…forget about him?
…live my life as though he did not exist?
…chase my dreams, even though being with him is my dream?
…forget about love and romance, and focus on self-love and self-care?
…forget about marriage and children, and focus on changing the world?
…forget about trying to change him and focus on changing myself?
…forget about his happiness and think about my happiness?
…just do me?
Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment.
Maybe I’m insane. Delusional.
But every time you text me, I text back, thinking that things will be different.
You draw me in with your pretty words.
You draw me in with your inconsistent care.
And then frustration shakes me awake. Why do I make myself so available for you?
You don’t give me half the time, emotion and energy that I devote to you. You take what I give you, and like a miserly penny-pincher, you barely give me anything in return.
I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you. I want my heart back. I want my mind back. I want my time back. I want my life back.
I don’t know why I give you so much of myself, when you give me so little.
But this I know for sure, your time is up.
It’s you again.
I deleted our conversations. Deleted your number. I told my heart to forget you. And yet my mind hoards memories like a starving orphan. My heart stirs with treacherous longing.
The look in your eyes. I can’t forget the way your eyes would light up when you saw me. The ways your eyes would flash with delight and desire. The boyish smirk that would cross your lips when I told funny stories.
Your laugh. A study in contrasts. Your head would droop, your eyes would shut tightly. Your torso would shake so violently, and yet you’d barely make a sound. I loved making you laugh.
Your voice during our late night conversations was enough to make my body ache with lust and desire. You never had to touch me. You just had to speak and I would long to be in your arms.
I told my heart to forget you. My heart is a rogue renegade. I try to build case after case against you:
- Your breath stinks….sometimes lol
- Your teeth… are crooked
- You’ve slept with one woman, and kissed a few others… so easily… always so easily
- You are prideful
- You are deeply wounded
- You are confused
- You think you want a Latina…. a Latina I am not
- You’re weird…awkward… and sometimes annoying
- You’re not as mature as I would expect for someone of your age
- You’re not as accomplished as I would like for someone of your age
- You don’t reciprocate in the ways that I want you to
- You don’t love me and appreciate me the way I want you to
But these petty grievances are not enough to quench the burning ache. I FUCKING LOVE YOU! I want to be with you.
- You’re so passionate
- Your sense of humor has me laughing for days and constantly on my toes
- You want to do better
- You love people
- You are oh so intelligent, and oh so humble about it… to the point of insecurity, which is really sad
- You’re tall
- When it’s summer, your skin tans to a delicious light brown…. like caramel #melaninpoppin
- You’re handsome. Your hair, your smile (I love your smirk), your body (that I haven’t seen lol. Virgin here)… especially your arms. How many times have I imagined those same arms holding me
- Your inner strength…. you’ve gone through shit. And yet you’re still here, still kicking
- Your faith.
I told my heart to forget you. As I drowned my sorrows in bitterness, eating its fruits, I thought that at last, at last I had reached the point of no return. I was ready to bid you adieu once and for all. I imagined you moving to NY and finding another woman… a Latina to be with, that would make you happy. I imagined feeling so free and happy for you. I was ready to move on. Or so I thought.
But my fucking heart. Can’t. Forget. You.
I’m turning 25 in July, and it’s making me think more and more about my future. So I decided to write a letter to my 30 year old self.
Dear 30 Year Old Self,
Greetings from your past! Currently life is kinda hard. You’re in transition. You’ve been suspended from your job and you have no idea whether you’ll be fired. You are over $125,000 in debt, and are making less than $40,000 a year. You are struggling to understand where God is in all of your mess, but you haven’t given up faith or hope. Even though your 24 year old self has gotten the shit knocked out of her, she is still ever optimistic. Here is what your 24 year old self is hoping for you in the future.
- She hopes that you have forgiven yourself for all past mistakes. Shit happened. Move on. Get over it.
- She hopes that you have forgiven everyone who has done you wrong. Shit happened. Move on. Get over it.
