My heart is in a million pieces. Haven't felt so cut open since my grandma's death. Maybe for the first time in my life, I met somebody that I felt I could go the long haul with. None of that nagging doubt existed. In fact, it felt so real, so authentic, so tangible that I let myself get completely lost in it. Like rolling in grass and letting it cover you all over. Absolutely unconcerned about cleaning up afterwards.
Let my guard down. Took off my gloves and got dirty with it. So much so that the mere thought of what has been, of what night have been leaves me heaving for air. Tearful and broken.
No woman, no cry/ Everything's gonna be all right... I know I'll be ait. But I'm still reeling from being forced to walk away from what could've been, what must've been... love... If I could, I'd just let go. Make it as simple as dropping a book or whatever. Be dismissive as though I'm angry. But my heart still yearns for him so I'm still dealing with that.
As he suggested friendship, it felt as though, he was attempting to cushion the breaking of my heart. But it was too late. It was already shattered into countless bits. And the tears made them slippery to the touch. So he couldn't possibly pick em up and fix it. The dampness first has to dry. The pain first has to cease. And the fragility mend.
So I put the pieces of my heart into a box and went shopping instead. Even watched Next Day Air. Bullshit African-American cinema. My brain was numb. My legs felt like pieces of lead with the menstrual pains shooting through them and my tummy. And as much as I wanted to let loose, forget and enjoy myself, I kept thinking of him, I kept tearing up. In public!? Horror of horrors! So I shifted things into high-gear! I decided that I'm gonna get a tattoo. And I woulda gotten it if the salesperson had been a little bit more encouraging and his designer was around. By then I was pumped! I was itching to move on! And I was really and truly excited about something! Much better than being low and depressed.
And that's when things picked up. A very cute guy from some skater shop caught my attention. He was very adorable but either slow or heavily affected by the KP effect. And if he ever makes it on to these pages again then we'll call him Whitie coz he of where he works and the white dudes he appears to hang with. And yes, he's in keeping with the light-skinned dude theme. Can you believe it?! Will we ever go back to chocolate?!
I was tempted to give him my digits but I figured that he has a girlfriend or a somebody that he is busy getting over. Woah! Talk about jilted! Safer to expect the worse and never have to try. Wow... Thanx Cutie for that messed up way of thinking. He also told me that his gut says that we shouldn't be together. That felt really good, might I add. How he had all these reasons why we mustn't do this but he hadn't thought it beneficial to think about why it might work. For that... Just that... Fuck that nigga! Especially after claiming to love me but being ready to just let us go! Fuck him! Wish I could forget the past two months. Wish I could be driven to drugs and booze. Just so I can lapse into some amnesia!
Experience has taught me that the fastest way out of the HeartBreak Hotel is via somebody else. Although it's probably your fastest way back there! Coz feelings don't just die because somebody doesn't want you back. They either lessen over a period of time or they get transferred onto the next person. Now, do we really want that?
So next weekend, I'll return to the skater store and if Whitie is there... I'ma take it as a sign and I'll give him my digits. Now, to just get through the week and seeing Cutie. You see why I wanna go on holiday.
