Skip to main content

808's and vibrators.

It's not so much that I'm heartbroken. Let's end that dramatic phrase right now. "oh God my heart has broken. Poor me." No sweetness. My heart started cracking in like '99...when my boyfriend got us evicted and I had to live in a motel. And eat from the hot dog cart outside everyday. And pretend my life was normal. And go to work like I didnt just shower in front of 3 weird Russian immigrants who were staying on the same floor as us.
My heart continued to crack in the following years. Through domestic abuse. An abortion. (funny story actually. i got kicked out the abortion clinic after the "procedure" was over, because my boyfriend at the time decided that he would pee in the garbage can in the waiting room because they wouldn't let him use the bathroom. Yes. These were the type of men I surrounded myself with.)
Breaking breaking, through the years of living in Brooklyn. Getting involved with "producers","rappers", "hustlers". All of them, really just wanting to have sex with me. And me being 20 and stupid and falling in love each time.
I can't even tell you how many times I woke up and made breakfast and picked up an Oprah magazine, in a girls name. The wifes name. See wives get Oprah magazine subscriptions. And trips to Europe and such. And jump offs get to keep their beds warm while they're gown.
I've learned that.
My heart really broke after my engagement ended. Yes I was engaged. And pregnant. And had a house. And a dog. (RIP Teddy). And I was all set for the rest of my life. Until he of course, cheated with a stripper.
And then I became a single mother trying to date.
And I fell in love. My heart was still slightly in tact. And then the "Devil with no soul" years just sucked the life out of me.
It's amazing how another person can have so much power over your life. This one man, just made me feel like I was no one. I still fight daily to try and reverse the damage he did to my self-esteem and heart.
But I made it through. And in the years after i've done some pretty regrettable things...most of them while i was drunk.
The rumors that spread are classic. None of it really affected me.
So tonight. As yet another relationship failed. And I take a sip of my Bacardi. It's not so much heartbreak I'm feeling.
It's more like. "Really??? Again?"
Like...I dont believe I can have sex with anyone else ever again. How do you keep giving your body and your heart and your love to people, and never getting anything back?
How can you keep doing that.
At some point you have to realize that you may be too damaged for love. For some reason,and i have no idea why, I may be unlovable.

Oh sure people love me. 'you're so funny!! Your shoes are so cute!! Omg you're so pretty!!" That's all false.
There's not one person on this Earth (besides my brother perhaps) that would actually stand beside me proudly. And just announce to the world that this person is amazing. This person i love with all my heart, and i will do all i can to make sure that this person gets through this life feeling loved and safe.

Not one.

As I've said I have a daughter. And as I look in the mirror tonight, the one thing I want her to know in life, is that its short. It's so ridiculously short.
And to follow her heart. And that she will get hurt. And she will feel like giving up. And she will be embarrassed. She will be disappointed. But never give up. Like I did.

Once you give up on yourself it's all over.

So I have my Bacardi. And some chips. And my vibrator. And I will get through this life.
Because I have to.


Comments

  1. So..don't know what to say after that one..at least ur story has changed for the better right?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Preach. That's all I can say....this is so painfully honest

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

::Fathers, Harems and Brown Eyes::

Ahh Fathers Day. A day to honor the wonderful men in our lives. The ones who have passed on their great legacies unto us. Given us their last names. Provided us with a roof over our head and food on the table. The ones who have sent us to therapy for our "daddy" issues. sidenote: Hello unavailable, emotionally distant, workaholic men. Please thank my Dad for making me fall for you. lol My dad was very typical. Cold. Distant. Left all the "child raising" shit to my mother. So I find it strange that he's actually had a bigger influence on who I am than she has. I find myself physically and mentally more and more like him every day that I get older. I guess when you spend your whole life trying to chase after someone's love, you get to know then on a unique level. I remember me going through his bookshelf. Reading every single book he had. Going through and stealing all his old records. Reading his old newspaper articles from the Korean War. Looking through his...

::The Reluctant Housewife::

Im writing todays post from the little refugee camp I've built for myself on my boyfriends bed. Using a shitty lap top, while my brand new computer sits at home untouched. Staring at pictures of his family and his clothes and his life, as my living room goes unlived in. Untouched. My life, seemingly frozen in time. Drinking Miller Lite, and eating a Veggie Burger. To watch my weight of course, which is escalating at dangerous levels. Like an obese woman ordering a Big Mac with a Diet Coke. I play these little mind games with myself. I used to get so much confidence from my work. Negotiating deals. Traveling. Meetings. Even when I had a bad day, and I would bitch, and go home and drink wine and lay on my couch, I still felt proud. Now I just lay on the couch and drink wine. The pride I get now comes from cooking a good dinner. Having good sex. Keeping a clean house. Spending hours and hours, doing my hair, make-up, buying new clothes. Just so I can trick myself into believing I'...