I Can’t Change

Even if I tried. Even if i wanted to. I think often about how I’ve managed to get to this very moment in life and time. I think about the decisions I’ve made, the people I’ve played, the lies I’ve told, and all of the truth’s that made me. Some truth’s I’ve never told. Maybe there are some tales I’ll never tell. But whether or not anyone ever gets to know every detail of what’s shaped me, I still can’t change. I still won’t. I’ll always feel destined to live what has been one of the most complicated lives I could imagine. And I’ll still be great! I’m truly on the verge of realizing my destiny. You know, that ONE thing that will be your legacy. That ultimate moment in time when I’m really more than I thought I could be. So I’ve been thinking and praying and planning and traveling and trying to learn everything that I need to learn to prepare me for that moment. And I’m terrified. More terrified of time not existing as long as I need it to. Terrified that I’ll choose the wrong door and only be half as fulfilled. Afraid to love the wrong person, the wrong career, the wrong city. But not terrified enough to not try. Not too terrified to pick up and leave. Not afraid to face whatever comes or whomever faces me.



I’m not one of those people who airs their dirty laundry, well not usually or regularly, but only occasionally I offer pieces of me to this blog. Tonight, I just feel like I’ll never find a love of my own. Or maybe I’ll just never realize it’s existence. And tomorrow I’ll be fine. I won’t even think about what I just saw tonight. I’ll probably just force myself, like I do often to dismiss those who dismiss me. I’ve broken hearts before, far more than I thought I could or would. But I always told them the truth. I always gave them an out. I always told them it would never happen. We would never happen. But when I got lonely they answered the phone. When I got bored they joined me for dinner or a movie. When I was sick, they made me soup. Selfishly I took from them all of the things I needed, and didn’t offer them back. Rather, I couldn’t offer them back. But they knew. They knew. So now I’m looking up at the sky wondering why am I so impossible. The ones I want won’t love me back and the ones that want me, I just can’t. This life…

I’ll Never Not Hate You Again

I’ll never not hate you again. Because I loved you. Maybe not first, but as soon as I could. But when I loved you, you hated me. You hated what you thought I’d become. You hated the thought that I’d become more than you. Now I hate you too. Because you broke me. You broke me in half. You broke me in two. You broke me in, too. Into this world of hate, lies, love, and condemnation. Now you can’t condemn me without condemning you. And you can’t even look at me without hating you. I can look at me now and see what I’m becoming. Still broken in two by all the hatred you infused. Half boy half man, and both hate you. The difference is, now I can do what you never could. I can become even more than what you thought I would. A real man with a voice not dumbing down to bums. And I can even hate you without fear of bad conscience. Cause my conscience is clear and yours is cloudy after all you have done. Knowing it was you where all of this hatred came from. I’ll never forget you or the way you taught me to become a “man”. And if the only way to win is forgive you and forget your sins, I’ll find solace in this and the fine point of my pen. Because you broke me I’m free. And free to never not hate you again.

Come Undone

In a week or two I’ll have to delete your number. In a month or two, your email. In a year or two most traces of you will be gone. But now you’re the new “compared to” no one else could don. It took five years to get here. We knew the time would come. Five years of love, hate, and a friendship come undone.

There’s nothing left to say anymore. We’ve said all we could. There’s nothing left to pay anymore. We’ve paid all we should. I broke your heart! I’m sorry! But I told you I would. You were in love and I wasn’t. I’m sorry I held you hostage, still in search of love. I know that was selfish. And with you I fell in love platonically, because for me there was no magic.

The friendship is over now too. We finally saw all of the signs. No more traces. No more spaces. No more twisted lines. I’m sorry you weren’t enough for me and I wasn’t enough for you either. I always thought love would be just enough. I used to think that if I tried harder, you could have been the one. Instead it was five years of love, hate, and a friendship come undone.


These days there are few things that bring tears to my eyes. I think it’s safe to bet that most people who think they know me don’t really know how sensitive I am. I’m sure many are thinking at the moment they’re reading this that I’m full of shit and couldn’t possibly be as sensitive as I claim. Well, that’s just simply not true. I feel, I hurt, I cry, I’m human.

So, I’m sitting on my flight to Las Vegas and a family of four Asians decides to occupy two of the seats in front of mine and two seats in my row. My best friend is sitting in front of me in the window seat and I’m in the window seat on my row. The children, a young boy and girl who looked to be about 2 years apart in age and around 8 and 10 respectively were seated next to my friend and the adults sat next to me. Shortly after takeoff the young girl whipped out an iPad much to the dismay of my best friend, as this little girl was not using headphones while she played a movie in Chinese.

For half an hour the boy and girl remained in their seats until the boy fell asleep. After another short while the father moved to the seat in front of me and the boy moved to the seat his father occupied. The mother then picked the boy up, placed him into her arms, and began to caress his head while he slept. I couldn’t help but watch them as this endearing moment played out. As I watched the mother gaze into the face of the boy and then kiss his forehead the tears began to stream down my face. The thought of having my own mother place me in her lap while I slept, as she caressed my head became more than I could bear in that moment.

