This Time…

I find myself alone again, maybe the first time since I moved to California. This month is very emotional for me. This is August. The 12th was Miss E’s bday, the 16th my daddy’s. Then the dreaded 26th. That day all over again. My new beau seems to understand at moments. I believe he just gives up. He’s a person of words. The hit to the bone, but that’s not really him. He’s been through things that are so unbelievable that they have to be true. I just feel as if I’m paying for it sometimes. I “see” him. Not who he thinks he has to be.  Sometimes I can’t even look a certain way, it’s like he’s trying to run me off.

He was supposed to be going fishing tonight, but idk something happened and it’s going to be tomorrow night. I’m sorta glad he didn’t go,it meant he would hopefully come back to me. I’m selfish that way I guess. I also wish he had gone. He needed to be away from me as much as I needed to be alone. I haven’t written in so long. It’s my therapy, so why do I not take care of myself?

I’m so upset with Miss E, I could send her to the moon. She didn’t answer my text or my phone calls for her bday. I finally called and sang “Happy Birthday” and left it on her voicemail. Still, no answer. Not even FUCK YOU! I guess I really am the selfish, cold-hearted, bitch that everyone thinks I am. I really don’t care anymore. I just want to be ME. Whoever that is now. Some moments I feel as though I know who I am and what I want out of life. Other times I feel that no one understands me and I’m at the end of my rope.

The closer it gets to the “two” year anniversary mark I get more emotional. I guess in a way I feel that I’m not being faithful. In other ways, I forget, then there are days I want to crawl under a rock and hide from everyone and forget what’s happened. It works sometimes, even if just for a moment. But then the dreaded truth comes back to my head and I remember the last moments of “our” life together. The waking up with my remarkable husband, holding me and making love to me. Me, rolling over to ask what he wanted for breakfast and then off to make the coffee. I can’t remember if he even drank a sip. The last time I saw his living being, before it all ended and I lost my world. I found out how the world really is and what people think of me and who is also there for me, in a time that I need them. I’ve found that’s not too many people.

People forget. People don’t want to hear what you NEED to talk about. They use all your insecurities against you and hate you because they believe you to be a victim. I have been a victim, but I’m not using it as an excuse to like or hate me. I am who I am. I don’t try to be anything I’m not. I’ve had people tell me, “just be yourself”. The problem with that is I’m always myself. Maybe to afraid sometimes to say what I’m really thinking, but always me. This time…


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