Dear Brandon.
My my my, how far I've come.
I used to love the SHIT out of you. Like, open heart, open mind, open body - Love. The. Shit. Out. Of. You. When people asked me about you, I used to say the word; Perfect. How interesting. My complete happiness used to make other couples fight about why they weren't so happy.
Don't get me wrong. You aren't perfect (Hell, nobody is perfect) I saw your faults. All of them. But you know what? For the first time in my 24 years on this planet - I liked someone on the days that I didn't want to like them. So what did I do? I embraced it. And yes, I adored you.
I was so heart broken when we broke up. I think it was the first time in my life I had ever been dumped. You may argue that, "no no no, Thobe. It was you who broke up with me." Or, "it was mutual, remember?" No babes. All I did was say what you had been wanting to say for over 40 days (there's a back story to that number). I just signed the dotted line, I did. The sabotage, the un-epic death of the whole relationship was all you. I never had a single idea of why you wanted to break up with me, other than the usual assumption of - maybe he wants to fuck someone else. Nothing added up. Even now when I read over old entries, I still don't get it. I just followed the bouncing ball and put you out of your apparent misery and did myself a "bitch you'll thank me later" favor.
I had never tried so hard to get over someone. No matter what I did, everything was declining progress. Day in, day out I'd watch my phone - willing it to light up and say it was you. It was the most pathetic time of my life. I went through it all... Confusion, Anger, Rejection, Self-Medication... then Anger again when I went to pick up my things from your house to see gigantic hickeys on your neck. And then Rejection all over again when I saw your new girlfriend. Needless to say, I made a whole story up to get a grip on the level of turmoil happening inside my ribcage. All the while, only publicly losing it Once. On Facebook. For about 5 statuses straight, I shat on you, and your new one. Barry had to send an emergency text telling me to #ceasefire. Then I erased them all. Stood very still. Took a seat, and proceeded to call the heartbreak hotel. How sad is that? It's very sad. Very. Sad. Especially, for a Lady.
It took me three months to let another man touch me.
I don't mean fuck here. I mean touch.
Literally. And anybody who knows me knows THAT is worth noting. My buddies where asking me what was up with my lack of action? Underneath that guise of a smile - I just lied
I never drank so much in my life. And I don't even feel better when I drink.
The man that broke that spell was so... unlike me. It was embarrassing. There was very little wrong with him. He used to cook me dinner after work, lay my bed, give me his car for entire weekends, totally spoil me... to just scratch the surface... pun intended. But he was just transitional. He emotionally took me from the hotel, back home. Where I was comfortable, and where a plethora of ninja's waited for a major massacre attack.
Anyway. Now that I'm good, and I know you're really good. Then all is good. I doubt if any of this is news to you. You may not have KNOWN what I was going through but I think you instinctively knew that I was floored. I for one, never want to go through that shit ever again. Uh uh! No sir.
I promised you excerpts from the diary from The Time:
---- Saturday, September 19, 2009
Depressed. Lost the best boyfriend ever, maybe because he served his purpose. Getting me out of a slump. He wanted out. I should have known, but I chose denial. But I’m not sad. Grown uppest break up ever. I might cry at an unpredictable moment. First relationship I never cheated with. Thoughts everywhere, I wish it ended differently. Wish it ended ultimately. I think I’m going to end up crying. I self medicate with alcohol.
----Monday, September 20, 2009
Damn. This shit hurts. I keep remembering him bringing up silly reasons not to be with me anymore, like Please, just leave. I’m hurt. Everyone knew we were perfect. Of course, why else would I stay with him? Everyone’s waiting for me to breakdown, but like Mariah, I breakdown when nobody’s looking.
----Sunday, December 20, 2009
Isaac came over last night. He had contacted me twice during the week and I blew him off. I called him so he could fuck my lights out, but he came. Saw me painting. We talked on the couch for about 2 hours. He said he was ready to go, but he wouldn’t walk out, so I pecked him, and he kissed my neck – I was so turned on, but since it had been observed that this man is interested in me, I mentally refused to fuck him, although if he seduced me by kissing me in the comfort of my zebra satin sheets, I would not have resisted the temptation. Which he did not. So we did not. He spent the night and did not try to fuck me; he must be seriously considering me. Sweet.
It was 92 days before I let another man touch me.
-Namaste-
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