I miss her so much and even after almost 23 years, I still can’t stop thinking about her. I still can’t stop dreaming about my parents and wondering what my life would be and what theirs would be had they not passed away in 1989. It stupefies me sometimes how a single moment in someone else’s life can dredge up so many memories from my own childhood. It’s difficult to fathom having so many emotions poured into the short time I was able to share with my parents here on earth. I still can’t believe they’re gone some days. It’s still so surreal. And as I approach the ages they were when they passed away, I can’t help but feel weird and unnerved with the idea of having to figure out what I want for my future and the rest of my life.

Each day I struggle with the thought of making a decision or several decisions that will shape the rest of my life. I know I want a love of my own and a family too, but then I think, “Where does my career fit in”. I think about the things for which I’m passionate, and I think about the reality of having to start a career when 30 is just around the corner me. Where will I live? What will I do while I jumpstart this new endeavor? How will I survive? While I’m still uncertain as to the answers for those questions, what I do know is that I’ve spent my entire adult life doing what I had to do to survive, and though I’m grateful, I’m ready to do what I want to do now. I’m ready to do what fulfills me, and I pray that the same strength that’s carried me through a troubled childhood and a tumultuous adulthood will carry me to true happiness. Another page in the book of my life is about to turn. I just have to get ready.

Making Better Choices

This evening I received an interesting text from a long ago ex. I mean like, more than 10 years ago ex. It was after a brief series of text messages about what area each of us work, here in the District. I told him where I was, he told me where he was, and I said “oh aight cool”. Approximately 30 minutes later he sent me another text expressing his interest in being cool and how I seem to be holding on to our sordid past and apparently have been angry, mean, and rude to him. He also stated how he’s been made to feel (by me) that I think I’m better than him.

Now, let me say this: He opened up a can of worms tonight so expect for me to digress all up and through this post.

My first thought was to lambast his ass, but I quickly decided against it because I really have no time to go back and forth with someone who will clearly never understand our plight. Long ago we both created a tumultuous situation that ended almost as quickly as it began. There were very strong emotions shared, but after all, we were teenagers; Adult teenagers, but teenagers nonetheless. He did some things, and so did I. I am no longer pointing any fingers most of all because I really don’t care. I don’t care about what we were then, and I don’t care about what we are now. I am not however, the one holding on to the past. He is! He never grew up. The same displays of immaturity he exuded 11 years ago, he still displays today. I am certainly better than I was at 18. He is gone because our time had come and gone. I find no purpose in even conversing with him but have remained somewhat accessible to avoid being rude, but no more.

I’m so exhausted with people’s desire to push their insecurities off on me. When most people look at me, they see a confident, intelligent, well spoken, ambitious, responsible man. When I look at me, I see someone recovering. I’m recovering from an explosive childhood. I’m also recovering from a series of poor decisions made as a young adult running the gamut from money, to relationships, to education, and the list goes on. While I’m far wiser now, I’m still recovering. However, few people have seen me sweat. Few people have seen my tears, and ever fewer know the things that I fear the most, because there aren’t ANY people who have seen me succumb to fear. You can be afraid and still persevere, and that’s all I’ve ever done. I’m afraid of rejection, but I keep pursuing. I’m afraid of heights, but I keep climbing. I’m afraid to have my heart-broken (again), but I understand that that is the risk we all take in the pursuit of love. I have been beaten, broken, defiled, and some more shit, but I aint no punk. I heal, and I press on. And if people think that I’m better than them because I can take a punch, or a beating and manage to repeatedly recover, then I guess I am better than them. What makes me strong is that I believe in endurance. I’ve never been the fastest, or the tallest, or the strongest, or even the smartest, but I’m still here! “Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!” (“If We Must Die”. Claude McKay, 1919.)

These days I still struggle to make better choices. I still struggle to stand firm in matters of the heart. I still struggle to stay focussed on one thing at a time. I’m still flawed! But I know better than to let this life get the best of me. I am far too intelligent, and far too perseverant to ever give up on me.


I thought about you today. My mind just couldn’t break away.

I dreamed of you last night. Didn’t think I’d awake to so much insight.

I felt your touch. Damn! I miss you so much.

I wish you so much!

The thrill of you just won’t leave. Too bad we just can’t be.

Too bad he just won’t see. Too bad he won’t set me free.

I missed you today. My heart just couldn’t take the pain.

I saw you last night. Didn’t know he did too. He made me cry.

I looked into your eyes. Damn! You kissed my thighs.

I’m still high!

The feel of you won’t leave. Too bad we just be can’t be.

Too bad he just won’t see. Too bad he won’t set me free.

You saw me today. Lying there cold and dead, I still took your breath away.

He scared me last night. He told me he didn’t even want to fight.

I felt the steel. Damn! He came ready to kill.

I just stood still!

The life in me is gone. Too bad his life will go on.

Too bad I never loved him. Too bad he finally set me free.

*Okay okay… This one isn’t about me at all. Just me being more explorative in my writing.

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