1:52 am: Exit the Metaphysical, Enter the New Real: Autobiographical @ 28

It is odd to me that somewhere inside me lies a weakness to hold on to things that I have no possession of, in hopes that if I nag or bug enough, or send enough smiling pictures it will one day change things. Tonight I realized this is not true. This is not going to change anyone’s mind. This is not going to make him fall in love with you again. It may – prolong your pain, and let you live a metaphysical existence. Letting him tell you that his crazy is too much for you to handle, that you do not want him, etc etc. I call this my 3-year-old coffee and tonight I took a huge whiff of it. I did not like the way it smelled. It smelled like a person my mother didn’t raise – smelled of a weak minded and simple person.

It stopped at 1:52 a.m.

I recently had lunch with my best friend Jessica and she in all her amazing wisdom (she is really beyond her years) said something to me that opened my eyes on relationships forever. She said, “He should love you the same way you love yourself.” Granted she was talking about my sick obsession with fall in love with closeted men, it totally fits with this realization of self-worth.

I wrote a poem to myself and did not know where it came from. Now I know it was my subconscious preparing me for tonight, lol. Realization comes.


Autobiographical @ 28

My favorite color is yellow,
& I don’t like my current
age. Most days I can sense when my mind
is playing tricks on me – before anyone
can tell I’m having an off day,
similar to the way I can smell
myself first after forgetting
to put on deodorant in the morning.

I find I speak
to myself to prevent
a state of constant solo. I’m a romantic,
hopeless to the countless manifestations
of reality in love endured.

My blood pressure
is always high, but I still love
mashed potatoes with salt,
butter & milk. The dentist
tells me to floss more – I remind
him that (although my gag-
reflex is usually on vacation) my fingers
don’t fit back there & it’s awkward.

The besties say I’m a mess,
and spend too much time
in the mirror – I tell them the mirror
is comfortable – I know the length
of my eyelashes – the width of my eyes—
the roundness of my stomach – the bushiness
of my pubes – the gradation
of pigment in my skin
from face
to feet – it’s comfy
it’s a teacher by reflection.

So thank you Jessica… I have decided that my 3-year-old coffee is not fair to the real me. It is not fair to be lead on intentionally or unintentionally because someone feels his life is too frenzied to make a decision. I am 28 years old, and I admit I am afraid deep down to be alone. Afraid to be unwanted. Afraid to be unknown. Afraid to be unsuccessful. Afraid to be… a number of things. At this moment, I am okay with all of this. It is okay for me to be afraid of things, as long as I continue to learn. Continue to know my worth. Continue to know that I deserve to be wanted, and not to accept less.