So long. Farewell. My life’s moving forward, my ship has sailed. And I’m so glad it’s over & my heart is well. After all that I’ve been through, I found myself. –Ciara “I Found Myself”

     I’m done with a lot of shit. I’m really just done… giving a fuck. I’ve retired from focusing on other people’s emotions. People hold you hostage, yo. They want you to be who they want you to be when they want you to be it. To be where they want you to be when they want you to be there. And get there in the manner they deem most fit. 
    Who the fuck do people think they are? And this is to no one in general. And this is for no reason in particular expect that I feel like in every decision I make, I’m considering who’s feelings will be hurt and what someone else will think. It’s stressful… and really you shouldn’t put that much stress on people. When I was younger, I used to wait all year for the holidays because there was a chance I’d see my cousins: a group of wild guys with hearts bigger than they care to show. But for the past couple of year, as people grew up, started families, moved away and passed away, things began to differ. We never see the effect people have on us until you miss it. You never truly understand what it is that brings you together with people. Just imagine when that link is gone.  On July 4th, I remembered that I miss my brother. And… umm… form here on out I’ll probably only write about things like this because if I video blog, it, you’ll all get to see me a hot mess. I might end up breaking down and crying uncontrollably like I did on the 3 train. 
       My brother passed away 4 years, 10 months and 22 days ago. His birthday is in 18 days. I have the dates tattoo’d on myself, but it’s not like I’d ever forget. His is the only birthday I ever actually knew.  I don’t even know where to go from here. I’m sitting at my work computer and trying to hide the tears but I mean… maybe I need a bathroom break. The problem with talking about this is that I don’t want pity. There’s no reason to pity me. Having and losing my brother were the two best things to happen to me.  Please give me a moment to explain: Anyone who knew my brother –and really knew him — loved him. He was a short man with a hot temper, quick wit and an infectious smile. He was vibrant. He was headstrong and dependable. He was fun and wild. He took risks.  He gambled heavily and won often. He had many secrets but never made you feel like he was holding anything from you. If you met him, you’d have wanted him to be your best friend. Some of us were lucky enough. 
     I fuckin hate boys. There was once a time when my brother hated them for me.  So know as I fumble between thoughts of loves lost, prince charmings and men I think I might’ve found new love in– I ummm… don’t give a fuck. I try and try to give men as little importance as possible but end up focusing on how not to focus on them. I’m fucking myself up, really. So everytime I sit and try to write a post to you guys, I strap myself into this fucking rollercoaster and change my mind from one paragraph to the next.  The truth of the matter is that my brother raised me right. I’m not saying that everything I’ve ever done has been perfect, but I think he would understand the moves I make and not call them mistakes. I’ve made decisions. And each decision I make –right or wrong in the eyes of a passerby –has been correct for me. It’s what made me happy in that moment. Would you trade one moment of complete bliss for an eternity in hell? I would. 
         I was around 72nd St. the other day and sat on a bench next to some Colombian evangelists. I know they were Colombian because I was partially raised by one and the accent is unmistakable and I know they were Evangelists because, unfortunately, I’ve sat through the bullshit one too many times. The dude was going on and one about how the people behind Harry Potter films are damning children’s souls to Satan. Really dude? A movie, though? Whatever…  You just can’t let people take your happiness out of fear of what is going to come next. It’s like… sex on the first date. They say you shouldn’t do it, but what if it’s amazing? What if you don’t regret it? And if it was as amazing as you’d hoped it would be, wouldn’t you enjoy it? And even if he never speaks to you again… well..You know what? I still effed you. lol.. This isn’t written to make all you little girls go out there and act a mess, its simply to say that if you make wrong decisions, you better make them correctly. Make them be worth it. I mean, I’m gonna watch Harry Potter even if it does mean I’m going to hell… because what if hell doesn’t exist? Then, all I did was miss out on the art and hard work of a group of people who’s soul purpose was to entertain me by showing me a skill they’ve mastered. Same thing with these boys. 
