i always liked this beyonce song,
“save the hero”.
i think i mentioned that before.
the lyrics are a true testimony of my life.
you know the person who is always there for others,
acts like the super hero,
goes above and beyond to make sure they are okay,
keeps a great reputation,
but when the super hero goes home and takes their mask off…
who saves them?
i had someone who use to save me.
someone i felt comfortable to talk to and share myself with.
he has passed on and it has left me a complete mess.
my life is a fuckin mess.
do you still like me now?
i know people like living in a fantasy of others these days.
at least i have the balls to admit it.
a long piece ahead…
i was reading a comment from yesterday:
“when are you going to talk about your sex life and not someone else’s.”
it hurt me.
i use to have fun.
i was always meeting wolves.
i had so many wolves in my phone at one point.
some i would sleep with and others would never sniff my ass cheeks.
when i had a job tho,
oh i was on my bullshit.
shopping and living the single fox’s dream.
sadly that dream came without saving money in case of a rainy day.
when i lost my job and had to get on u-e,
i was put on a strict budget.
it threw me off a little,
and i was a lot of depressed,
but i still met wolves here and there.
i didn’t sleep with them off bat,
but it was fun to talk and enjoy the attention they provided.
i went to industry events when i could make them,
but i knew i couldn’t show off like they all were doing.
i wasn’t going to be “that cute broke guy who is frontin'”.
so star fox passed.
i went into hiding.
i had a mini emotional breakdown and didn’t want to leave the crib.
i didn’t want to see anyone.
i cut a lot of people out of my life.
many of those people didn’t hear my cries as i always heard theirs.
i especially didn’t want to hear what they bought or who they were dating.
see the problem with me is i learned to always appear strong to strangers.
i didn’t want them to see my weakness.
this is why they came to me when they had issues.
they built me up as this super hero.
they trusted me.
problem is that when i felt hurt and wanted to share my own problems,
it would either get ignored or people had question marks.
i decided to share my drama on this platform.
i mean where else can i do it?
i like talking about sex and men like the next,
but a nigga has been having some issues he just can’t ignore.
if you can’t handle those issues then you can’t handle me.
my thing is if you can’t deal with me at my lowest,
you damn sure won’t be around me at my highest.
recently i decided to go back to church.
i thought starting there would help me sort my issues out.
as much as i pray,
god still has me feeling like i’m the enemy.
“where are you?” i’d shout.
“you having all these assholes out here eatin’ good,
but the one who actually acknowledges you,
you treat like pure shit.”
i’m almost tired of asking and fighting now.
so when my vixen friend hit me up this morning and said she was in therapy,
it kind of shocked me.
here is the girl that always appears to be strong when we speak.
she moved away from the city years ago with her son,
her life is together,
she is in college for her bachelors,
and she is super smart.
she needs therapy?
i guess she is my super hero that needs to take her mask off.
i want to live the life i use to have.
i miss it.
i’m not happy or satisfied.
it actually depresses me how low i have gotten.
when star fox died,
it seemed to enhance things more.
is this grief?
or two blocks near crazy?
i’m broken and in a million pieces that maybe i do need to see someone.
i need helping finding myself and a direction again.
when i found out the same beyonce,
the one everyone calls “king” use to have a therapist,
it made me see that everyone needs to take their mask off once in a while.
i’m evelyn lozada this season of bbw.
well shit ima be a ugly cry snotty mess on this site then.
i’m paying for it.