This time last year, my head was on your chest. We were talking about video games, and how your night was going to consist of moments you weren’t going to remember the morning after. This time last year, I was stuck on trying to find any escape to help me avoid anything that reminded me of  the month before. This time last year, I was lost; and, frightfully enough, I was making every excuse I could to never be found again.

I’m writing this to express my amazement towards how much change can happen in so little time. This time last year, I felt defeated. But, today, I feel, see, and am grateful for every blessing I have in my life. I guess, this is just a simple reminder to myself. No matter how horrible things seem and feel, it will always get better.

I believe in a greater power. I believe in the grace and hope that justifies every lesson that I’ve had to learn. Although I may not have the knowledge, I do have enough wisdom to trust trust again, to believe in everything I’ve tried so hard to deny. So, am I spited or damned for having my walls down? Maybe- but, I do know from retrospect, everything I have ever conjured up the courage to fight for was derived from the faith in what that fight was for. With that said, as sick and tired as I was in times of struggle, it was also the most passionate and full hearted I’ve ever been. I will never give up on you, even if my ego is in pieces on the ground. That is my only promise.

She’s subsequently falling into her mindset, her virtues, and her opinions. Filing her experiences into consciousness reasoning to find answers as to how things turned out, and what they will turn into. So, every how, what, where, and why have been transformed to eloquent stories- but, in a closed book- moments that will only be touched by nostalgia or the off chance of a short lived daydream. She’s starting to realize that her life is not the entity of fated hurt, but that of life, simply, being life. Her struggles are no longer in the vain of bitterness, but lessons that have shaped her. For that, she is grateful. For that, she has opened her mind to optimism and hope. Perseverance is now her best friend, and faith, her lover. She has never been happier.

She called it skinny love because their passion was spread too thin. They had underdeveloped emotions that could only lead to pointless fights, long nights, and “word vomit”. Something of a superficial love. You could almost say that they were together to, simply, be together.

He rephrased it as a “learning” kind of love. The type where, although you may be posted against each other more often than you’d like, it was no more than lessons on how to revamp the lit interest that was already there. It was a love that would grow; it just needed time and effort to build.

She needed foresight. He needed her trust. They needed to see eye-to-eye. Unfortunately, the thin line that separated their perspectives was built with cemented pre-conceived beliefs. So, eventually, that line was too hard to cross and they soon walked the only direction they could, away from each other.

You’ve been given much more than you notice. Belittling every moment, like a pessimist, will only reflect on your ungrateful attitude. You’re blessed, and don’t you ever forget that. Everything around you, everything about you is highlighted whether you give it attention or not. The way you walk, what you’ve eaten for lunch, and simply the clothes you wear on your back are what makes you stand out. Now, it’s up to you to grasp that and realize how amazing you are; or, you can pray and wish for ignorance and choose to conform and dilute your originality. Now, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to fit in, but just know the threshold of cloning and reciprocating. Even when you’re given the opportunity to rock a fad it will still be your version of it. You are giving your own outputs just as much as people are placing thoughts into you. Be glad of that. It is never the right mindset to be him or her, just be you.

When men dissolve their unspoken troubles in shots, or women disown their worries in momentous one-night stands, their loss for direction extends to old unresolved issues. Self-medication never works. Try determining a better purpose with regret laying heavy on your shoulders. Try developing a “new you” with lingering voices of past mistakes. You just can’t. Yes, I may be over complicating, but have you ever considered that you may be over simplifying? Trying to forget something imprinted on your mind is nearly impossible. Deal with the issue. Deal with it one day at a time. Turning your back on it doesn’t make it any less solid. It’s there; it always will be until you deal with it.

So, it happened. He called you, and now you’re sitting in his black beamer, or was it blue. You can’t seem to remember because you’re just so fixated on his eyes. Damn, those eyes. Those eyes that have seen everything from your neck down.

See, it doesn’t matter if he’s tried to pick at your brain or emotions. What matters is that he’s there. There to touch you, there to hold you, there to whisper, there to take candid pictures with, there to visit- it just feels so good to have someone there. 

But, wait, do you really want that one person that gets to be there, to, simply, be just another “someone”. Shouldn’t it be a privilege to have that spot? Shouldn’t he want it more than you need it?

You’re focusing. You’re analyzing. You’re realizing. Then, it happens: Infatuation gone.

I met love on the corner of a basketball court. I met love in late night conversations. I met love in Starbucks coffee and downtown brunches. Bottom line, I met love. He was narcotic, but pleasingly calm about it. Love spoke of itself through simple good mornings, stories, and made-up games. Love was, well, lovely. But, love wasn’t single dimensional- he had an opposing personality called “un-ready”. Sad enough to say, as often as I spoke to love, that unready was brighter than everything else love could have given. That’s when I knew, love wasn’t necessarily for me. Love wasn’t necessarily for me yet. 

The thing is, I still see him in buses holding hands and sharing conversations. I still see him in songs and quotes. I still see him in late night thoughts. I still see him in everything I write. That’s how I know that even though love was “un-ready”, love will be eventually. Also, when that time comes, I know I will be too.

She was flirtatious, a prestigious bad-bitch, lost in wanting continuity in a bunch of “ours” and “his’”. She bought a gold watch, she was fixated on its’ diamonds. She wore her hair like armour, for when karma completed its cycle. They told me she was vain, I told them she was troubled. They said she had no self respect, I told them her ego was just doubled.

Her story, was something stuck on repeat- men walking in and out, she was just waiting for the one day she could have the chance to be the one to leave. Her proceeding lines were “I’m just having fun”, “I’ll live in the moment”, “fuck it, let’s get drunk”. She could do one thing well, it was to dispose of her emotions. 

But, “fun” is no longer making you happy when you have to disregard that heavy regret. If that isn’t twisted, I don’t know what is. If she isn’t twisted, I don’t know who is. I guess it’s just one lesson she hasn’t learnt of yet.

Over a steaming hot caramel-brulee latte, one of my mains, and I, came to a realization that a lot of the great women in our lives go completely unnoticed by equally amazing men- or, well, men in general.It was hard to gulp down at first because these were women that were talented, smart, driven, and dimes. 

Now, I’m not saying that they need men to fill their lives with meaning (as B once stated: “who run the world?! GIRLS!”) but, it’s just nut-head crazy how their phones aren’t being blown up by text messages or phone calls. 

This obviously led to multiple other subjects, but, ultimately, it made the fact that some women need to be able to make the first move. LET YOUR AMAZING BE KNOWN- just conjure up some fearlessness to start a conversation.

With this said, I know of some ladies (and men) that have their reasons for not making a move. More than any other reason, it’s the recollection of a past hurt. The kind of hurt that doesn’t let you “do it to it”. To that, I say, to each their own.

Let me make this clear, being a conversation starter DOES NOT make you a honky. Also, Starting a sentence with “I like your (insert accessory/clothing item here)” DOES NOT make you look like a gold digger. AND- this one is so cheeched- if you want to talk to someone because you think they’re cute, DO IT. IT DOES NOT MAKE YOU SHALLOW. Don’t over think the conversation- it’s a conversation, not an engagement ring.

If you’re wonder how, keep it simple, be yourself. It’s as easy as a hello and smile. If anything, that’s the actual best combination.

I’m not a pimp daddy mommy- I’m actually one of the most awkward people ever. But, I do know, sometimes you just need to make your own fate. Just try. Really, what’s there to lose?