We Cry Together

I'm undeniably a Kendrick Lamar fan. I was geeked about the new album, like all die hard fans. I copped it the very first day, anxious to get a feel for what K. Dot was blessing us with next. It wasn't a banger like To Pimp a Butterfly, Damn, or Good Kid Mad City. But it spoke to me. One particular track that I didn't expect to hit me right in the feels was "We Cry Together." In it, a toxic couple curse one another and argue loudly. It was triggering, to say the least. It took me back to living with my son's father. My poor child having to witness my utter misery. I was sick to my stomach, hearing those words.

Another jarring aspect of the song was the fact that I knew in my spirit that was the kind of relationship that Theo wanted. The anger, resentment, walking on eggshells, toxic interaction. I wasn't about to repeat that shit after living like for years with my baby daddy. But still, that song hit me hard.

My dating life is pretty dry, but I think I like it this way. I met a guy last week and was 50/50 on if I'd see him again. He was attractive and made me feel safe. The kissing was nice too. The issue came when I couldn't get him on the phone for even the small things. Old me would have communicated that his lack of phone/texting was a concern to me. New me recognizes that if  you naturally don't like dating and open communication, I'm going to ghost your ass and leave you to waste years of the next woman's life.

What really got me to this point was my time with Ted. I spent literal years waiting for the bare minimum from him. I'm absolutely not going to waste that kind of time or energy again. With any man. That's why Theo had to go. I really miss who I thought he was, and I'm trying to find solace in being proud that I got rid of his ass before he did any real damage to my psyche or my peace. Still, it kinda hurts regardless.

I thought back on it recently, and I realized that I haven't had sex in 2 months. The last romp was with Fred in L.A. The wild thing is that I really don't even miss it. I've certainly had and have opportunities. And I can't even front, the chocha, is feeling good. Not masturbating or anything, but I know that girlfriend is in great shape. Whoever I break the seal for is going to be one lucky bastard. I'm planning to see Fred sometime in the fall, so perhaps it'll be him? I don't even know anymore. Don't really care either.

I just started a new diabetes medication. I swore that I was heading into perimenopause, but my doctor suggested that my issues with my body stem from this stupid diabetes. My cravings are lessening, but not by much. But still, this particular medication has been used by a lot of people to help with weight loss. I'm going to accept that like my mother and grandmother, I'm going to be roughly this size forever. But at least I can tone up and get this sugar addiction under control.

My new job is giving so much to ponder in the meantime. It's way easier than I thought it would be. I guess because I work with dying people, but not people I know personally. Plus most of my patients are older individuals. I have a somewhat younger patient (I believe he's in his 50's) and he's struggling with completing some planning paperwork. I know that his struggle with completing the paperwork stems from his struggles with his past.

I've only been there for just over a month now, but I'm surprised with how casually we discuss death with our clients and with each other. I feel that the older clients are normally more okay with talking about their deaths because 1) they've seen so many people die as it is and 2) because they've been sick for so long that they've made peace with it being whatever it is. I've always had a weird relationship with death, so this job just allows me to use my gifts, I guess. Plus it's so much easier and less drama than anything I've done before. I'm already considering working in hospice again whenever I leave Atlanta.

On top of the career stuff, working in hospice has shown me the kind of partner I want in life. I see dedicated husbands and wives and children. I think to myself, I want the kind of man who actually deserves that kind of loyalty and care. Today I was talking to Fred in L.A. and I told him that if he ever got sick, I'd gladly care for him. I think he'd do the same for me. The issue, however, is that I don't want a man who I think would care for me, I need someone who I know would. That's a whole new bar for dating. And I appreciate it for what it is.

In another lane, the birthday happens in a couple of weeks and I'm heading to Denver for the uncle's service. I'm making peace with his death. I understand that the logistics of getting together a service for someone of his magnitude is a lot. But I just keep thinking that I'm finally making peace with his death only to have to rip the bandaid off by having the service so far out. But the blessing is that I'll be hopping a plane and spending time with family for his service and I'll be back in Atlanta the day before my big day. It's kind of a blessing, because being that I just started my new job, I wouldn't have felt comfortable hopping a plane for my birthday, asking for the time off. But the uncle's death serves as the perfect reason to take some time off right by my big day.

Overall, I'm good. I'm at peace. I'm flourishing. My credit is doing pretty good. My hair is looking great. If these meds do what they're supposed to do, not only will my diabetes be under control for the first time in some years, I'll be toning up, spending more time in the gym as well. I'm driving a car that I love. I value myself and I only surround myself with people who value me as much as I value myself. I'm trying to get my business off the ground and I recently got an LLC.

Kendrick's song reminded me of where I was 10 years ago. Beat down, tired, neglected, overlooked. And I continued that horrible pattern for years later. But now, I'm on the other side. I'm a business owner with good hair, good skin, and a good spirit. Suck on that, bitches.