Day 15.....Halfway Where?

I hate moving.

There is no other way I can look at it.

It just sucks.

I try to think of all the good and positive aspects of leaving this place.
But those thoughts melt into the sweat pouring off of me as I lug my stuff down three flights of steps.

I hate moving.

I’m half out of my old life and half in my new life.

One foot in the past.
One foot in the future.

I’ve lived in this apartment for a year now and I look back on the year and wonder where the hell it went.

I know that it was part of my process as well as part of the healing process.

This was the first time in 12 years that I lived on my own.
No jumping from place to place with each new boyfriend.

It was the first time I actually stopped long enough at my life to see that the way I had lived in the past was no a way I wanted to live again.

I always NEEDED someone or shall I put it more bluntly to say I always had to have a man around to let me know what I was worth.

Reviewing my choices of men in the past it’s very obvious that I had not thought that highly of myself.

I always though the next guy would be better.

More respectful.
More honest.
More loving.
More committed.

I couldn’t see at the time I chose the exact same guy each time.

The only thing that changed was the name.

I relinquished my self worth by shaping myself into what I thought they wanted me to be.

I thought this was how you got love.

On July 15th it will be exactly one year since I had sex.

One year since I stopped bartering my self-esteem on the affections of men.
One year since I took my power back to KNOW I was worth more then a one night stand.
One year since I stopped believing that I could extract a commitment by sleeping with them.

GEEEEZ…….. it’s been a year since I had sex.

I am in no way, shape or form a born again virgin.

Please don’t think that’s what I’m trying to convey here.
I’m just talking about how I healed from the mis-information I held about what love was.

For so long I really thought if I could just find that other half of me I would be okay.

That I wouldn’t feel so worthless.
That I wouldn’t feel so lonely.
That I wouldn’t feel so empty.

But with every new guy and every failed expectation of him being “The One.”.

I settled for less and less.
I felt less and less.
I lost hope.

Karl was the guy I last slept with; my ex-boyfriend of six years.

He was the first man that showed me how to smoke crack.
I was the first woman to stick a needle in his arm.

Talk about LOVE.

In the past how I got over a relationship was by jumping into the next one.
It never worked out to well.

Ending a relationship is sometimes harder then death.

You know that they are still alive.

Somewhere.
Doing something.
With God knows whom.

It leaves a hole in your gut that only time can heal.

It took a long time.

There were so many
Days.
Nights.
Moments.

I just wanted to return his calls and tell him that I was okay with being a booty call.
That I was okay with him treating me like a cheap hooker……

As long as he told me he loved me.

But like so many other points in my life something inside told me I was worth more

That I deserved more.
That there was more.

But only if I allowed myself to let go of what I believed in order to make room for the truth.

I wasn’t to be bartered.
I wasn’t to be used.
I wasn’t willing to settle for scraps anymore.

It’s funny how when you let go……..
What you let go of decides to hold on.

I dealt with the phone calls.
I dealt with the false promises.
I dealt with the “But you’re my best friend.”
I dealt with the “I miss you.”
I dealt with the “I need you.”

Then I got tired of it all.

I didn’t want to play the stupid game anymore and the game stops when you stop playing.

I didn’t believe him.
I didn’t consider him a friend.
I didn’t miss him.

And I certainly didn’t NEED him.

So I discovered how to get rid of him all together….

I borrowed a large sum of money and swore I would repay him.

BUT instead I....

Didn't fufill the empty promise I made to him.
Didn’t call him the next day.
Didn’t answer his calls.

I really didn't care.....

I just sent him a text message and told him…

“Now YOU know what it’s liked to get f*cked”

I know not the most spiritual thing……

But damm it makes me smile.


Until Tomorrow,
Mighty Morgan