The World has been talking to me.

Stop putting it off.

Alexa. It’s time to let go, move on.

 

Short exchanges I witness, online posts, words of confirmation, soul whispers.

Alright. 

I’m tuning in.

 

So; I’m feeling a little regretful and sad. I feel low energy but also imminently I know that I am responsible.

My soothing poison, my delightful distraction; hence – my participation. 

 

Rewind.

Run the story line – verdict runs; I’m truly blessed.

I must say; after surviving the darkest tunnels of my life; I always did.

I found amazing opportunities; a few unexpected graces and some good loving.

Went from Dark. 

To Light. Simple.

“No need to be serious about everything Alexa. Enjoy life. There’s a time to chill.”

Take a breather.

Been working, managing and lifting my child’s daily life.

Solo.

I workout; I can lift. 

Plus, I run on Mama’ vibes. 

But talking about haul; I received my official divorce earlier this year.

Good?

Bad and good.

Good slash bad.

Gotta move on.

 

In this smooth careless aftermath; I went from the typical good guy. 

To the stereotypical bad boy.

Good family, good upbringing, no illicit history, good straight job, no cursing. Gentle spirit.

To;

Rough family developments, street upbringing, criminal records, risky job, lots of cursing. Thunderous character.

 

How did I get there.

I don’t usually hang out with bad boys – or bad girls.

It’s tricky.

I don’t like labels and I usually believe in second chances.

And bad.

……It’s never all bad. Right?

So I observed.

 

Now, let’s see.

Recap.

 

Met at a party.

Dinner, spa, drinks, brunch, vacay getaway.

Good.

Dishonest words, anger outbursts. Short temper.

Bad.

 

Small talk, firm embraces, deep voice.

Go on.

Was then often coupled with a firecracker mood. 

Random explosions. Ouch.

I did feel damaging flickers.

Unacceptable.

 

Although I recognize; it was a good distraction. 

A nice pause from all my life’s recent serious and heavy matters.

A nice sip, fresh. Solves a certain quench.

I’m no victim.

At some point, we must all sit and observe our path.

They say everyone is responsible for the narrative of their own story.

They say that resilience stands in the gratitude, the silver lining and ultimately yes;  the record we tell ourselves.

 

Alright.

To be real; love did grow some.

Although since the very start; I was doubtful of our compatibility.

That yellow flashing light? Yup. I noticed it.

I passed it. 

My thought process was along the lines of:

Separatedfrommyhusband.Mysonachievedremission.Whatever.Life is short.

 

Get some hugs, some attention.

There’s no significant role to fill. 

No need to drive this.

Put it on cruise control.

Time went.

 

And now; I find myself in a ditch.

Standing in tousled life realities. 

Tolerating behaviors I don’t usually accept; feeling stupid and guilty.

It’s him.

Nah. 

No victim here.

It’s me.

 So now the bad outweighs the good.

Enough assessing. 

 

They say that when people show you their true colors; you should believe them.

I paid no mind to the yellow light or to those popular warnings.

I was juggling an enjoyable chorus.

Alexa, you know: “Girls, just want to have fun.“

 

So now, standing between the broken pieces of this failed relationship, I remind myself;

• “Alex, wasn’t this just a fling?“  

This wasn’t supposed to be serious.

It lasted a little longer. 

Alright. 

 

Now.

Let’s move on. 

The funny thing about narratives though, is that this latest chapter of mine.

He might be describing completely different.

Already; in our final exchanges.

I couldn’t help but feel like the monologue he was serving – was a distant stretch of our reality.

In the end; it doesn’t even matter Alex.

He holds his tale. I can perceive the unfolding differently.

No need to agree.

The need. I need; To.Let.Go. 

Make peace.

Get at ease; for whatever chapter is next.

Leave those missed calls red. Don’t answer his texts.

 

Wishing him the best. 

Health, love and Wealth.

 

Stings a bit. I miss him.

But I know this; 

This hurdle; It’s not as dark as many of my past tunnels.

Not as heavy as my former shattered loads.

So, this knowing serves as an insightful reminder.

Roll up your sleeves my darling Alexa. Do some self work, have faith.

We are blessed well and healthy.  My son and me.

Holding my integrity tightly.

Alexa; buy the bullet. 

It’s time.

Boy bye.