#leighoriginal

It’s rare to find someone who understands me. Someone who realizes all my faults and insecurities, but loves me still. It’s rare because everyone always leave me. I’m left alone with my heart in my hand, looking at it and wondering why nobody wants to hold it. I beat for them. I love them with all my being and prove it the best I can; yet, everybody hands it back to me at some point. I feel deeply alone in my room with my heart clutched to my chest. I feel deeply alone when I’m proved right. You were the last person I thought to prove me right. My heart beat for you. Except, here I am, sitting with my heart in my hand. I’m looking, wondering why you gave it back? I need to start beating for myself.

My heart still aches. It’s a dull ache now, yet, with every breath I can feel the cracks. They grind and chip as I’m trying to mend myself. I no longer cry every night, but I think I can still smell your cologne on my t-shirt. I went though so much with you in such a short time, but with each breath I feel myself piecing back together. Although, I still have anger and sadness I am mostly proud. I am proud of myself for telling you how I feel, I am proud of myself for standing up for myself, I am proud of myself for not being scared. I am proud of myself for always getting back to my feet and trying again. I never close my heart off but keep it open, ready for the next opportunity. I am proud of myself. I close my eyes, take in a slow, deep breath and exhale. I am a hopeless romantic and I am proud that I walk around with an optimistic wonder for love.

I am so tired of men thinking women are gods gift to them. An object to be cast aside and ridiculed solely because they are a woman. The fact that when a women says no to sex they are answered with “do you know who I am?” And “ you missed your shot”. No honey, I dodged a bullet with you. I am not the one that is fake because I decided that sex with you wouldn’t be healthy. You are the fake one. You are the one who made me think you could be a good guy but in fact you fall into a stereotype all of your own. I am sorry for you. I am sorry that you grew up believing a person is there to only please you. I am sorry that you don’t understand how you don’t have a right to my body. I am NOT sorry that I popped this bubble for you. I am NOT sorry that I put my own wishes and self-love over pleasing you with what’s between my legs. I hope you grow.

When did I leave my childhood in the past? When did the phrase “when I was younger” start slipping into my daily conversation? When did I start casually bringing up tax returns and due dates on bills? When did I stop dreaming of a man on a white horse coming to safe me?

When I realized that I am both the horse and the man. When I understood that I could save myself and take myself wherever I wanted to go. I started making conversation about paychecks and college tuition when I learned that I am myself. Everything I have is because of me but because of my mom. She turned me into the individual who could make a call myself. She turned me into the person who stands up and says what she thinks. She turned me into the women who isn’t afraid to list all the attributes I want in a partner without the guilty feeling that comes with “nit picking”.

I started talking and walking like an adult when I realized that I was raised to be this. This women, who knows her mind, knows what she wants, knows how she wants to get there, and knows that every now and again I am going to forget that. I started to view myself as a women when I grasped the fact that I will always get back to who I am after a temporarily breakdown; a wonder around before I fully grasp who I am again.

I became me when I realized that this is who I have always been. I have just switched out my toys for a pay stub and bank account. My spirit is still the same. Once you realize that a person is always themselves with slight adjustments you become comfortable in your own presence, you become your own best friend.

A good relationship with yourself is really the only thing to strive for in life and is something I have to still work on, but she showed me that I’m worth it. She showed me that I am exactly who I want to be, I just have to open my eyes and see it for myself, for she has always seen me the way I wish I could see myself.

So much hurt has come from the “relationship” we had. There are times when my sadness for what could have been is so suffocating that I cannot breathe through my tears. I tell myself that there is no reason to cry over you. We weren’t anything, absolutely nothing, but I still find myself missing the sound of your voice. I miss the way you smell;sweet and spicy with hints of sandalwood. I miss hearing your laugh, it’s a two in one beauty that most people don’t have. So much pain has come from our causal encounter that blossomed into what I hoped would at the very least be friendship. Yet, I am left here...hurting everywhere I go. I smile but it pains me to know that you didn’t even care enough to try a little harder. However, I do not regret you, our conversations, our affections, our songs because they all lead me to who I am now. I have realized through our encounter that I love to write, it’s okay to cry, and I will always love fiercely. I will use this blog as just that. I want to cry when it hurts and laugh when it’s funny and love when my heart feels it. I no longer want to hold myself back due to fear. This blog might be all over the place and will sometimes make no sense but that’s human emotion for you.