I did. And honestly, I’m beginning to regret it. But I know staying behind and never reaching my full potential, would make me resent my love in the long run.
My love. Gentle. Patient. Kind. A beautiful person with an immense amount of strength both physical and mental. What he has been through, would make the strongest man crack but he came through the fire standing tall and shining. Not broken spirited, which was the goal of his captors. My love, I know I will never find another like you.
What is most important in life? Love or success? You can’t be successful laid under a man and never going out to pursue your hearts truest desires. For most of my life. I have been alone. Solo, moving through life without the proper support system or solid family or parental units. Still, God has blessed me with certain people during critical times in my life.
For three years I loved you. Cared for you. Slept with you. Lived with you. Cooked for you. Washed your clothes. Slept on your chest. Our bodies fit together better than tetris pieces. These are the moments I hold most dear. I felt so safe with you. I did not want to leave you. I regret it in this moment. That’s better, than regretting you, in the long run. I hope you understand.
My love for you will never die. No one will ever compare to you. I’d rather be alone than be with someone who falls short of the person you are.
And it’s scary because I’m prepared for that.
To be alone.
Like my life long before you.
3 Comments
I totally feel the love part, and am missing love and person that I once spent years with. My situation is kinda different I didnt leave her, I let other things distract me away from even what loving was. For me I feel love is more important and the right love I’d hope would make you strive to be even more successful. Love is the strongest.
Ver relatable piece. Harsh, yet a powerful choice. It’s essential, especially as womxn, to not put ourselves in the back burner! Love it, yo ?
I did, when I was 19 years old. She was the most popular girl at my school and I was in a group home, a known trouble maker. Her family was from Zambia, Mine from Ethiopia. She listened to me, was there for me when nobody else was, used to always write me these long ass love notes that would make my day, At the time I had ran away from placement and was on the run, it was like November 2004. While on the run I made some very bad decisions, St. Louis was way worse than what it is now. I had no choice but to leave, I didn’t tell her I left until I had already got to California, she was devastated. She was my friend on Facebook before I deactivated my account, but we never said anything to each other. She’s a deacon now, married to a Pastor. And me, Im still dream chasing…