Today, I sang and danced and felt a happiness I hadn’t felt in my own company for a long time. With all of my flaws and despite the ways I just can’t measure up, I laughed and was filled with warmth.

Not too long ago, I suddenly remembered how many times Cliff told me he loved me, how much force he used when I resisted, and then him leaving without a word. That type of pain leaves. Being abandoned by someone who didn’t know how to love in the first place… you understand how inevitable it is and how needed it was. If he stayed any longer, he would have broken me. I’m still the best version of me today. Isnt that wonderful? That he didn’t take away the most precious parts of me.

I did my hair, spoiled it with oils and wrapping it in silk. I wrote poetry and created things with my own two hands. What had I lost with him? Hugs and kisses. Empty promises. His cute face. These are things that I don’t want or need. My next lover won’t need to know his name to know who I am.

I am happy. Life is ok.

d1

She walked home alone again
this time she’s drunk and she’s stumlstumbling
Spiraling
Drowning
Muddy
Messy
Thats right
a mess,
She has friends
Had friends
They forget her once she’s gone
And remembers when she reminds them
Tizzy full of fuzz
Tizzy full of it
She wants what you give her and that is a fact
She’ll beg for if you ask her
No punches, do draws
She walks alone
And her memory isnt perfect
Mom, dad, what were their names?
Annie, not Annie,
She hated the movie
Its been raining and it been snowing
She has an umbrella but she wont use it
Its cold and she’ll tell you she deserves it
Baby bitch
And they’ll agree
She’s walking alone

Im greatly underestimated. My love for everything, comes with conditions, even with people. Even with family. If your a shitty person, I cant and wont love you and refuse to fake it. What is family? What is blood? These titles and formalities mean nothing to me. To say “thats family no matter what” is not for me. I dont romanticize the word “family.” The people you are told to love out of blood relations, what kind of set up is that? I can’t follow that rule. If I don’t like you, being my sibling means nothing to me. I dont owe you love or loyalty. Done.

I still sleep near the window. The one he used to climb through to get to me. I had hoped by now that I’d break the habit of wanting to hear his gentle tapping against the frame, careful not to startle me from sleep. I had hoped for a lot. I wish I could figure out what happened. Where is my closure? Without meaning to I hope that door is still open, that I won’t need closure because he’ll walk through it, straight to me, into my arms. He’ll tell me he loves me, that I belong to him, that everything in him is mine. Mine.

I wonder why it is I keep expecting things to be different. Why did I have to steel myself and keep myself from crying. I hate that. Because a memory will return to me, the feelings I thought I finally got over return in the form of rain and snow, and then I choke. I feel so insignificant and used. I relapse. 

Why had I hoped to return to a life before this? WHy was I dreaming of it?

Because Im a fucking idiot. 

June 10th

“dont leave me,” I joked as we hugged goodbye.
 
I joked and I was serious. Part of me was ok with letting go, the other part really didn’t want to. In a perfectly perfect world, I’d get to see him more often. But he’s a libra, and he’s the wind, and he has to go. His own life has to continue, yeah? Mine too.
 
We met and talked as we walked. I told him all the things that crossed my mind. Some of those things didnt even make sense but thats ok. We can fill the spaces with as much silliness as we want. He jokes about too many things, the jiggle the girl’s butts, the faces of the people we pass, movie things, music things. We had coffee and he’s mortified by the amount of sugar I pour in. He’s laughing and Im laughing and its pretty much perfect. 
 
I can’t have days like this often, so maybe I appreciate it more. I want to be cool about it but he knows me too well for that. And, lets face it, he isnt cool either. He’s openly warm and dazzling, crooked tooth and all. 
 
“You dont belong in Brooklyn,” he says. “Its your year.” I’ll be 24 in July. “Its our time!” I say. “Its our time down here!” He responds. Goonies.
 
I believe him, at least a little. Sometimes Im not confident at all. Ive been getting better at understanding my own worth. Im less shy. 
 
We hugged twice. We said goodbye. Till next time…

If he hits you once…

how many women hear it in a lifetime?
“If he hits you once, he’ll hit you twice”
I can only vaguely remember hearing in a movie a long time ago
I think of this phrase when women stay in abusive relationships
Because I like to think they have enough power to leave
Because I like to think they know things won’t change

Abusive husbands, boyfriends, fathers
How do they start?
Are they charming? Are they sweet?

What about the women?
The ones who tear through a man’s heart and body
With their claws, and growls, and demeaning words
“If she hits you once, she’ll hit you twice”
Boys never hear it, men become victims too

Today, I heard her screaming from the basement
Over some thing, some drama maybe
I heard her screaming, I heard him yelling
From the kitchen upstairs, 
I wondered how many times she cried
and yelled “I’m never coming back!”
I stopped counting after one

She would try to fix her hair
She would mumble that she did nothing wrong

I remain impassive.
I think, she wont stop going back to him until he kills her
Maybe he will, maybe he won’t
But she’ll return anyway

I dont know if she’s smart, or funny
I dont know what makes her smile
I dont know if she has family
I know the look in her eyes when they’re flooded and wet
I know how small she is
I know it must be hard to escape his grip

I watched her leave again today