In God we trust

I wonder if we love the same music... because I can and will listen to everything at least once and if I can't get passed the first 30 seconds then I will vow to dislike whatever song it is.

I wonder if you love basketball and art simultaneously. if you don't, can you respect them just the same.

I wonder if you love your career... if you don't, have you grown to enjoy it...Do you have a side quest... Passion project...

I wonder if you believe in something bigger.

I wonder if you pray.

I wonder if you stare at the ceiling when you lay, and think of ways we will become more than one but two bodies that eventually:

learn to love...

each other.

learn to hold, grasp, not judge

each other

I wonder how long you've stayed

in places you felt the need to walk away

from

I wonder if you read, write, enjoy typography

I wonder about the things that fascinate you

I wonder if I will fascinate you

I wonder

about you

I often wonder what my life would be like if I never gave up on basketball. I think maybe I'd be a) more in shape b) have a better level of discipline c) I'd probably have a sisterhood of basketball fanatics via group chat and iMessege. A dream you give up on is just that right? A dream. A moment in time or a few years that kept me afloat among a childhood of a young girl trying to find herself.

I was always tall, being tall made me feel insecure. Seen. Overly self conscious. I remember my first basketball. I remember playing across the street from my two bedroom apartment in Williamsburg. I remember thinking having this dream in the 6th grade meant more to me than mixtapes on lime wire and 106 and park.

My JHS was geared for sports/math/science. I sucked at math, hated science. Found hope in a sport that didn't choose me back.

Basketball was a love that felt unrequited. Being tall meant bumping into coaches and being asked to try out. Not making the team at 11 years old meant: hey you can try again next year or show up to the games and watch all your best friends play. I didn't care if it meant I got to play basketball with those same girls for hours every day.

Yes I played every single day. For hours.

I'd go home and watch basketball themed shows: one tree hill was my life through junior high school and high school.

I remember giving up on basketball. thinking it wasn't achievable because of the constant 'Charlie horses' and muscle strains that woke me up out of my sleep.

My older sister picked me up from school one day... I was 12. She asked me 'What do you want to be when you grow up'... We were always close.

I told her 'I want to be in the WNBA.' She said I could be whatever I wanted to be and something about me always having a babyface, I would always look young.

I gave up on the dream a few years later.

Sometimes I look back and wonder what would have happened if 13/14 year old me decided to return to the sport.

I couldn't.

I went to a high school that didn't have a girls basketball team. I accepted that moment as a sign and never looked back until adulthood.

Adulthood is when I started seeing Liberty basketball games in person.

Adulthood is when I started saying to myself: well I mean, I remember back then thinking I was too tall. Now I think I'm too short.

It is funny in hindsight. I always downplay the dream because what do we really know from the ages of 11-14...

I guess we know everything and nothing all at once.

My everything was a sport that felt unreachable. Accepting a different path seemed easier to a kid who was willing to restart and relaunch a dream. Looking back sometimes I think the bond with other women meant more than a dribble and a hoop.

I think it's ridiculous that female basketball players make less than 6 figures and are possibly struggling compared to their competitors in the NBA.

Anyway, I found a voice and a purpose somewhere more fitting years later. An internal nudge that I ignored because it felt too close to home and too similar to others in my family: music.

Still, there are moments where I question myself.

5:28am:

It's been a weird couple of months. I'll start by saying I've gotten familiar and accustomed with being a loner that is also living solo. I used to write about being lonely constantly but I have accepted that the right person will come along. I've been dating, using the apps is always bittersweet.

Feeling better has been my priority because I've been feeling sick for a bit. I've been focusing on my mental and physical health because its flu season. That back to school shit is a bit quiet, finished a program but not sure if its for me. Certified but didn't take my state exam. It's something I've been wondering about.

Should I be a pharmacy tech? Kinda realizing that the field reminds me of my step mom... Maybe I should change direction.

Living alone the past few years has been a bit tough, been doing my best but it does get hard sometimes. I'm still hosting events, seeing my friends, family feels distant but things do take time. I've learned that not all things are in my control so just been figuring it out.

Me & Rocky are just friends. Accepted that he's not the one and that's okay.

Went on a few dates and met a guy named ... We'll call him Hooper.

He was like my dream guy but unfortunately that came to an end. Brown skin 5'11... He seemed a bit obsessive and I like my privacy so there were a few disagreements. I'm also still sorting things out living independently. I don't really like being controlled but i think he wants someone super submissive which I can be but we barely know each other. Anyway, he was really cute... and we almost had sex but it didn't happen. An awkward moment for sure. I think we weren't a good fit and that was a clear sign.

He made me anxious looking back. He didn't make me feel safe. He didn't make me feel seen. He felt judgmental. He felt like the opposite of what I needed. But he was cute. The cute guy with a good job isn't enough.

More fish in the sea or more fish on land. Who really knows.