- She hopes that you have learned to love yourself well and are comfortable in your own skin. You are an incredible human being. You are unique. To admit that is not entitlement, arrogance or conceit. It’s stating facts.
- She hopes that you have learned to control your thoughts better. You are not a victim of your mind. You can cultivate your mental garden. It takes discipline, but you can do it.
- She hopes that you are debt free!!!!
- She hopes that you are making HELLA BANK! You’ve worked so hard for so long. Hopefully you’re enjoying the fruits of your labors.
- She hopes that you are with a man who is deeply in love with you and devoted to you. You are such an extravagant lover. Hopefully you’re with someone who reciprocates that.
- She hopes that you are free from your approval addiction. You can do bad and good all by yourself. You don’t need people to tell you what you already know.
- She hopes that you are doing what you love. Life is too short to waste time on frivolous and meaningless pursuits.
- She hopes that you are enjoying healthy, balanced relationships with family and friends. These kinds of relationships are important and not to be taken for granted.
- She hopes that you have furthered your education and have gained more skills and connections. Hopefully you’ve graduated from Harvard with a JD/MBA. Hopefully you’ve met some amazing people and have had the opportunity to not just learn and glean from them, but also add value to their lives.
- She hopes that you are currently owning your own business, if not several. Entrepreneurship has always been on your heart and mind. Hopefully you’re living the dream.
- She hopes that you matured in your faith. Hopefully you have a greater perspective on the purpose of suffering, and the beauty of redemption
- She hopes that you have added value to many people’s lives and are living your dream of making the world a better place.
- She hopes that you have travelled extensively and have experienced the delicious cuisines and the beautiful landscapes of many other countries and cultures
- She hopes that you are enjoying life, are content and are grateful for every minute
So lol I have a lot of thoughts today. Lots of questions. Lots of desires. Lots of dreams. Lots of realizations.
One realization I had today is the extent to which I’ve allowed mediocrity to infiltrate every aspect of my life. I settle for just good enough time and time again. I set low-hanging fruit goals and deceive myself into thinking that I’m doing well.
I take on the values and metrics of other people… and allow other people’s ideas of excellence to inform my definitions of what excellence looks like.
No more. I define what excellence looks like. I create the standard. I’m done doing just good enough. Obviously this is easier said than done, and it’s a journey. But I’m tired of living a life far below my potential. When was the last time you were hungry for excellence? When everything within you cried out to be awesome and to do awesome?
I think back to certain experiences I’ve had over the past few years, when I pushed myself to create excellence (my Master’s thesis, countless other research projects and papers, etc). I can’t let anyone beat out my drive and ambition. I can’t let anyone allow me to settle for less. Not even myself.
I’m so over mediocrity.
A few years ago, I found out that JK Rowling, author of Harry Potter, was the first person to become a billionaire by writing.
As an aspiring writer, I was INSPIRED!
Can you imagine penning words that inflame and excite the hearts of millions?
I want to write words that change people’s lives. Words that give people hope. Words that help people deal with their pain.
JK Rowling was fired from her job because she spent so much time dreaming and secretly working on her Harry Potter novel.
She continued to work on her novel, with the support of a severance check (a luxury I don’t have). She submitted a manuscript to an agent, and was subsequently rejected from 12 publishing houses.
But she didn’t quit. Neither will I. Whatever happens with this stupid job, whether I’m allowed to finish out the school year or not, I won’t quit on myself or my life. There’s greatness in me waiting to be released. I just need to believe in myself and start making moves.
- Quit my job
- Start my own mentoring business for middle and high school girls
- Be a multi-billionaire
- Attend Harvard with my best friend and successfully complete a JD/MBA
- Be a serial entrepreneur
- Travel the world
- Marry the man of my dreams, have amazing sex and make beautiful babies
- Help my family out
- Change the world, inspire billions and transform lives
- Make God proud
Am I really asking for that much?