I still remember what you were wearing when I met you. One of your many UNT shirts, your pants that you always have rolled into capris, and of course, your trademark smile. You extended your hand to formally introduce yourself, but I felt like I already knew you (according to you we'd met once before). It's funny because I remember posting a Facebook status over a year ago saying that I can tell if I'm going to date a girl by looking at the shoes in her closet and the music on her iPod. As stupid as that is, I've always related everything in my life to music. Everything. And the people that I've been closest to in life are the people that have the same taste in music as I do. I remember looking at the music on your iPhone and seeing the Blueprint, Man on the Moon 2, and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, three of my favorite albums. I playfully asked you to marry me. That was hella corny. But to be completely honest, that was when I knew you were going to be my girlfriend.
After an amazing weekend together and an even more amazing few months that followed, I knew that I'd fallen for you. Of course I wasn't going to tell you that, I still had an image to uphold. The more I talked to you the more intrigued.. the more intoxicated I became. I became less concerned about this image that I had. I became less concerned with other women. It went against all my rules but I didn't care anymore. I cut all my loose ends with hopes of growing a strong, new relationship. This was a new type of excitement for me. I was drifting deeper.
Thursday was your birthday. I was just thinking about how I used to distance myself from women about a month before birthdays or any holiday that really required us to be a "couple". It's been a long time since I've had a girlfriend, let alone planned a birthday for a girl. I found myself doing all the things that I used to make fun of guys for doing. Making a birthday cake, ordering flowers, all of that. Making actual "reservations" not just walking into a restaurant. I couldn't believe this was me now. I was there. I was at the last stage.
I remember when things changed. I had a knot in my stomach from the moment I wokeup. It wasn't an upset stomach, more of the nauseous, throbbing feeling that happens periodically. I knew what that feeling meant, but I thought maybe I was trippin', so I ignored it. But it became more frequent, more intense. Until that morning, the kick finally came. I finally hit the ground. I wish I could say it didn't hurt. Just act like nothing ever happened. I mean, that's what I always do. But I can't lie anymore. You don't grow by lying.

It's funny that we never reach out to God until things aren't going right, and we don't know what to do.


  1. Fan/Frequent ReaderOctober 28, 2011 at 2:52 AM

    I know you're depressed n' shit, but on the other hand...this shit is your fucking "Blue Period", you're writing right now is some of the deepest, realest, honest, and naked shit you've ever written. Writing is an art, and you're like fuckin' Picasso or Pollock right now, gloomy and messy, but it works, I know it may seem weird but keep writing in this state. Picasso's "Blue Period" came from a time he was depressed/inspired by a close friend's death, ppl thought he was emo at the time, but eventually that became some of his most famous shit! So milk these emotions for all they're worth; blog as your canvas, words as your paint! *Prayers*

  2. I never thought of it that way but that's kinda dope. I mean, I would rather feel better but thanks for the inspiring words. Means a lot.