Memoirs of a 28 year old

I looked into my grandma's eyes and she said to me "I need you to hit the lotto, because I'm tired. I can't work anymore" she said it with a smile and as a joke.... But that killed me inside. This is the woman who made sure I went to etiquette class so no one would prejudge me. Who, when my absent minded mother was off in lala land, made sure I was still set in life. When I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish college cause I had too many loans, she paid cash so I could get that degree.

I'm 28. Actually this is my last day as 28. A few hours from 29. My last year of my 20’s and I look at the life I'm living and it's not at ALL like the life I thought I'd have. I thought I'd be married with a kid(s), living in an apartment in Westchester about to buy a home, working as a Marketing manager by now. Instead, I'm single, living with a roommate, and doing event planning. Granted, I'm blessed. But when you look at the day to day, and you see those Sallie Mae bills that make you contemplate the different ways you can chef up Ramen Noodles (I like adobo and Siracha), you think everyone living better than you and you just wonder where you went wrong.

You didn't. Everyone is trying to grind out, everyone is trying to be better. Some people were blessed with talents, or recognition of their passion at early ages. I don't think anyone except for Oprah or Beyonce is where they want to be in life and even those heffas still pushing.  

We look at age and we expect more. We give each ourselves these false timelines based off of where others are (who are honestly aren’t just as good as them seem) and we depress ourselves. We discourage ourselves. We go from being our own biggest fan, to our worst critic. Our mindset  becomes our biggest obstacle. 

I cried that night grandma said that to me. I cried rewriting these words. But, I didn’t let it hinder me. I use it as a positive driving force daily. When I wonder why I wake up and do what I do, I remember her face. Im not a creative, i don’t have a talent thats my “passion”. My passion is the people I love. Making them proud, and being there for them in any way possible. So if thats working my ass of at a 9-5 thats really a 9-9 so my grandma doesn’t have to worry about buying a dress for a church dance… ill do that with a smile. 

You are exactly where you are supposed to be on your journey. Dont let others show you how to live your life.  

Blurred Lines

I knew I fucked up when I watched him sleep and I smiled he was at peace next to me.

I knew I fucked up when in the middle of the night he put his arm around me, and I didn’t shy away. I actually nuzzled closer. I don’t cuddle. I hate it. I knew I fucked up.

But, to see the words, “I don’t want to lead you on” and feel my chest tighten, thats when I was SURE I fucked up.

"I don’t want to blurred lines”… I actually chuckled through tears at my text at the Robin Thicke reference. Wait…. tears. Why the fuck was I crying?

Not only was I crying, I was sobbing. In my grandmas bathroom. My waterproof eyeliner was no match for the stream of heavy tears mixed with salt and sadness. I looked in the mirror confused. I didn’t understand my own emotions. I didn’t understand why I was so hurt. I moved back and forth between rooms so my family wouldn’t get suspicious. I couldn’t fake like I saw something sad on TV. I was sobbing like there was a death. Shit, I felt like there was one.

I knew I fucked up.

I realized I loved this man one day randomly AFTER we stopped talking/dating/canoodling/whateva you young kids call it now. He was coming to brunch with me and some friends and he made me get out the car to hug him. When I got in his arms, it felt right. It felt like I was supposed to be there. It felt like love. Not the explosive Chris Brown/Rihanna love. I wasn’t IN love. It felt like the love that starts at your soul. The love that is the hardest to get rid of because it doest shock you. Its creeps up on you. Its builds within you slowly until its overcome you and you are just confused. 

I was confused. 

But here we were again, years later. A random rekindle went from a night, to a weekend, to days, to weeks, to months. Im buying groceries he likes cause I know he’ll be there within the next seven days. Im thinking about him in my decisions for the future because he’s been around on and off for 3 years, so I see no reason why he wouldn’t be there. No, he’s not my man, but I was cool with that.

“I was cool with no commitment. Wait, No, let me take that back. It was you, so I was with it”- Destiny Child ‘Is She The Reason’

We established what we were from jump. I understood and accepted that. All I ever wanted was him around consistently. So I figured this was cool. Im an adult. I can handle it. 

I lied to myself.

I realized that sometimes, we settle for half of someone because its better than none. He did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. My feelings sucker punched me like Sharkeisha. I don’t hate him. My friends do, but I don’t. He cares but he didn’t lie. He didn’t disrespect me. I disrespected myself. I was cool giving my all to someone who was giving me his minimum. I was happy to just have him close. I convinced myself were were on the same page. But we weren’t. The lines were blurred more than my vision behind the tears of utter pain. Or maybe it was blurred because I had been drinking for days. 

But what do you do when no one is wrong, only the situation is? What do you do when love isn't enough, but is damn sure is a lot? What do you do when your heart and your brain are fighting to the death and it shows in your face? You become selfish. You realize you deserve more. You don't want to be alone, but honestly, are you not alone? You're prolonging the inevitable. You have to realize you are worth more than scraps and find someone who can see that. It can be him, but thats going to take work. Hard work. You also have to realize its not your fault. Dont make anyone think you are a weak bitch. You had the capacity to love a human being despite not being in fairy tale conditions. You tried to be there for someone you thought deserved your love. I tried to love me enough for the both of us. Things is, that only sounds good on a Drake song. Jhene forgot how hard it is to love yourself just for you at times. Catchy ass lyric, unrealistic ass logic.

I was not insecure, but he gave me no security. For this I had to make the conscious effort to leave. Not because he was a horrible person, but because he was an amazing person. He was amazing, but he wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready either, but I was willing.

A man who isn’t ready to love, is a challenge. But a man who isn’t willing to love is suicide mission.