12.20.21. 7:29 am. Brockton, Ma.

How sad. Nights continue to pass and I lay awake. Dreading sleep because all I ever dream of is a life with her. A life I know will never come. All while I constantly find myself doing the same.

Writing about her, singing about her, thinking about her…

Drowning.

Holding on to her by a strand hoping she doesn’t notice that I linger. Waiting for her to realize my value…

Waiting for her to realize how deeply I loved her…

The perils of broken love.

A phrase that resonates with whom I’ve become. I’ve allowed my past to shape my future and it has even driven me to lengths where I’d embody such pain for the sake of her happiness.

It’s dangerous. It’s overwhelming.

Making decisions based solely on whom she portrayed herself to be. Bringing her the moon and stars because she deserves all that and more. Of course, that was just until I found a rift in her facade and realized that the time I spent loving a dream was just that… a false reality.

A joke.

One that revolved around my torment.

I was entirely at her disposal. My sanity, my being, and my heart. All resting in the cold hands of she whom could never truly fulfill my desire for authenticity.

Affection.

Passion.

Love.

I had blindly given her full reign over myself. Driving me to live deep within my own heart. For I craved such fairytales of her and I, while my reality became shrouded by earthly desires/resentment brought upon by her whim.

Lust.

Doubts.

A distraught innocence.

Day after day, my sole purpose became her.

Her happiness. Her pleasure.

It all became my own. The second our bodies met in coitus, her emotions and her soul flooded my body.

I was in and out of consciousness, drowning.

For I was a mere shell constantly being filled and drained by women who needed a puppet to manipulate. Women who needed a jester who would live and die by their feet with no questions asked; until he no longer served useful or they found another fool to do their bidding.

Was that all I was to her too? A fool? A tool meant solely for her pleasure?

Or perhaps she knew how deep my love was… Perhaps she assumed a dive so deep was not worth the risk…

She wouldn’t have been the first to feel that way…

I’ve grown used to such doubts. Giving away pieces of my heart to those whom show no interest in its growth. Giving my all to those whom selfishly hold on to their own; expecting me to be exactly like the hundreds of other men begging for a chance at their perfect bodies.

No matter what her truth was, no matter her reasoning as to why she pulled me along;

I remained faithful.

For my love is a deep love.

My love is unlike any other.

And she may have fooled me…

But she cannot fool me. For her heart is just as broken as my own. I could feel it. She craves security. She craves somebody to catch her as she falls from her own insecurities.

I wanted so badly to be the one who caught her.

I wanted so badly to be the one whom she reached out to whenever she felt as if she was drowning…

I wanted so badly to be the one who saved her from facing the terrors of her own darkness alone…

Because I could see her.

I could finally see the real her. Putting up a front. A front that was successful when I became drunk with her taste… When I craved her scent all over my body.

I was once blinded by her dulcet voice constantly reciting how much she ‘loved’ me. And it may have taken a while, but the mist I once lived in has slowly dissipated.

The pain of her indecisiveness has woken me up from a dream so beautiful. A dream where she actually wanted me to a reality where I was only ever that very tool.

And while she may have been attempting to protect herself while grasping for inner peace and personal satisfaction; she ended up breaking me even more in the process.

But I don’t hold anything against her. I just hope she one day realizes I was never a threat…

For my love is a deep love.

But it is one I would not have allowed her to drown in.

It is safe.

It is warm.

It is everything that she knew she needed…

I would’ve held her so tightly. I would have thrown myself in the direction of anything attempting to harm her. She never again would’ve had to worry about being hurt.

But alas, I am a fool. A jester for a queen who ruled with a fist so cold. Expecting me to give my all without receiving anything in return. Expecting me to live solely for her while she dreamed of another.

While she yearned for a love that had already broken her.

Perhaps, I truly am not the person destined to keep her safe within my arms.

Perhaps, I truly am not the person she needs to love her wholeheartedly.

But I will continue to hold on from a thread. Hoping she one day realizes that she could bathe in my love without any worries of drowning…

For my love is a deep love.

And I will keep her safe from the clutches of harm, itself, because my love belongs to her.

Only her.

– g.

Pillow Thoughts

12.22.21. 10:04 pm. Brockton, Ma.

Christmas is right around the corner and December is almost over. That means 2022 is quickly approaching and another year of disappointment lays ahead.

