Setting Fire to the Rain

Yesterday, I had a brief moment…..

It was very brief…it was a spontaneous mind trip down unfortunate memory lane and in as I strolled about my bedroom, folding clothes, hanging dresses and looking out the window while smoking an unhealthy dose of black n mild, I thought of him. …..

Actually, I was thinking of someone else.

I was thinking very specific and it lead me right to the gas station with a blow  torch and  a cigarette. It’s funny how the slightest thought or quirk can catapult you backwards into thinking about something or someone you have no desire to let your mind mingle with. So, while thinking of a kiss, a potential kiss; nothing real, nothing in stone, no real suitor, I was actually being horny and lustful and was drifting with my thoughts somewhere in the comfort and safety of my bedroom of Not Happening.

And the next thing I knew, I was pulling up at the pump, wrestling with myself to stay in the car, lock the doors and drive off…..there was a part of me, forceful in it’s strength that kept suggesting I let the thoughts play themselves out…..this imaginary portion of my conscious was trying to convince me that allowing it to come and go at it’s leisure was in face, me controlling my thoughts. Which I do believe is quite the opposite.

From thinking about what it might be like to kiss a pair of lips I saw on an out of town excursion, during a horny moment at the crib, doing nothing but smoking and cleaning, STILL led me down the #MuseWeasel street for performing artist, aka, dudes who pretend to be men. #LowBlow #ImSTILLHealing?

I stopped trying to fight it. I let the thought happen. It was me thinking of how he kissed me. How we kissed, many times, in cars, outside places of business, in front of his son, on my porch, in front of my entire neighborhood, in front of people, places, things: NOUNS were never a factor. It quickly transitioned from the delight it used to be to play with his lips to what is the new currency. He is still kissing….and probably still somewhat a voyeur in his kisses….he’s a scorpio…I hear they are freaks, but I’m positive that they are just jerks with human-like tendencies that are only activated on their accord. * shrug*  he’s kissing someone else now.

And I haven’t been kissed since November. The first week of November.

We are closer to November 2014 than we are Nov 2013. It’s closing in on a year since I was kissed. And the one time I strut around, living in a short clip fantasy, my thoughts are stolen and misdirected over to the guy who is enjoying kissing someone else.

The first time I saw a picture of the them together was the day I thought I would be ok. It was the day that made it worse. And it was the last day we spoke to each other. It was Valentine’s Day. And within two weeks, while trying to pretend that I was doing better with each day, I would lose one of my closest sisterfriends…….

And would be thrown to the fire I had been contemplating starting since the years beginning. But I this wasn’t really what I had in mind. I wanted to do damage to his life,

To his things….since I opted to not call him out on Facebook like I so wanted to, I just wanted to fuck him up. Nights would pass with me laying awake, plotting.

I wanted to FUCK HIM UP….straight up. I was 4 seconds from not giving a fuck about being locked up for the first time, I wanted to do things to him. ….not to her, although I did plan to send her some shit too….just to let her know I existed, but then I kept saying to myself “who am I ? “

WHAT EXISTS ?

What would I be snitching on??? She won’t give a damn and neither will he. I was more livid at myself than I was him and I think that is honestly the only thing that kept me from rearranging how he thought of me. I had turned amazingly childish…I was inboxing him all day, every day, cussing him out….copy/pasting FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU into facebook paragraphs. While I wasn’t calling him out in a status, our inbox thread was filling up, day by day, with name calling, me chanting to him how much of a regret he was and how I hated and despised the day I remembered what the fuck he called himself….i told him of his selfishness….i told him how much I hurt….i remember us being on the phone at one point, during the day, and I was crying…..he said “what are you crying for” ?

I had heard those words before….

I had heard a man ask me that before…..i wish, looking back, that I  had just hung up on him and never looked back. I didn’t….i kept going …I kept inboxing…..he loved it. He ate it up…told me how he would rather me talk to him about how I was feeling rather than tell my girlfriends and have them ready to mount up…..he didn’t want to be embarrassed by his behavior….and I didn’t. I kept cool on surface, while inboxing arson to classroom. I was threatening him, her, I was angry…I wanted to catch them together and fuck him up….i wanted to wait outside of his house, right there on the corner, and fuck him up…..i wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to see how much he hurt me, affected me and rearranged me, and take it all back. That would never happen. He needed someone to talk to, so he said.

Told me that he rekindled this love by accident basically. I had to FORCE him to admit that she was his girl….and that I was no one….and had always been….that he gave her the flowers…on the same day I gave him money....he wouldn’t even admit to the length of their ‘talking’ (yeah because muthafuckas turn from hello to in a relationship overnight)…..i kept wanting to tell him that I had gone to contweets and saw their public flirting and communication had began right around that first time he stood me up.

