Tuesday, July 5, 2011

21 + 3, and other things

It's been so long since I've written, I'm surprised my blog remembers who I am. I almost expected an error message to pop up when I tried to log in.

I'm sorry, you are no longer recognized. Please start over and try again.

Thankfully, that didn't happen. My blog tells me I haven't written since June 8th. It feels like it's been much longer than that. Maybe it's simply because so many things have changed so quickly, maybe that's why it feels like it's been forever.

Well, to start, happy birthday to me :) I am beyond happy and blessed to have seen another year on this tumultuous land we call Earth; in this spacey place we call America. Twenty-four is solid. Not quite my mid-twenties yet, but I'm almost too far gone from 21 (in fact, this is probably the last year I'll include 21 in my age calculations), and getting ever closer to 30. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that I'm an adult. Since adolescence (in memory) wasn't that long ago, sometimes I forget that I can do whatever I need to do myself. That I'm legal, and don't need my parents there to do anything for me. You might wonder how one can forget that, but trust me, it's possible. Being an adult is an idea you have to get used to.

So, let's take a trip back in time, shall we? I feel it necessary in order to catch you up on where I am now.

These are the types of days that are going to make me miss Miami... Knowing that you are slated to go somewhere else aids in perspective shifting. ("prayer answered/perspective"; Friday, March 11, 2011)

So, around this time, I was working with the knowledge that I would be moving to San Jose, California, to pursue another City Year term. I was right: knowing that you're going to go somewhere else leads to perspective shifts, and usually an embracing of your surroundings. I wanted to get the most that I could out of Miami, because my time in the city was coming to a close. Well... not so much. In May, I believe it was, I was granted with a phone call from CY San Jose, regretfully informing me that the department I was slated to work in had been reduced to simply a management position, meaning that I no longer had a position. City Year giveth, and City Year taketh away. Just like that, the move that I thought I was going to be making was no longer happening. I'm a big believer in signs, so I took that as a sign from up above that I wasn't supposed to be moving, at least not to Cali. Maybe there was something left for me to find on the East coast...

I started looking for jobs at home in Orlando, not really giving much thought to staying in Miami. In fact, my first thought was that I would move back to Orlando. I started rallying the troops; telling my friends at home that I would be making an appearance back in the hometown... started setting up welcome back/birthday parties and all. (I unfortunately inherited the penchant for speaking too soon from my father.) As fate would have it, though, there were no jobs popping for me at home. Called my old boss, he couldn't really offer me any concrete answers; sent off resumes and cover letters, and wasn't hearing anything back from anyone. Time was drawing closer to my City Year term being over, and I was beginning to get antsy. I needed to find a job, but Orlando wasn't biting. It was suggested to me that I should look here in Miami. I had completely overlooked Miami, even though I was living in Miami. My mind was so set on getting out, that I didn't even consider Miami to be a resource.

As I thought about it, I thought about the group of friends I'd made. Started thinking about the fun times we'd all shared. Stood on my balcony and looked at that view and pondered deep. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't time for me to leave Miami yet.

That April, after having a like/hate relationship (mostly hate) with Gainesville for so long, I finally settled... and right when it was time for me to leave, I got the feeling that I have now: awww man, everything's finally fallen into place. That sensation is exactly what tells me it's time to go. ("April 2008 to 2009 to 2010"; Wednesday, April 21, 2010)

Something clicked inside my brain one day when I was at work (better late than never, I suppose). As the quote above states, when I lived in Gainesville, and found myself finally comfortable, it was time to leave. Though I was never uncomfortable at home, once I found my little groove in Orlando, it was time for me to leave. And here I was, with my little Miami groove, and I was preparing to leave it also. My sister said to me once, when I was talking to her about wanting to maybe move to New York because I just wanted and needed something different, "Well, what if you don't like it there either?" I have had a habit of living places, not liking them, and then moving to something else, only to find myself repeating the same type of behavior. At some point, I finally came to the realization that it had much less to do with the places than it had to do with me. This had a lot to do with why I decided to try to stay in Miami. I decided that at some point (no time like the present), I was going to have to stick with a place, and let it grow on me. Stop being so stubborn and try to accept someplace that isn't home. If I keep jumping from place to place, year to year, I'm never going to form any type of relationship with anywhere.

