This blog originally started as a place to “deposit” my thoughts. As time went on, I realized writing my thoughts wasn’t the hard part, but I was too private a person to share most of them. As more time went on, even getting the thoughts out became hard; not because I didn’t know what to say when I sat down to write, but because I didn’t like what I had to say. Anyway.. I have a few thoughts. Continue reading
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I was about 200 words into this post when I stopped & came back up here to insert this disclaimer: There is no point to this, I’m just getting words out. Carry on.
I haven’t touched this blog in so long.
I haven’t written in so long.
I haven’t let myself write in so long.
The last few times I wrote, I wrote in my journal because I had no intention of sharing that with the world anytime soon. But if I’m being honest, I’ve stopped doing even that. If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you probably know I hate writing. That’s not an exaggeration, I really do hate it. I don’t enjoy the process & all the vulnerability it requires of me. I don’t enjoy confronting things–things I’m already aware of, yet choose to live like they’re not real. I don’t enjoy figuring out exactly why I feel a certain way about something. I’ve always hated it, and yet, I did it. Because sometimes it was necessary. Because sometimes, the after effects were cathartic. I did it, until I stopped.
I’ve needed to write for almost a year now, and I refuse to. Even now, typing these words in bed while I eat Oreos I will hate myself for eating in the morning, I’m not sure what to say.
COVID-19 is really doing a number on the planet. I’m scared for what the world will look like 6 months from now, not because I expect the death toll to be some ridiculous number, but because I feel like we’re in the middle of some life-changing, forever-altering event. So far, I haven’t had any loved one fall sick (or worse), and dear God I’m praying it stays that way. I was talking to dad over the weekend and saying how I hate that I’m complaining about how being at home due to COVID is making me feel, because I know people worried about their jobs (I’m not), I know people forced to take pay cuts (I won’t be), and I know people who still have to go into work every day (I don’t). It feels like people have real worries, and me saying I hate being forced to stay home feels kinda silly.
COVID-19 is really doing a number on me. It’s hard to explain to people, because they almost all go “well you weren’t really the type to go out much before this anyway, so everything now is basically normal for you” & I don’t know how to explain that this is different. At least before all this I could look forward to leaving the house 5 days a week to head to the office; I don’t even have that anymore. And beyond that, it’s different. It just is. I don’t like spending this much free time at home, and as soon as we’re able to freely go outside again, I will cherish it more.
I need to build healthy relationships, and I need new friends. Good friends. Actual friends. Quite a few of them. Hopefully, some of them in Atlanta too.
Nugs told me something a few years ago that I’ve since called The Maze Theory. The idea is, just like a mouse in a maze just keeps moving and if it meets a dead end, it turns and tries another direction, until it makes it out of the maze through sheer persistence, there’s this faith that even when we’re not sure what God wants from us, we just keep moving and trusting that if we’re headed in the wrong direction, much like a mouse in a maze, we’ll meet a dead end that will leave us with no choice but to turn back and try a different path. It’s a very inefficient way of following God’s plan (and really, I wouldn’t recommend this be a system you adhere to for the rest of your life), but it makes sense. And when I’m trying to do something & I find myself failing repeatedly in a frustrating manner, I hold on to the belief that it wasn’t the right path for this mouse to take in the maze.
I’m a big believer in things happening when they’re supposed to. I do not say this to encourage passiveness, but I’ve found that things happen in their season, and if it’s not time, you cannot force it to happen, try as you may. It’s another thing I hold on to, when I feel like I’m toiling to no avail.
I need new friends around me. I need my people.
Monday morning. 1:41am. I can’t sleep, and so I find myself writing another “letter” you will never get to read.
The nerve of you.
It’s been almost 3 days since we last spoke. I still can’t believe it myself. This has to be the stupidest thing ever. But I’m not going to call you. I’m 100% convinced that I’m not calling you. And right now, I’m not sure I’ll even pick up if you call.
The nerve of you.