Yeah he stood me up for a game at Victory Field…I had free tickets from a coworker….he stood me up and fucking pretended to not remember we had a date……and my feelings were so hurt….he promised to make it up, promised that he was gonna prove that I wasn’t wasting my time with him…..that is direct quote…I’d put it in marks, but his word is so muddy waters, that it won’t matter….he’s a liar. A gamer….maybe a good man now, because I still believe internally he IS a good dude for the right one, but the wrong woman will never get nothing from him but a bucket of tears that his ego will lick up and pretend to be trying to help with your wound. But I was the wrong woman. And so I got that Wrong Woman Treatment…..he voluntarily hurt me…..he told me things and talked to me like we were headed in some mutual direction. I expressed my wants and feelings to him in hopes that it would make him even more honest with me, which was something I thought he already was (sYke my mind ) …….he did nothing but take advantage of all I was ready to be to him….he hurt me, without pause….without care or concern….he pierced me without stopping to see the bloody mess he left behind. ….for weeks, I sat stranded on my couch boo-hooing to my roommate at the time……I was embarrassed….i was sooo embarrassed because I had been depleted of my strength to stay strong, at least around other people. I was in that burning room, dancing. …..

I was in that gas station, on fire.

He had driven off after pumping the next woman’s gas …..

I lost it….i won’t lie….the only thing that helped led me to the surface was this shit was all surrounding my upcoming birthday, which I was getting more and more in the dumps about…..i had walked away from him, I had ended our communication but I felt like I was dumped. We were never in a relationship, but I offered up chances and opportunities to chuck deuces at each other and he would swear that wasn’t what he wanted….all the while, he was offering up the free time he wouldn’t share with me to another woman, across twitter, for all to see.. …both of their fucking pages are public.

I wanted to spit in his face. Seriously….i could have driven up on him and spit in the middle of his face…I wanted him to feel how much I despised the fact that he was granted continued breath……I had never experienced love turning to hate the way this happened…..idk what I felt for him….idk if it was love or not….it damn sure felt like it……and I still believe its there……being continuously surpressed but sometimes, it bubbles out the sides and reminds me that it exists….. I love him ?

HOW ?

How could I love someone who didn’t even respect me enough to let me go…..he told me about a week before my birthday that he felt like we weren’t going anywhere…..lol. So we spent nine months doing dumb shit. Him playing with my feelings  and me allowing it happen….meanwhile, all across Instagram, unbeknownst to me, Miss Thang was wearing the smile he gave her, according to her meme…..she wanted her BAE to know she was thinking of him….looking and checking only for him….according to her memes….and he liked that shit….ate it up….sometimes he was tagged…..others he wasn’t ……

And here I was…

Subliminally looking for my professor to like my morning selfie shot but how could he when his eyes were on someone else’s sparrow ?

I hurt like shit for all of January……my birthday weekend allowed a break in the weather and the fact that I was prepping for a show that was named after and about him, Only The Brave (google it…it might make mo’ sense if you don’t know)…..i performed poems written because of him….and it was way over the top and beautiful….it was what I thought would heal me. ….it didn’t. It was temporary….i rode the high of a successful show and then crashed back into my bedroom, with my NY hat above my bed and a canvas of a little boy that I didn’t know what to do with……then I saw their happy couple picture on valentines day……I thought about murder….

Ok I didn’t think about murder after that.

I just thought about breaking his front dining room windows. * shrug *

I thought about shooting his tires out….i thought about painting his windows, ESP his windshield black….i thought about graffiti …..on his car…I thought about it on his door…I thought about mailing stuff, sending stuff, I thought about saying fuck being in this bad space…I thought about revenge being so sweet.

I didn’t do shit but cry harder and longer.

And before I knew it, it was Feb 27^th…..10am….and my homegirl anitra was on my phone. From that moment forward, everything else was fire……

I been grieving the loss of two people, in two totally different ways, for the last five and six months….i’ve alternated between anger and disbelief….i’ve had no shortage of tears…..no short of guilt….no short of lowered self esteem, no short of doubt of self…..to say it’s a struggle is an understatement…I can be honest….i don’t know how to grieve two losses…..two people….one best friend and one person I loved….she told me she had never seen me beaming like I was about him…….i never got a chance to tell her how much he hurt me……how much I allowed….i never got a chance to smoke and laugh and chop it up with her……

I never got a chance to have him be honest with me.

And all of this is ok……

I can move on, I can live beyond it ….heal beyond it…I can do it…I believe I can.

…..i believe it, up to the moments that I thinking about having a kiss for the first time in too many months,

And there he comes along.

Kissing someone else in my imagination.

It’s those moments where I wish I had set his  fucking life on fire right there, at pump two.

#MuseWeasel #Amused

#MuseInmate#20134102

Today’s soundtrack is currently: #ColdCase #ElleVarner

https://soundcloud.com/ellevarner/elle-varner-cold-case