Okay, okay! Not just disappointment…

The past two years have been the best for me financially but they have also been the worst for me emotionally and mentally.

They have been plagued with death of loved ones, disappointment from personal decisions, and heartbreaks from friends/lovers. It’s crazy cause every time I sit down and really think about how my year went, I always end up facing the reality of my how fucked up my life has been since childhood.

Without getting into irrelevant detail, I’ll just go with I got some bad ass luck.

I mean, I do have some good stories of everything I’ve been through. A few funny, some exciting, but most always end with heartbreak.

But I’m happy.

Really!

I have my son. I have my daughter (fortunately). I haven’t even gotten covid-19 yet. And I have huge plans/investments for all of 2022. From written projects to individual/partnered business plans coming into fruition, this next year will be full of positivity and success. As always of course. That’s something thing I’ve always been good at; pulling money and venture ideas out of my ass and making them work for me.

But anyways.

These past couple of years may have been painful at first to let go but I’m 97% over my kid’s mother. Gladly. Finally. Thankfully. I was so angry all of 2020 and most of 2021. I was devastated. I was hurt. I wanted to die… Except I knew I couldn’t leave my son alone. I knew I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of having somebody love her so much that they killed themselves over losing her. Over her infidelities and betrayals.

Yeah, yeah. It’s never that serious says the hypocritical clown.

People who don’t believe in mental illness always end up saying some dumb shit like that. They constantly ridicule those who feel deeply, those who feel every stabbing pain ripping through their heart. And yeah we all go through shit, I get it, but how could anyone even assume to understand how another person feels?

Nobody could ever understand the pain one holds deep within their heart. Nobody could ever speak on it because everyone’s pain is their own. Everyone’s experiences are unique… I probably couldn’t walk in your shoes, and I highly doubt that you could endure the shit I’ve seen/done/been through.

But yeah, back on topic.

There used to be a point where my heart would race every time I saw my BM. It would sink from my chest to my tummy at the very thought of her. I couldn’t picture a life without her. No matter how badly she hurt me, I was willing to forgive it all if it meant keeping my family together. I didn’t want to be a baby daddy.

God, I was so blind and I’m embarrassed about it.

But that’s what happens when somebody tricks you into believing that they “love” you. See, I truly thought that we’d end up married. I truly believed that I would die with her by my side… Maybe have another kid or so, cute lil family. You know…

The American Dream.

But alas, that dream crumbled in front of my eyes… ‘So close yet so far.’ I’d think to myself. And outside influences flooded in the second she opened our doors. My flaws became far too overbearing for her. She went from “he is my all” to “why do I even put up with this baby bitch shit?” In a matter of 7 years.

It took us living together for her to realize how broken I truly am. My insecurities. My vices. Every little piece that made me, me. She no longer wanted me. Yeah, I was down pretty bad lol.

But thats all in the past.

And I let go of it.

Besides I had help getting over her by falling for another. Another who was far more beautiful, inside and out. A woman who makes my knees weak at the very sight of her… I wish I had met sooner… Way sooner, then perhaps my content would be different. Perhaps my life would be different.

Anyways, my story continues and as always I find myself deep in thought adding to a new chapter written with my own blood and tears mixed together; wondering and staring out my window with pauses in between each word…

Single and lonely.

Betrayed yet flourishing.

Contemplating my truth before the new year.

For obscurity is no longer a fear of mine and I will not allow my faults to tear down my walls any longer.

With that being said;

I can already feel how strong this year will be for me financially. Legally, it’ll probably be a huge headache but until then I plan on growing my nest egg. I want to be able to leave enough money for my kids (and partner if i find one) so that they won’t have to worry about an absentee father/partner. Of course, money ain’t shit compared to actually having a caring role model there for you physically. Or having a man their who’ll protect you, hold you and love you… but I only have to worry about the latter at the moment.

I haven’t met anyone who’s loyal and faithful enough to wait for me while I do my hypothetical stint. That kind of love is unrealistic unfortunately because there will always be another man. I was forced to accept that many times over these last 10 years.

But I made my choices, now I have to face the consequences. I just wish everyone understood that I did what I did out of love. I did what I did to protect those I love. And I would do it again if it meant they get to sleep comfortably in their own beds with no worries.

But anyways, 2022.

My wish has always been to be happy. To have a family. To be a father. I never cared about success and money and all that other meaningless shit but I understand how important it is to other people.

I get it.

Really, I do.

