The love of your life


A distinction

 

I’m 29 now. I remember the first time(s) I fell in love. Between 20 and 22, with two different people. Before these loves, I was completely oblivious to what it was.

I’m now in a loving relationship. It’s going stronger by the day and I’m happy.

The other day my friends asked me if he’s the love of my life. I said no, without much hesitation. He’s the great love of my life, I said.

Those four words, LOVE OF MY LIFE, describe to me what happened between 20 and 22 with those two individuals. The experiences with them were very different. In one situation it was unrequited love, it was acknowledged but not necessarily returned. In the second instant it was everything, I was given mind, body and soul.

 

This is how I experienced the loves of my life whether things were good or bad:

  • The sound of a door opening, I hoped it was them.
  • A beep on my phone, I hoped it was them.
  • When I turned a corner, I hoped they were on the other side.
  • Elevator doors opening, I hoped it was them inside.
  • In public spaces, it was them I hoped to see.
  • Footsteps.
  • My name hollered.

See this was everywhere. It wasn’t a thing of logic. My body had physical reactions to what I was feeling, a lot of adrenaline. I spent three years anticipating. Every single time it wasn’t them, my heart would sink in disappointment. Knowing this disappointment wasn’t enough; the anticipation would come back, as strong, over and over again. So many moments of breathlessness.

This is what my life was. Excitement, anticipation, disappointment. It was heroin.  I swear there were times when I thought I was going to throw up.

 

These feelings quelled over time, as most things do. I however wanted to replicate this. This is what I knew as love. I was still addicted to that rush.

It never happened. For years it never happened. I thought I’d reached my love quota. I’d peaked too early.

I then found the great love of my life. A knowing came over me. I always knew. He was the one around the corner, I always knew it was him calling/texting, I knew his footsteps – it was always him. This is, again, how it always is, whether things are good or bad.

 

I’d rather this. From heroin to kale.

 

 

​Time to go


This is for my friend who forgot to follow the music.
So quick to shell’a you, so very very quick. They come at you with their guts and desires. You take them on, for whatever reason you do.

They come to know you. You give to them, and maybe they too give to you. You’re dancing like you never have.
Time passes, things dwindle. The flames quell, as they often do. The lights go on, and home whispers to you both. 
The buck now falls with you. Now you must nurse them out of what they started. Oh they’ll tell themselves a tale of two hearts:
“I’m still in love, but it needs to end, I just don’t want to cause hurt”
Filling your space with gassy lies of favour and pity, apparently for you. 
It’s strange for a while, it doesn’t feel like anything, how can it? You inhale the gasses, you lose your mind. You scramble for your stuff.
Then a time comes. They don’t have it, you must. That bravado that started this is no more. True grit is now with you. 
It’s time to go.

My Dog’s Gone Missing


Good days were becoming a rarity in my life. Not for any other reason but my own decisions; well sometimes you’re just swinging from deadline to deadline. Even then one can make decisions, smart decisions. I decided to be happy and it actually worked. Happiness, apparently, was a thought away.

I managed to exercise everyday this week. I ate right. I was even productive at work.

Today was particularly grand.
1. Woke up at 1am to catch up on work.
2. Smoked one cigarette in total.
3. Flirted with nice boys and gals.
4. I cheated on my diet with only two biscuits, and there were a lot of snacks going around.

I drove home beaming. Five minutes after my arrival mama gives me a ring. My first instinct was to not take her call. This was for no particular reason. Perhaps I wanted to preserve my good mood. I let go of that selfish thought and picked up her call.

“I just got back from work. I can’t find Daisy anywhere”.

Those words didn’t make sense. They still don’t make sense. She’s never left the yard alone before ever and she’s turning five this December. Why would she suddenly stray?

“Oh my God. Someone stole my Daisy.”

Mama was bordering on hysteria, as any mother would do. I tried to calm her down, it didn’t work much. She was on a mission to find Daisy. A mission I was too far away to support. It was also dark and cold. I wanted my mama to at least be home safe and warm.

“I can’t go to sleep. I’m going to find my Dog.”

At this point I walked into my bedroom and started crying and bargaining with God. She’s the sweetest thing my Daisy. Loves everything and everyone. She’ll exhaust you with her energy and sulk the whole day if you reject her. 

I’m so glad that I was completely exhausted. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep at all.

It’s been five hours since then. It wasn’t a horrible dream. Daisy is still missing. Is happiness still a thought away? Yes, it is. This truth has revealed itself to me. Right now though, Daisy is the only thing I’m thinking of.

Please come home soon Daisy!

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Looting. Is it really worth it?


Looting seems so dangerous and exhausting and stupid. I wonder if it involves any planning. Do you leave your house knowing which shops are hot spots?

First you have to compete with other looters for the stuff you want. They could have experience and need it more. There you are reaching for butter and you get elbowed in the throat because it’s the last one.

Then you must run with all that stuff. I mean, how do you even know your level of fitness for running with groceries? Then a lazy, or smart, looter trips you and takes all your stuff.

