Welcome To My Downfall.

There is a 98% chance that I will be single this summer. And it absolutely kills me. The love of my (current) life is going to walk away from a two-year roller coaster of a relationship. I guess you can say this is our second major fight, and you have decided that you need some space from our current situation. And it absolutely kills me. You have become a fixture in my college career and to know that you will be non-existent tears me up inside. You are more than just a boyfriend. You are my best friend. You are my cuddle buddy. You are my everything at this current time of my life. When, I guess if, we talk about this and you use my own words against me, I will be a mess. It will be the worst day of my life. You are officially gone. Now I would never say our relationship is perfect; in fact there is no ounce of perfection involved. But it works. You believe that I don’t give a damn about your efforts. I don’t give a damn that you are doing the best that you can to make me happy. And I would assume that all those niggas would have me pegged as an ungrateful, demanding bitch. But I’m learning. And sometimes I fall. A lot of times I fall. But I refuse to take the burdens of this relationship any longer. I refuse to be the only blame that our relationship has failed. It is not my absolute fault. I will admit that I am insecure. I will admit that my overbearing trust issues have made it very difficult for me to let go. I will admit that I do not know how to handle all of my emotions and it results in a blow-up. But I refuse for all my “problems” to be the reason things do not end well. I try and see things your way. You don’t how to express. You don’t know how to show. You do what you can. You are going through struggles. And for the last 11 months, those problems have become mine. And you may say nobody asked me to. But nobody asked me to love you, yet I do so faithfully. There are struggles of being a black man in society, and I am surrounded by enough of them to know. But what are my struggles? I refuse to let you believe that you are the only man in the world going through some shit. I refuse to let that be the reason why my issues are irrelevant. I need to realize that what I ask for is not outlandish. I need to realize that what I give should be matched by what I receive. Not because I feel as if I am an “typical entitled female,”  but because I have earned it. Baby, I need you. In the worst way. I need you more than words can allow to me express. I need you. I will be a mess without you. But if we can’t make this 50/50, then what is it? We both said things. We pushed each other. But you can’t just walk away. Baby, if you can give me that act of reassurance, I promise this will go away. I can only be so confident. I can only hold on to so much. Meet me halfway. Know that I have changed for you. Baby, I am running out of things to say. And if you decide to walk away from everything, know what you are taking with you. It’s not just a title, dick, and some gifts. It’s my heart. It’s my world. It’s a support system that may not be amazing, but it is there. It is my life. Jheryl C. Wilson, I love you. Everything about you. WE make mistakes. But WE can fix them. WE always have. Don’t do this. Please. Don’t do this.

As you lay next to me, a lot of things go through my mind. I guess for starters, I wonder if you love me. I wonder if the eighteenth of May means as much to you as it does to me. I wonder if you will ever break down and feel what I feel. I wonder if you hurt. If you worry. If you have the same fears that I do. Most of all I wonder we are here. If there’s a real reason. Is it just sex? And if so, why waste time? Why waste the feeling that could be given to someone else who may have deserved it more. I wonder if you think ahead. I wonder what goes through your mind when you see me. In a group. By myself. When we lay together. Like we’re doing now. I wonder if this will last. But sometimes, I wonder what this pain is gonna feel like. It can’t get much worse.

yorkiebreeds.

chutiik.

And I got mad love to give. You my nigga. ✌ (Taken with instagram)

Little Caesars with Tyette 😁 (Taken with instagram)

Amadou Diallo. Sean Bell. Trayvon Martin. All African-American men wrongfully killed by someone of the opposite race. After each murder, there was uproar in the African-American community. And you know how that go. Al Sharpton gotta make some kinda speech. People marching up down MLK Blvd. Occasional “Fuck the Police” chants. Here’s the problem: black people get riled up and start a parade and forget all about this shit tomorrow. Another problem? Black people need to fix their own shit before they go on some other shit. Before “we” pull the race card and blame everything on the “white man,” let’s fix the black on black crime. No one saying shit about niggas killing niggas though right? But everything is someone else’s fault. Before we say it’s a “race issue,” let’s stop this whole light skin/dark skin hatred and the gang violence that kills African-American kids everyday. But that thug life is the wave though right? Let’s stop selling drugs to our own community. LET’S STOP SELLING DRUGS LIKE THIS SHIT IS COOL. “Oh but that’s the only we can survive in the hood because they not tryna see us make it.” No, you just not tryna make it. Stop relying on rappers to tell you about simple life concepts. Stop relying on our black president to spoon feed you success. Stop blaming it on race. Racism only exists because we allow it to exist. We play the race card because we know we can and it makes it easier to allow ignorance to happen. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of fucked shit going on in the world. But until we clean our own mess and empower our own people, we cannot be mad at anybody else but ourselves. “Get up, get out, and get something. Don’t spend all ya life tryna get high. Cuz you and I got to do for you and I.”

I’m a horrible person. That’s what I’ve decided. I’m just bad at being a person. That’s it. I crave attention and am so afraid of being alone, I will fuck up anything to get it. I’m anti-social to the point where it is seen as bitchy. I’m on and off and no one knows when it is coming. I’m clingy and annoying and lack self-worth. I’m lazy and unproductive and without a clear future. I’m not funny or smart. I lack priorities. I’m a walking basket case. I just……suck as a person. End of story.

johnpolanco.