#i always think of this style as white women on ig who somehow have money to travel everywhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atruelioness · 5 years ago

Text

and ooh, it’s good to know...

i never thought i’d be writing this. i was going to leave it at 3 and done. i like 3. 3 is nice. 3 is neat. 3 is trinity. i figured that was all i would have to say anyway. that my confession would somehow lead to liberation and then would come love, then marriage, then baby carriage bc what else is marriage sex for?

anyway.

soundtrack: amerie - just like me (on repeat).

“for somebody, somebody who’s just like me...”

i’m listening to old songs again to remember who i am. i used to be a woman so inside of herself that all she had to do was think and there it was. the truth.

now it seems like i have to search and surrender and sacrifice and scream from the mountaintops just for anything to be or feel or manifest itself as true. well, not anymore. i freed myself and broke chains all by myself or whatever beyonce and kendrick said as they were splashing barefoot through puddles.

i meant to password protect this. partially because i doubt you even read this. just like my IG stories. just like my book i sent you. just like everything i do that’s usually for a man’s ego and not his heart because naivety. mreeuh said stop using that word bc it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy but i say it because sometimes truth is the light you need to shine to dispel darkness.

plus i’m tired of hiding. my feelings. my heart. myself. man up and recognize a real one when you see her. or read her.

“somebody, somebody who feels like me.”

GOD WHAT IS THIS ALL FOR? i’m tired. i’m tired of loving with a heart with no sense of direction or GPS and making all the wrong turns that have me ending up exactly where i need to be each and every time like a pinned tweet.

can you be real without me fucking up first? can love be real without the frontin and denying and triangulation and abuse and emphasized and loved texts but never a text out of the blue (pun fucking intended and dismissed) to see how i am doing while i pray and basically ascend you and raise you as a king only for you to randomly and spontaneously sweat everyone but me so hard that they themselves have to question why you’re so obsessed with them. wyd?

like, no really, wassup with you? can i invoice you for all this wasted time because i could really use the money to get out of the situation i was never planning to get up out of in the first place. like, i get it. mans a huge fucking wasteman. huge bloodly bloodclaat pussyhole eediat. i get it get it or whatever drake said.

“that there’s somebody... there’s somebody, somebody who loves like me.”

but what was the point of being rescued only to wind up on the white horse by myself? i guess i could have rescued my damn self so i did but i keep giving credit where none is due. just like the logos i placed on that flier for no reason for people who would style me in a second, i built an entire throne in my heart and placed you on it just to get someone else off only to find that you never set it in anyway. you too busy being whoever the fuck you are when you’re not being the man of my dreams which seems to be any time spent outside of my own head which is why i wasn’t with the shits in the first place.

but hardhead. but hopeful romantic. but God. yeah yeah, ye ye ye. burn har like a burna boy song. do whatever makes your ego feel amazing because i guess all of m y love and and prayers and accolades and whatever the heaven i was doing was just me being a spiritual schoolas again and not a grown ass woman.

GOD NO REALLY WYD?

i’m ignoring every call and text and DM and email of my narcissistically abusive ex-lover for my possibly narcissistic crush to lead me on a long journey to nowhere. i say nowhere because how in the world could you get that close to love and decide you wanna subtweet her and the God she serves?

who are you and why did i ever think you were the One? what kinda illusion, what in the obeah, what kind of rice water did you dip your face in to come up with that one? who sent you so I can ship you right back to sender?

okay that was mean. but didn’t they tell you that i was a savage? didn’t your wife tell you that we could be heartless, regardless, of our conscience? women that is. i’m not upset or bitter so much as i am perplexed and disappointed.

do you know what i went through to trust you? i still have the worn out magazine. i still have a thousand blue items strung around my home. i still have this memory pressed inside of my head of how it felt to finally release that night to your music and how you felt like the only pure energy in the room. how i knew exactly what to do and where to sit even if i didn’t know what to say. how you were always where i could see you and how all of our favourite songs were playing. how i placed khanzi in your lap only to come out and find him in someone else’s. how many people have it twisted and still don’t get it.

“i’ve waited so long, for somebody who can do it like me.”

i don’t even wanna write about it anymore. i don’t want to spend another second on anything that isn’t real or God or love or all of the above.

i took it far enough to know i don’t need to take it any further. i went through this already. with so many others. didn’t i tell you? did i not recite jhene aikos stranger perfectly and wasn’t sparks will fly w. jcole about.... ? nah. no more.

never again. because next time i will be sure.

because i am a true lioness. because i don’t come easy. because i am a girl like this, in a world like this. because i’m a bbc queen, star.

what hapn to you?

i guess we’ll never know. this is not me giving up, btw. this is me not giving in. to temptation. being delivered. not from evil, but still. amen. mentally and socially and culturally and verbally and spiritually preparing for africa. i said 2021 but jah9 said kenya 2020 and i’m like you know what, that could work. i just wanted to see vision 2020 come true for jamaica. i know i said forever, but 3 stacks said forever never feels that long until you’re grown.

and i’m a grown ass woman. again. there’s a song about this you’ll never listen to: xavier omar - grown woman. another xavier omar - blind man. and hours spent loving you (spzrkt).

“waited all my life, for somebody like... somebody who’s just like me.”

i mourn all the songs i’ll never get to play for you. i mourn all the locs i’ll never get to play in. i mourn khanzi and mocha’s play dates. i mourn those navy blue shorts and what i accidentally almost felt was in them and how for some reason in that moment i wasn’t shy whatsoever, and all the unspeakable things i did in the name of love and liberation.

by mourn i mean listen to r&b lol. by mourn i mean... damn, bruh.

maybe next lifetime.

i’m not with ntn. just God alone.

still love you. but yeah, bless.

💙

#self-care

1 note · View note