We used to say we’d never go to sleep mad at each other. And for months we did just that. I hated how frequently it seemed we were arguing & fighting over nothing. It bothered me, but I’d just say we were “working out the kinks” and getting to know each other better, so it wouldn’t always be that way. I hated fighting, but at least we never went to sleep upset. We always managed to talk things out & be at peace with one another before falling asleep, no matter how late it was… Until the first time it happened. Neither of us was willing to put pride aside & call the other, and so we went to sleep & didn’t talk things out until the next day. After that it got easier to go to bed angry & not speaking to each other. And easier. And easier…
…and now it’s been 3 days.
The nerve of you.
As usual, you’re upset over nothing. As usual. I don’t understand it. I’m not the enemy. I’ve never been. And I’ve fought my hardest to show you that. But you’re always so… Hostile. So guarded. So ready for a fight. So ready to walk away.
The nerve of you.
Whatever scars you have… Whatever wounds are still healing… Whatever fears you have… Whatever doubts you still harbor… I get it. But I refuse to be treated like I’m responsible for them any longer. This… This is not how you love someone. This is not how you treat someone you love. And THIS is why I kept telling you I can have no faith in a “love” based on feelings.
Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know certain things so I could act a certain way & get away with it. So my spirit wouldn’t be uneasy. Because it sucks more when you do the right thing & it still isn’t enough.
Yeah I think that’s it. Right now, I’m not enough for you. And that is literally the worst realization I could have come to. Because now it means I have to hide from you. I have to.
Because I’ve tried. I have tried. I haven’t given as much as I wanted, because that would only drive you further away. You. Wouldn’t. Even. Let. Me. Give. My. All. But I’ve given. I’ve been “naked.” But it’s not enough. It feels like it’s never going to be enough.
And it’s too early in this relationship for all this stress. There’s no peace anymore.
I laid my pride down for you, and it still wasn’t enough.
I bargained, I cajoled, I joked, I begged, and it still wasn’t enough.
So congratulations. You win.
I refuse to revert to being the asshole that comes so naturally to me. That’s not who I want to be. So I’m left with one option then. I’ll hide from you.
The nerve of you though…
Jan 26, 2015
- It is possible to love someone, and watch them cry.
- It is possible to love someone while being the reason they’re crying.
- It is also possible to love someone & not do anything to stop them from crying.
By far, without a shadow of a doubt in my heart, those are the hardest and yet the most important lessons I’ve ever had to learn.
Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. To my credit, I’ve almost almost stopped writing, but I can’t stop myself from thinking, especially around important dates. I thought back to “a year ago” on my birthday, on Thanksgiving, on Christmas Day, on New Year’s Eve, and now, on your birthday. Continue reading
It’s 12:33am. I’m listening to Joromi & Gone For Good on repeat (I know, I know, na me dey do myself sometimes), and for some reason I’m thinking about 1 Cor 13. Probably the most famous part of the Bible, right after “for God so loved the world…”
“[love] always protects. Always trusts. Always hopes. Always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Love never fails.
If it failed, it wasn’t love.
As much as I love kids, for as long as I can remember, I’ve never dreamed about raising a mini-me. I’ve never wondered what it would be like to teach him to love God, his wife, and Chelsea FC (in that order). I’ve always wanted a small family, and I’ve always wanted daughters. Continue reading
when you can’t find the words, but they’ve already been said in song.
Two years ago, on my little cousin’s 8th birthday, he got the gift he had always wanted: a remote controlled helicopter. He also didn’t get to spend 30 minutes with it.
He had been hinting for weeks prior that he wanted that helicopter. He had tried being subtle, then he just graduated to full on shamelessly begging for it. I kept saying I wouldn’t get it, but I already knew I would. Sure enough, on his birthday, while he was at school, I went & got the helicopter so I could surprise him when he got home. Best. Cousin. Ever? Yup. Continue reading
When we didn’t have to worry
Not about food, and not about money
Not about now, and certainly not about the future
A time of innocence, where we could find joy in anything
Simpler times, spent putting smiles on loved ones faces
When we could hope & dream with no restraints
When the only validation we wanted was mom or dad saying “good job”
Blissfully ignorant of life and all it’s harsh realities
When all was provided, when we were sheltered..