Lost Files

Lost Files

I’ve been a little inactive lately on my blog. That’s going to change within these next couple of weeks. In the meantime, I’ve been looking through some notes of mine and found a few pieces I randomly wrote on days I felt sad, uplifted, or confused. I thought–while you wait for this big piece I want to post–you can read the ramblings of my mind in different times. Here are some lost files:

A car ride full of dreams…

Photo by Designecologist 

Song: If we never met

Warning: Read at Night for best effect

Aug, 8. 2019

There are not many amazing things about living in Delaware. We don’t have the tall and breathtaking Grand Canyon like Arizona; or the beautiful beaches in Honolulu. We don’t have the essence of a new life and rebirth that can be found in the exhilaration of Los Angeles. Nor the fast-moving modernity of New York. But we have the stars. Sitting here in the back of my sisters beat up buggy. Listening to “If We Never Met” by John K. I feel utter bliss. Peace, if you will. I’m proud of myself. Because I truly feel like a new person. I no longer feel held down by my negative thoughts or like I’m holding on to an endless feeling of sadness. I feel hopeful. Hope that one day, I’ll be living the life I’ve always dreamed of. A life where I’m 25, living in a decked-out apartment on the upper east side of my city. Working as a clinical psychologist—always traveling to help the next person—but finally settling down in the city for a job here. A life where I wake up to go to work in what is soon to become my own private practice. I take a few hours in my day to be a translator for meetings with politicians who enter the country and for games so that individuals who are deaf can enjoy the wins too. At night, I come home to my man and we sit by the fireplace reading and watching the stars. The stars like the ones outside tonight. And as I read, I continue to dream.

Dream of a life as bright and beautiful as these stars. There’s one in particular, that shines brighter than the rest. And as I watch the star gleam, I wonder if someone else is seeing this star too. Maybe my soulmate is watching the same star, yearning for us to find each other one day. Maybe it’s my best friend, dreaming of an amazing life of her own. Pleading for all her problems to go away. Maybe it’s someone who’s going to be so important in my life, that they’ll pop up unexpected and change my world for the better. Maybe it’s someone across the world or on the west coast. Maybe it’s YOU. If it’s dark outside, go to your window. Look outside at the peaceful bliss of the night. Do you see the star? If you do, dream with me. Dream of the life you’d be proud of. A life where all your hopes and dreams are right at your fingertips. Escape for a second. Close your eyes and dream on this star. And when you’re done dreaming, get up. Write it down and be prepared, we’re going to make that dream come true.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams”

Eleanor Roosevelt 

APB

Wait for Love…

Sept. 15, 2019


Photo by Rakicevic Nenad from Pexels

So, there were these people. An even though they don’t mean much now; even though they’re such a minuscule part of my story, they’re still a part. A part of my darkness. A particle that helped prolong it. A reminder of a lonely and sad world. Of a feeling that I might be alone forever. That there must be something wrong with me. That no matter how much I bring to the table, it’s never enough. But it is enough. I am enough. As much as I spent my time doubting myself or being annoyed at their actions or comments, deep down they gave me relief. Because it gave me more and more reason to pull myself from toxic situations. It caused me to take moments where I would sit there and think of relationships—romantic and platonic alike. Think of what it means to make a connection with people and love someone. Have I ever felt love before? Sure, I’ve felt the deep love for friends and family. People who I can’t live without. But a romantic love, I don’t think I have. But I’ve become content with the fact that I don’t need to. Not yet anyway. I have all the love I could ever ask for right now, and that’s enough. I love myself. So, I will wait for romantic love. Because one day, for that right person, I will be enough.

Don’t be fooled. I know social media shows all the guys who treat girls like shit and all the females who go through this “hoe” phase. I can tell you firsthand, all girls don’t go through that phase and not all guys are assholes. Some are so genuine. So smart. So respectful. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it growing up watching my dad interact with my mom. He would not let her touch a car door; he must open it. He would buy her things she briefly mentioned in a store; not because he felt like he had to, but because he knew it would make her happy. He would give her love and support in dark times. He would rush to her beck and call if she needed him. He would do all this because he loves her. And he did this with us too. All his kids he showered with love, care, and compassion.

 I’ve seen it in how he tries to raise my brother.

“Chris get that bag for your sister; a lady shouldn’t be heavy lifting”.

 “Chris can you open the door for your mom”.

“Chris, let the ladies in first”.  

Because of him, I know what it truly means to be loved. But from my mom, I know what it means to be strong. She taught me to not let a man define my happiness but to love myself. To not let others have power of me. To be the best I could be. To love myself for who I am because I’m the only person that can control my happiness. And when I’ve truly found happiness in myself, and finally seek it from others…to trust in what she’s instilled in me. To choose someone that holds the same values for love and care, as my parents have. To grow in divine love.

My best friend for one…we’ll call him K. He is another example of a man who treats women with love and respect. K is going to be such an amazing boyfriend to some girl someday. I can’t wait to see some girl fall head over heels for him, in constant awe of how he acts. K is like a brother to me, but still he’s always treated me with respect. K got mad when I opened doors. If it was raining out and I was scared to get my feet wet (even as a joke), K would pick me up bridal style to get to where we needed to go. But like I said, not all men are assholes. Find them. Find the good ones. And ladies I know it’s hard, but don’t be afraid to wait. Sometimes temporary is okay. Sometimes temporary is what you need to learn something. But once you feel in your heart that you want more. You need more. Wait. More will come.

APB

Death in transition

March 28, 2020

Trying to be very realistic here because this is life. You constantly lose people; friends drift apart, grandparents pass away, dogs die, eventually your parents and then one day… so do you. Life is so fleeting that they constantly tell us to live every moment like its our last. To explore the world and experience everything life has to offer. But why does a loss of life cause the living to experience a loss of self? Wouldn’t it be more practical for us to feel just as at peace as those that pass? Instead were left to be the ones that are heartbroken and lost, thus funerals are for the living not the dead. Maybe its so heartbreaking because its a moment of recollection. Maybe because we sit here and think to ourselves, what have I really experienced? Is my life the one I truly choose to live? And the weight of that, of those questions and those implications causes us to break down. To suffer. Or maybe its simply the fact that while that person is gone, their memories remain. Every joyful moment and sweet touch we’ve every received from them still lingering in our minds; moments we’ll never get to experience again. A sad and yet blissful thought. I’m trying to be optimistic . Trying to see the path of health and rejuvenation for my grandfather. But all I can see are our memories. This man practically raised me alongside my parents. All those years my parents went traveling we stayed at his house running the blocks of Philly, making friends, and coming home to him. All those years as a child being watched after daycare or before I even attended school . Playing dress up with him and turning him into a beautiful princess; having his makeup, nails, and jewelry all done up. Ive had the most amazing moments and laughs with that man. He raised me. And I already see him dead. Already feel like I’ve lost my moments with him. The laughs, the jokes. Endlessly watching old western channels and crime shows. And its gone. I can’t even think about my mother without being sad. She’s the strongest person I know but this is her last parent.  And the same devil will have taken both.  

APB

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