A Lover's Mentality 2

Collins

23

The show must go on… with or without you

People will come in and out of your life, pushing and pulling you, and constantly it will seem like your heart will get broken. It’s life. Sometimes you wonder if it will always be this way. As I become to grow as a woman, I am constantly learning to put myself first. Hey, that’s what I should have done when it came to making a life or death decision before I aborted my child. Yes, I did put myself first, but it was in a selfish act. I thought about myself and myself only.

Although in the end, sometimes people in the world will turn their backs on you and you will only have yourself which will only make you block out the world… your friends… your family… the pain. Loving the wrong person for wishful thinking reasons will take a toll on you. That is, only if you will allow it. Never block out those who are out to love you for you. Reason being there is always going to be something out in the world that that person can offer you. That’s a true life lesson.

As I open my journal, I turn to a blank piece of page… in so many words… so many thoughts I feel that I have so much to say that I can only be released in this little world of mines. Picking up my gel pen… my thoughts began to flow… releasing into wet ink words that have been inscribed in my mind. For some reason, expressing them on paper gives me the feeling of peace. What was imprinted in ink can never be erased from my heart.

Life is about taking risks. You love, you love hard and fuck around, and you get hurt. The world is notgoing to stop just because you had a sour relationship. Hell, it did not stop for me when I was going through the motion with Shame. He was still fucking off, hoes was still calling my phone, his baby mama was still with the shit … I mean, I have learned that it turned out to be a never-ending story unless I did something about it.

After the abortion; I am realizing that life is too short to hold grudges, to worry about your enemies even to live in the past. I am realizing that it is a waste of time and the happiness that I am missing out on. They say laugh when you can and apologize when you should and to let go of what you can’t change.

In the end, after so many failed attempts with the results being that there is no changing Shame. At the time, I felt like loving him was right, so yeah, I admit that I loved him deeply, forgave him quickly, and took my chances of dealing with the bullshit that I had to go through. In all, I’m sitting here telling myself that I should not have any regrets. Yet I’m regretting loving him, I’m regretting aborting my unborn. I’m regretting giving in to love.

After days of going through the motions with Shame; cooped up in my house depressed and down on love… I really had to come to terms with life being too short to be unhappy. They say take the good with the bad and I’m finding a hard time balancing the two. Though I have to continuously tell myself to keep smiling and loving what I have. Not only that, but I am damn sure going to learn from these simple-ass mistakes and choices that I choose to make. In life, people do change and things do go wrong—but Yemya LeShay Smith’s life must go on.

I can’t continue to wake up tomorrow morning with regrets. I need to get myself together and focus on my love for the ones who treat me right without a concern for those who don’t. They won’t cause shit but problems in my life. In belief, I know that things happen for a reason. In all, if it was meant for Shame and I to be together then God would have issued that blessing. Apparently, He has another thing in store for me. Therefore, my patience must be a virtue. Besides, chances change my life for a reason. I just have to learn to trust God and let it go.

As I get older, I’m starting to learn that although I feel as if Shame was not supposed to have been the one to let me down, I pray that it will be last time I let some nigga break into my heart. Hell, I have broken hearts my damn self, and I now know the feeling is not good when you think you truly love someone.

I have fought with my best friends. I have even blamed other people for my mishaps, which have only given me a reason to become stronger. Why does the effect of love hurts when it comes from a man who is careless? I can never seem to get that through my head.

Yemya

Slamming my journal shut, letting out a sigh of frustration; feeling the need to vent, to scream, to at least do something to clear up this confusion that so happen to have become a burden on my back.

Glancing at my phone as Beyonce’s Ring the Alarm continued to play indicating that I have a text message. Part of me could not care less about who sent the text. As the tone continues to play, I sing the words loudly.

Ring the alarm I’ve been doing this too long and I’ll be damned if I see another bitch on your arm! Running my thumb across the screen to open the message…

Call me!

It was a message from Shame. Despite us breaking up weeks and days of me not talking to him, Shame still wants to hit me up. I am unsure if calling him is something I want to do. I clearly call myself moving on now that I have found me a new acquaintance. At least that’s what I would like for it to be. It’s just a mere thought.

Shame and Hustle are two completely different people. I just haven’t begun to give Hustle the time of day. Being unsure of his motives I still want him to stick around. I still want to figure him out. Hustle comes off as the impractical type which is so intriguing, from his swag, to his generous personality… I mean Hustle could be it!

I know that he is a single man and single men do single men things, which is understood on my end. It will be arrogant of me to want to be overbearing.  Until then, I love this fierce mentality of mines. Strong-willed. Determined. Heartless. Besides, I will always have a story to tell.

