twenties

I’m Single And Okay With It

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“Full disclosure: I have a girlfriend.” A friend texted me yesterday minutes before we were to grab a drink. I laughed to myself thinking this must have been slightly eating at him. Conversing with me regularly, not lying, but omitting the whole truth. We had fleeting moments of dating at times when my heart wasn’t whole, but in the recent months we were just friends.

And last night that’s what I needed, a friend, neutral ground to be with someone who knows me. I was coming off a couple days in the countryside with a man with potential, but after real chats with intention and dimension I knew we would never be more than friends. And it saddened me, but more so I just couldn’t wait to drop him off.

It’s funny how the heart knows, holding its contents tight, waiting for the one worth opening for. I wanted it to be real, but I could not for the life of me get my body to feel, anything. So I texted my “friend” I wanted comfort; connection with someone I know would just be there for me. A man I knew who would answer and listen.

I wondered if he thought I was texting him for a rekindling, knowing I have a tendency to keep my intentions cryptic. (What do you mean you can’t read my mind) I loved his straight forwardness and the fact he respects his girlfriend enough to tell me about her. I said “that’s fine” and finished with “actually that’s awesome, when and who and she’s a lucky girl”

We need more truth tellers, more men who are clear with their intentions in and out of relationships. I’m strive to fuck my morse code because vulnerability isn’t always comfortable (ironic I know), but I need a man with presented clear intentions and that requires me to do the same. I think when you meet someone who is your forever person you just know. I haven’t felt in the know for a long while.

And although that lack of knowledge scares me at times, I have a feeling its just part of the process. I don’t care to know anymore. I let my heart take the lead long ago And my mind eventually comes in tow I don’t believe we choose to love whom we do, but fate in the ultimate gate to courtship.

So for now I trust, it’s a must, a non negotiable when it comes to you and me. 

(Published on August 24, 2017 on Thought Catalog)

Dating Fate

I ran into the one from my past. 

The one that broke me open, left me unsure I'd ever find another lover.

The one I moved cities for and left cities to escape.

I hurt for a long time after we parted

He was my first true lust

The kind of love you develop in the most non challant of ways

A drunk haze

The youth of our folly 

But dear god you made it holy

The "I'm not looking for love but this is a divine time and we cannot predict the way hearts align"

So I gave in and he got under my skin

But sometimes good things have to end.

••• "I'll see you around."

••• "Absolutely" I smiled back knowing we'll never see each other again.

He was in my hood'.

And I was talking to him the way I talk to customers at work.

••• "I saw your brother last week"

•••"He mentioned that."

Even after three years, the air is thick with words unsaid and threads in my head. 

I was going to go to the hardware store, but I decided to be on time. 

I didn't know i had a date with fate.

Destiny is always fucking with me.

I must be pure entertainment for fate and his fickle friends.

Shit like this is always happening to me....or for me. 

I'm taught the latter looms closer to the truth. 

He held Thai food by his side and I wondered if his order is still the same.

Drunken noodles. To match his mind.

I never thought I would walk by this boy turned man and not want to cry.

I still love him but in a you were so good for my younger heart kind of appreciation. 

You eventually stop missing someone you no longer know.

Even so, he may always have a piece of my heart in tow.....

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Rooted Rebellion

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I never knew the tattoo I have on my wrist existed in real life.

I finally found my roots tangled on the edge of a college campus in the south. 

Sometimes you dream up images years before they appear. 

I got my tattoo when I was 16, I'm 27 now.

It only took 11 years for me to find the tree I have etched into my wrist.

I used my best friends ID to get that tattoo.

She was 2 years older. 

While my other friend got a heart tattooed on her underparts, I chose a tree. 

It's an odd tattoo for a teenager to want, but there was always a wiseness in my rebellion. 

A sort of let's try this out, but let's make it meaningful as well. 

I will be bad, but with intention.

The subconscious is a know it all even when we want to ignore, we know. 

We always know. 

I still rebel, mostly with intention, but with a respect for myself and the earth. 

Rebellion has taken on a new meaning these days, a rebellion again perspectives I used to accept without question. 

A retaliation against beliefs I once thought were ok. 

A coming home to my true self, the uncovering of what was always there. 

A girl, rooted in her body, expanded in her mind, looking up for the questions, at moments in time.

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This is Being 26.

 

5 day-old wine stains my bottom sheet.
I’ll do the laundry tomorrow I think to myself. 
Amazon boxes, a water filter missing the proper appendages to function
and bowls once inundated with #glutenfree cereal lay strewn around my room
Sundays soul cycle garb, sweaty & untouched in a complimentary plastic bag
A millennial museum.
My wireless printer too smart for my old computer sits incompatible, adjacent to pictures that will never be hung
Crystals to clear my Aura that have just stopped working their magic on my windowsill.
So much potential lies within this room yet a film of apathy lingers
I got up today I rejoice
Now what.
Craigslist.
Who wants to hire me?
This is 26.
Who needs money when you have passion!
My rent gives me the side smile.
Who’s hungry?!
Sweet green for all! 
My father’s credit card still attached to the app. 
For my health I tell myself. 
Greens with a side of parental guilt, my favorite meal.
I finally hung that mirror last week, success.
It came 3 inches from concussing me in my sleep last night. 
This is 26.
A text: Renew your Obamacare. Xoxo Dad
I’ll adult later. 
A banner: Shannon from Hinge likes my story.
Did I accidentally click the interested in females button?!
No, it’s Shannon the boy. 
Phew. 
He’s a Trump supporter, next.
This is 26.
So and so successful person was broke and sleeping on his friends couch at 27, so that gives me approx 5 months to be somebody.
But I’m all Kings of Leon I could “use somebody”
That’s the easy way out.
If I wanted my Mrs. I would have pursued that in college.
I choose the teacher.
Cause I love to learn.
The hard way. 
This is 26. 
My banks fraud department called me yesterday.
Was I trying to purchase something at the BIG & TALL store?
No, not lately.
I’m on a budget.
This is 26.
I have two job interviews this week.
“To supplement my income”
Cause passion doesn’t pay the bills…yet.
Started from the bottom, now we here. 
Wish me luck, this time I’ll give a fuck.

(Published December 16, 2016 by Thought Catalog)