No body wants a bum who doesn’t work, doesn’t have money, who can’t buy them gifts, and can’t take them out. Love is no longer enough. It’s almost 2022 and having money is a fad that will not die out any time soon. So as always, I adapt.

The one thing I liked about my ex was that she wasn’t materialistic at first. I mean yeah I always had money but she didn’t care for money. She wanted me for me.

For my body.

For how I made her feel.

Even though her heart belonged to another…

Then again, we were both fresh out of relationships with people we would’ve wanted to marry, so I can’t be a hypocrite. It took me two years to get over my first love (as I mentioned several times before).

Hold up…

Now that I think about it, all of my serious relationships have been like that. Dating someone who loves someone else while I, myself, also love another. Then eventually I end up falling in love again and my partner stays stuck on their original interest, of course.

It almost feels as if I am meant to be a rebound.

As if I am meant to come second to another man.

(No homo)

Sometimes I wish I was the same man I was back before October 2021 came along. I actually made a lot of progress emotionally. I stopped caring about my BM, I was on the edge of love but had just gotten hurt so I didn’t let myself fall for empty words. I felt good knowing that I could care for someone without losing sleep.

Besides, I never trusted words that weren’t backed up by actions. I know that “I love you” doesn’t mean anything anymore. Yeah, I’ll play along for now but I’ve been through this before… I’ve been through it all. I know that eyes speak all truths and until I see you face to face, your words are just that.

Words.

God, I miss being my old self.

I miss not caring because I was finally recovering from my hurt.

And I miss not crying…

Okay I lied, I always cry. I’m a fucking lil baby bitch… but I accept that. I am in touch with my vulnerability. But I am still a man.

And I may have been heartbroken, but at least I was realistic. At least, I could look straight through such beautiful lies… Until we finally meet up, then I am just as naïve as I am hesitant.

One of my bigger flaws;

I always fall for kisses so sweet, so empty… In a matter of a month I went from being nonchalant and skeptic to a hopeless romantic all over again.

The way our bodies match as if they were made for each other; her warmth, her taste, her scent. The way her hips flow against mine. The intimacy.

When I really care for the woman, I tend to fall in love so quickly the second our bodies touch. Now that is my biggest flaw. I am such a skeptic until we finally see each other. Our true selves. Our naked selves.

And yes, there is so much more to love than just sex and physical connection but for me, if I already like who you are, that is what draws me over the line.

See, I love being in love.

Wholeheartedly. It’s the best high in the world! It’s painful, yes. But when you find someone worth the wait, worth the stress, and worth the tears, it’s a beautiful experience… Just when it’s not one sided, though.

It gets tiring being patient on someone who’ll never truly value you. I’ve lost so many hours of sleep. I’ve wasted so much time thinking and being depressed. I even lost all of my motivation and it almost cost me my job, my other relationships, and my sanity…

Yes, I love being in love…

But sometimes I hate it. Right now, I hate it. And honestly, I think I want to keep hating it.

I currently have a couple of beautiful women trying to get to know me. Constantly messaging me, sending me pictures, and trying to flirt with me… And it feels good to be wanted. I appreciate the fact that anyone would ever want to get to know me.

But they’re not her.

I don’t even want to get to know anybody else… I’m still healing and I have no patience for anyone new… Okay, well maybe not “new” per se, cause they’ve been trying to talk to me for months and I’ve ignored them; but new because I tend to get accustomed to one person and shut out everyone else… So… Yeah, fuck it. New.

I think we can all relate to this exact scenario;

Having options but not wanting to take them. Whether you’re too scared to get attached and lied to again, or maybe you’re just not interested at all. I mean, it took me falling for another woman to finally stop caring about my Baby Mother. Yeah, it took time. No, it didn’t work out.

But the experience was beautiful.

Love is beautiful.

She is beautiful. All of her.

But just like the many women I dated/hooked up with throughout 2020, when my BM finally left me; I’m not interested. Not now. Not back then. I can’t entertain another when I’m already stuck on someone. I can’t be myself when I’m already so hurt. It wouldn’t feel real.

I’ve already forced myself to try in the past and it wasn’t a good experience for me. I hate feeling obligated to be with someone else but more importantly, I hate leading people on.

I hate it.

To play with someone’s heart knowing I could never truly fulfill their needs is a horrible, twisted, and an ugly thing to do to someone. I don’t know how anyone could do it and not feel bad. Acting as if nothing happened.