Prologue

A person does not feel heartbreak until it actually happens. Though the thoughts and the feelings of what you have once thought was love… do come to pass. I am learning that the hard way. After breaking up with Shame a few weeks ago, I have come to realize a lot about myself as person.

That is to say, love does not bring about so much mess that people commit suicide over, love does not bring about so much drama that you rather go to jail over. Love does not bring about so much heartache that you degrade yourself as a woman and devalue your character. Love, loves you whole and accepts you unconditionally; to build and better you into the person that you need to become. As much as I cared about Shame, he was bad news. I am learning that the hard way even when it confuses the shit of me on what love really is. I have yet to know.

A few days ago, I came across the craziest encounter. The chemistry between he and I bounced off the buildings at the Social. His persona peeked my interest to thoughts of who could this guy be? Although it had felt strange, but to have a man wait for a tow truck to come get me because my car was with not one but two flats… I mean, he seems like a pretty cool guy and such a gentleman. He said that his name was Hustle… Humph… See names like that I feel that I need to stay far away from. Yet and still, Hustle had this kind of demeanor and sex appeal about himself with his Louisiana native tongue, Creole with a twinge of French! Umm and his droopy hazel eyes… let me stop before I get ahead of myself… coochie getting riled up for no reason. My lustful thoughts are why my ass got caught up with Shame; lucking up over nothing.

At times I wonder was our relationship worth the down fall. Was our relationship worth the chance of us even meeting? How can I even compare him to Hustle? Wait? I don’t even know Hustle– so how can I compare him to Shame. For some reason, I can’t seem to get either one of them off of my mind. With Shame, my feelings are tied to my past and with Hustle– the curiosity just won’t let me stray away.

There were times that pain would not let me go– my relationship with Shame just would not release me from wanting him still. The thought of him coming into my life to make me whole, in reality it feels like what he really did was took pieces of my soul. In a way, I thought that just praying about it would make Shame disappear from my thoughts. His phone calls and text messages just never seemed to seize.

As much I as I want to make our relationship work. I am tired. My bones are aching with grief from past issues and memories about what I once thought to be love. Although I keep telling myself that I can’t concentrate on what happened in the past… the baby that I have lost, the naïve decisions that I have chosen to make. I just can’t keep beating myself up over lost love.

For that I have to think about what I have found. I have to keep my vision aimed and steady– focusing on what the future has in store for me. If I don’t then it means shit happens for nothing and right now I can’t live with it being that way. Sacrificing the life of my unborn, sacrificing my time, my heart… everything… I don’t want it to be for nothing. When, after all, I have survived through the pain and heartache that most women have to deal with in the society when it comes to love.

Closing my journal shut and placing it underneath my pillow. I reached for my remote to turn on the TV so that I could catch up with The Game episode. After watching the first few episodes I was indulged in Melanie and Derwin characters, those two seem like my ideal relationship; powerful and compelling. Something that I wish that I had with Shame…

After all, I have flaws too… After finding the last episode that I had left to record, I sat back comfortably ready for the show to begin. As I waited, I felt my phone vibrate beside my leg, reaching for it then opening up my inbox messages I notice that I received two messages from Hustle; before texting him back, I decided to check the other message came. Unsure of the phone number I open it first out of curiosity and read.

Yemya, dis is my new number… I luv u gurl… we need 2 talk. Shame.

24

People make promises that they know that they can’t keep, promises that start with always and ends with forever. People make it to the impossible and fail miserably. Or stick it out and pretend that there was some great reward for enduring a life in depression and torture.

Yemya!

I hear Kenya say while I was walking out of my bedroom. Wearing a bright pink sports bra and black capri leggings that shaped around my 36 inch curve highlighting the arch in my back; bending over to assess the shoe strings in my pink and grey Nikes I continued towards my living room to where my sister is sitting.

Yes JeKenya I spoke with a sigh calling my half-sister by her full name. I loved my big sister but damn she can be so agonizing when it comes to her patience. She knows that I am not a morning person. Yet and still, she wants to come to my house, politely let herself in; interrupting my wet dreams about Hustle talking about lets go jogging. WHAT! It’s five in the freaking morning… and Hustle was about put the head of his dick in dammit… She just knows how to ruin a good moment without even knowing it…

Why are you taking so long to throw on some damn jogging shoes and sweats? She inquired as she sat back on the cream love seats starring up at me.

Do you realize that it is my day off… and how early it is? I inquired. At least I got my butt up instead of cursing you out and then turning over on you Kenya. I said with a giggle as I walk into my kitchen to grab a cold bottle of water out of the refrigerator to take along our run.

"Do you realized that we have talked about running on Saturdays to stay in shape… so don’t act brand new about it– okay? I told you the time and you agreed on it. So please Mya save me the complaints