And go figure, as I had this realization and sent my resume to my boss for an open AmeriCorps position, I received a phone call the same day from the employer, and essentially got the job before interviewing and before meeting him in person. Man, when something is meant for you, it's meant for you. So, Miami and I will have another year to grow on each other.

Even now, I feel like I never get any reciprocity. Never. No one is ever on the same page with me, no one can ever emote as deeply as I can, no one feels and I mean really feels the way I do. I feel like whether I play the games or don't play the games, I still end up with the same result (nothing). Sometimes I wonder who I have to be in order to get what I want, but I don't feel like I have the energy. ("Jazz in the Gardens, feelings, and Lauryn Hill"; Sunday, March 20, 2011)

I want to love someone past the boundaries that even I'm comfortable with, and have them love me in return, and I want us to be happy. I don't want everything to be perfect. I don't want either one of us to be mental vegetables. I don't want us to have sex because we feel like that's what we're supposed to do. I want us to like each other quite a bit and be able to recognize it. I don't want us to be perfect, and I want us to love one another for our innate imperfection. I don't want any more fucking fool's gold. I want the real thing. ("'for me it ain't real... it's fool's gold...'"; Wednesday, March 9, 2011)

Maybe, quite frankly, I have deluded myself into believing that someone should, and will accept me for exactly who I am. Thus, since I believe in this delusion, I refuse to change myself... I am now genuinely considering whether or not this idea that it will all work out simply because someone will be marvelous enough to accept me as I am is, indeed, a delusion. Even if it is a delusion, it's one I believe in. Yes, I believe and hope within my heart that someone will come along and accept me as I am. Why? Because I believe I deserve it. ("I love me more than the thought of you"; Saturday, May 14, 2011)

Okay. Let's travel back a bit. That was a lot to digest. Essentially, before late May/June, this is where I was, with regards to relationships. I found that no one was on the same page as me, I was still only meeting dudes good enough for a fuck or two, I still could only trust and believe in men as far as I could throw them, my ex was still behaving like a piece of shit (I wonder why I imagined he would change), and I still wanted a relationship, though I wasn't sure how much I really trusted the idea. I started to wonder whether maybe I was deluding myself into believing that someone would come along and take me as I was. Well, it's funny how things work sometimes, because I met someone. Someone who accepts me exactly as I am. Someone who looks out for me. Someone who genuinely loves me--not just the pussy, not just the head, not just the way my ass looks in a pair of jeans. He doesn't love the idea of me, rather, the reality of me, the totality of me. He's a friend who's not afraid to check me when I've overstepped my boundaries. When I've gotten so inside my feelings I've checked out. He's a homie who's my road dawg. He's a lover who listens. He holds my hand, he holds my body, he holds my heart. He is that person who does more than tell me where my worth should be, he shows me where my worth is.

Funny, he was under my nose for a minute, and I never realized it. Never gave it a second thought, honestly, because as usual, I spent all my time focusing on the dudes that didn't give two shits about me. Trying to make this dude want to fuck with me. Trying to make my ex pay more attention to me. The usual mistakes that people make when they just need someone to care.

As I said in a previous post, I have become the person I used to stare at and envy. The person walking around holding hands and kissing their significant other. The person looking happy. My mother always told me to never look at others and judge because, being on the outside looking in, you don't know the reality of their situation, but I knew that those people I used to envy looked happy, and I wanted that. And I got it. And I'm blessed. Not boastful, not taking a second of anything for granted. Simply blessed, and happy beyond anything I have ever known. I am grateful. Grateful for fate working against my desires, because if I'd had it my way, I would have never known him, and probably would still be on the other side of my Facebook page, pining after an ex that does not care about me, nor for me.

That, is what has been going on with me lately. Traveling all over the place, in love, helping my sister with her transition to college, hanging out, enjoying myself, oh, and I picked up some thickness too... time to find another gym.

Oh, and I got rid of my cat. There are people out there who are better suited to be pet owners, so I made their dreams come true. I love a clean room more than her. I'm honest.

Oh, and it's time for me to move to a different apartment. My first year in Miami went by faster than I expected it to, even though I knew a year would fly by. A year is not a long period of time by any means, but so many things can happen in that short amount of time. I gained so much. So many lessons, so many great additions to my life.

I am blessed. Thankful beyond words.

I am at peace.

Unless otherwise indicated, all words here are property of Miss Malorie

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