I mean, I’ve experienced it plenty of times in my life. And sometimes I feel as if I did the same to those in my past and I feel super guilty. I feel sick to my stomach knowing I used someone else as a rebound.

Women whom I knew genuinely cared about me.

Woman who blew my mind in every sense of the phrase.

And I cared for them. Really, I did. But for the wrong reasons. I cared that they wanted me, that they loved me, they they loved being with me sexually, emotionally. Even to just lay there talking, they wanted my time…

But I just couldn’t love them back.

I couldn’t want them the way they wanted me…

And I’ve always made my intentions known. Whether it be to fuck or to be in a relationship, I could never tell someone “I love them” just to later leave, with no shred of remorse. It’s overkill… But somehow, I still feel at fault.

I knew how they felt yet continued to keep them around because of my own selfish cravings and fears of rejection and isolation. I may have been sincere with my intentions but I am at fault for breaking their hearts. I sincerely acknowledge that now and take responsibility.

And every time I see them, I can still see the love in their eyes. I can still feel them wanting me to invite them over, but I can’t… I can’t keep leading them on. Even if I am single. Even if I am over my BM.

I know how ugly of a feeling it is.

I know how devastating it could be. It ruins your self-confidence, it makes you ask yourself why you weren’t good enough for another person. Another human. We were all created equal but to feel inferior to someone who bleeds the same blood?

Hideous.

Unforgiving.

And that’s exactly what I did. I knew they were falling for me. They literally told me that they loved me. Random messages at 2-3am asking if I was awake. Random pictures with the caption “I miss you.” It didn’t faze me because they weren’t her.

A year has passed and I’m stuck on a different woman while still getting the same kinds of messages. The same kinds of pictures. Always asking to see me, to get to know me. Except this time around it’s from other women who know nothing about me or my past.

And I feel nothing.

Is this karma punishing me?

Or is this karma giving me another chance to make up for those I’ve hurt in the past?

I love being in love. I promise I do. Really. But I just don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to feel.

I think I finally understand her. I think I can finally understand them. The women who never tried to love me. The women who couldn’t love me.

To give yourself to somebody who isn’t the person you want is as confusing as it is tempting. Yeah, I love sex. But do I want to risk having somebody I don’t want, fall in love with me? Are my urges really that powerful?

I know I have self control but sometimes it’s too much. My need to feel the warmth of another woman’s body against my own, drowns me. The need to hear her moaning how much she ‘loves’ me is overwhelming… But at the end of the day they are not her.

They don’t look like her. They don’t smell like her. They don’t sound like her. They don’t taste like her. They don’t feel like her.

They are not her.

They can only satisfy so much.

And what happens after I’m done? After we’re laying there awkwardly holding each other?

I’ll answer that with the last memory I have of using somebody else to fulfill my needs;

Hotel. Late at night. Our first hook up. She felt it all.

And I felt nothing.

I felt as if I betrayed the woman I actually wanted. I felt disgusted with myself.

All while feeling bad for using someone innocent who I knew wanted something more than just a few empty orgasms.

She laid there satisfied, happy, wanting more of me, more of my time and begged. For months she begged until I inevitably blocked her number.

A year passed and when I reached out, she still craved me. We saw each other at a party and all it took was a slap on the ass for her to forget her new boyfriend.

That is not who I want to be anymore.

Karma finally reached me and I understand… I understand her, I understand them. And I understand the pain they felt from thinking they weren’t good enough for an average ass mother fucker like myself.

So the question stands;

Do I satisfy my urges or do I remain noble and keep them from feeling such devastation?

I don’t want to hurt anybody…

I never did. But I got needs too. Am I supposed to supersede my own desires with their feelings? Are their feeling supposed to be more important to me than my own cravings?

I’m not the same hurt, angry, and distraught man I once was. I may still be broken but I don’t want to take my anger out on anyone who has no fault in my hurt. I may have not cared about others’ feelings before, but I do now.

I don’t wish this pain on anyone.

Especially not somebody who only ever wanted to love me and be loved.

2022 is quickly approaching, do I really want to start my year by being a hypocrite? I just spilled my heart out on how badly I hated being led on, so why would I keep spreading that pain?

Yes, karma got its revenge for those girls this past year by making me love another. Okay, I got what I deserved. But it’s testing me again… And I really don’t know how to respond.

Idk.

I just want her back.

-g.