Don’t forget the popo! Damn popo! If they find you it’s so over. Oh popo love beating looters. Rightly so. I actually want to beat them too. I mean fuck is wrong with you? This ain’t no crazy sale. Have you lost your mind?

And then, because it’s 2015, you get caught on camera and images of you are all over the Internet because you wanted free shit. The humiliation.

Don’t loot guys. It’s not worth it.

P.s. Please listen to Baltimore by Nina Simone. Such a beautiful song.

P.s. My manager is like “You don’t have to come in today. But I’ll really appreciate it if you do.” Like…I don’t know if I want to be appreciated.

19 Struggles Of Having An Outgoing Personality But Actually Being Introverted


Introversion Effect

Like many categorizing systems, the separatist thinking behind them attempts to firmly place us in one container or another.  The flaw in these types of systems is that they don’t always take into account the middle areas of the spectrum.  And any system is just that: a spectrum.  I’ve long stated with unequivocal certainty that I’m introverted.  My friends, however, look at me askance, because I’m actually very fun-loving and outgoing when I need to be.  So on that introvert/extravert spectrum, I fall somewhere to the introverted side, but exhibit limited extroverted tendencies.  Here is an article found on Thought Catalog by Brianna West that I have updated to reflect this: 

1. You’re not anti-social, you’re selectively social. It’s not that you don’t like going out, it’s that you are very choosy about when, where, and for how long. 

2. At any given point, you have one (maybe two)…

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18 Things We Should Have Been Taught As Teenagers


Thought Catalog

1. Hard work will not always equate to success. You can put up a good fight and still lose. There are just some things that, for whatever reason, we have to carry with us.

2. There will probably come a day when you want to study something that has (seemingly) no future benefit. Study it anyway. There will probably come a day when you want to be with someone who you know won’t last forever. Love them anyway. There will probably come a day when you want to leave something, or someone, and instead of looking for a reason, you should let that wanting be enough. Go anyway.

3. You shouldn’t ever assume to know the truth about someone. Addiction doesn’t always look like a drug-addled homeless person on the street, mental illness isn’t always apparent, pain does not always read across a person’s demeanor. Don’t judge people on the…

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From A Guy’s Perspective: 9 Things We Want Out Of A Relationship


Thought Catalog

Friday Night Lights

1. Someone Who Gets Us In The Weird Ways

Not on like a deep, sappy emotional level. That too I guess, but really just someone who understands that we hate it when people have to mention the fact that they liked the book better than the movie, or that we don’t like it when people stand up on airplanes the second the plane lands.

It’s the acknowledgement of those little things that makes it not so much as relationship as it does a really fun time with someone who’s fun to hang out with. Speaking of…

2. Someone That’s Ridiculously Fun To Hang Out With

I would say this is by far the most important thing. Great looks are nice and physical attraction obviously helps, but looks alone are exactly like having a tricked out car that breaks down after a few weeks — good for a few rides, then…

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While Wearing Their Pretty Dresses, They Ruined Lives: 12 Years A Slave & the Role of White Women in Slavery


Olivia A. Cole

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I saw 12 Years A Slave this weekend. Aside from crying uncontrollably for about 80% of the film—not an exaggeration: please take a box of tissue to the theater if you see it—I was struck by many things the film did in its portrayal of the institution of slavery and the people that upheld it. For starters, I think a spectacularly effective job was done in imparting the terrifying helplessness and profound unfairness of the system: long moments of silence juxtaposed with instances of extreme violence emphasized the normalcy of brutality; the environment that black children were raised in and alongside, an environment in which their parents and elders were subject to torture, degradation, and murder. That was life, 12 Years informs us. A life in which a child can play tag alongside a man hanging from his neck by a tree…because there was nothing that could be done…

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7 Ways To Pull Yourself Out Of A Quarter-Life Crisis


Thought Catalog

1. Admit it sucks.  

Say it out loud; a Quarter-Life Crisis is a #BagOfDicks. It’s an anxious period in a 20-somethings life where you’re directionless and spiritually you don’t know your head from your butt. One moment you’re breaking necks and cashing checks, the next you can’t find the initiative to construct a cheese sandwich. Sure, a Quarter-Life Crisis is typically a #FirstWorldProblem but it’s your drama; just accept that IT BLOWS.

2. Reach out to older people.

Put up your hand to the folk in your life who are at least a decade or more your senior and let them know. Um, hello, I feel as though I know what to do next in life. I’m lost. Know what I’m saying? Chances are they’ve been there alright – numerous times (there will be a few of these crises, hate to break it to you). An older person can…

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This ‘Royals’ Cover About The Realities Of Being In Your 20s Is Incredibly Accurate (And Hysterical)


Thought Catalog

This girl covers Lorde’s Royals and changes the lyrics to talk about the bleak realities of being 10 years out of high school. We laugh because if we don’t, we’ll cry. [tc-mark]

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