. I did so- fiercely. I had no secrets, and his were far exposed, so I made some dirt. “Thinking like a man” in order to successfully “pull a him on him” still didn’t give me that spark, that feeling. I was paranoid the whole time I was with my other guys- thinking that somebody gave a fuck about where I was. I was also a bit stressed, thinking about working sex schedules in with my favorite dip (Dip = Chicago slang for side piece). I was manipulated with the belief that I was valued beyond my ability to provide. The ways in which I tried to play a n*gga played myself. I tried to survive his shortcomings by doing what he does in his “free” time.  But I think spending time with people who can’t help me elevate is a waste of time. Meeting random hoes and spending time in unfamiliar places doesn’t excite me. A transformation started happening the moment I realized that the things I think about and consider exciting were out of my boys’ reach. Probably isn’t in the realms of their minds. The difference between me and these men, is that I know how to make me happy. I know what I want to hear, where I want to go, how I like to live. 

The guy from the relationship actually made me miss the guy from the situation-ship lol. They were so much alike, that I mistook it for nostalgia. I wished for a glimpse into my old boy’s life. I wanted to check on him, talk to him. 

I didn’t. But I still do feel the urge. I want to know how he lives now- pushing 30 with no high school diploma. Has he had kids? Are they ugly? I secretly was always adamant about not getting pregnant by him because he got his strong face from his mom….

The new breath I’ve been blessed with is renewing me. It’s calming my anxiety with the skill of trigger monitoring. The past has been blurry and dark. But the future is scary and bright. I’m proud to be courageous enough to run toward it- arms stretched wide with feet burning from the sands on my blissful little beach. 

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