Sometimes healing means admitting that what was once true about you isn't true anymore.
At what point do we start being brutally honest with ourselves?
Just because something is true in a moment doesn't mean you're married to that truth. You know what I mean?
Like, just because you're fat today doesn't mean you won't ever be fit. The list goes on. But if you seriously crave the change, you gotta act. You won't lose weight by doing the same ol' fat things. You gotta adjust your preferences and comfort zone.
So what's my reality?
My reality is that I'm single—and okay with it.
I think about loving a man and being married, but honestly, I can't even envision it.
I can't imagine myself being cuddled up and reporting to a dude. Like...
As much as I might not want to admit it, I'm not ready to date.
I chose wrong for too long, and as things have continued to go right in my life, I don't wanna add a new ingredient and mess up the recipe.
I mean, God would have to send the dude to me in a package, sent directly from his addy, for me to even go for it.
Otherwise, I'll keep focusing on me and mine.
It sounds sad sometimes, but you know what?
That's okay.
Even though it's been a few years, I gotta realize the trauma I put my heart and mind through. And one day at a time, I question whether it's that I don't feel—or whether I've just learned not to.
Maybe what feels like coldness is actually caution.
Maybe what looks like isolation is the first time I've learned how to protect my peace.
Maybe being honest with myself means admitting that I can desire love without being ready to receive it.
And maybe I don't need to force myself to become ready just because enough time has passed.
That's my current reality.
It doesn't have to be my permanent one.
Anyways, goodnight.
— Killa