         I’ve put the shield back in front of my heart. There are no walls — I don’t believe in those anymore. I’m willing to experience. I want to experience You. See what you’re about. See where your head is at. But only at the moments when it fulfills me. I have lots of friends and family members who ask to see more of me. & I’m sorry but I just can’t do it. This is my timing. This is who I am. Just because I live closer/farther, that doesn’t change how much I speak to a person. I write on Brit’s wall about as often as I was stop by her dorm room when I was at Loyola — I just can’t see her and the other Brits’ pretty faces. I have phone conversations with Ashley at about the same rate I’d sit at the kitchen table  with her and go over… life —we just can’t do it over a custom-made whatever-the-fuck-is-in-the-fridge dinner or… a hot glue gun party. Carl and I text as often as we always did -no real change there. Crystal and Sabrina. Those are my homies. We’ve all disappeared for a while at a time. They know what it is so I never worry about them. 
     It’s hard with my family. Honestly, growing up, I only really saw them at holidays. Not for any reason in particular, that’s just the time for family.  So when it comes to hanging out regularly, like friends, it gets tough. My cousins all hang together. They’re each other’s best friends. And that’s beautiful because they grew up together and got to have that. But I had friends  friends –like Crystal & Sabrina. I mean… those girls are my family and there is no discussion on it. And sometimes, that gets tough. Because I’m forced to attempt to differentiate, but there is no difference. The same stories my cousins have with each other, I have with my friends. So, they come higher on my level of importance than some people might deem correct. But then, I have to place everyone against my real family: My mother, my sister and my brother-in law. Sometimes, we do things just us. Like, Christmas. While everyone was so concerned about who they had to visit and where to go, we just went home. We did nothing. And it was perfect. 
        You have to understand that people aren’t all like you. We do different things. We enjoy different surroundings. And just because you’re used to a certain way of life, a certain type of celebration, particular preferences and expectations, that is not the life of someone else. You’ve got to leave people alone. I don’t visit. I don’t call. I don’t text. I don’t mail. I don’t Skype. I don’t post. I don’t reach out,so you think I must not like you. Something must be wrong. The truth of it is, nothing is wrong. & you don’t concern me. & I do want to spend time with certain people… I really do –but I don’t have the time for it. I’m busy rollerblading in Central Park.  
     You also have to understand that you aren’t the most important person in anyone’s life except your immediate family. I’m not saying this to be cold, rather to be honest. It’s not that people don’t love you (I probably love you), but the most important person in anyone’s life should be themselves. It sounds selfish but… hey. I’ve been trapped in the mood lately and am unsure of if I want to break out of it. Simply because I know that I’ll make the right decisions in the end. There are places I go, where I don’t want to be but I make it work for me. The day I went to Ashley’s graduation, my mind was… everywhere and no where. But my heart told me I had to. And I had to. So when I was there, I focused my energy into the kitchen. I was a little rude (I admit) and didn’t sit at the table with the rest of the “recent grads” having conversation I really don’t give a fuck about anymore… but I didn’t want to have that conversation.  I knew what it was gonna be. I had nothing to contribute. That conversation wasn’t making me happy. So… my energy was assigned to making sure Gary and Grandma had water and stayed cool. (Grandma actually stole my water when I came in but hey… she was silently running things, yo.) 
         I don’t know what it is. I might just not like people. I don’t like to have an obligation with anyone. No one should make we do anything. Anyone who’s met me know’s it’s hard for me to play second to anyone or anything. I want to be the boss. I want to call the shots. I want to do what the fuckI want to do. And most times, I just want to be by myself.  I was talking to Carl the other day and he was telling me about how he has all these people staying with I’m one after another and I just wanted to ask him: When’s the last time you had time to yourself. (& he’s a wise person so he brought it up on his own.) You have to be able to be alone. To enjoy your own company. Iw as supposed to go to Jones Beach with my cousins on the 4th –and I was truly looking forward to it –but I fell in love with myself. And more… 
I finally celebrated my independence. I’ve finally found my freedom –as an individual. 
More on that in my next post… 
❤ cinderELLA