Friday, October 26, 2012

To Him,

I could talk about a lot of bullshit, but right now, I won't.

When you look at the overall meaning of life, these things really are irrelevant and insipid.

If there's any advice that I can give to you lovers and dreamers out there, I would say this:

Love, and let live.

If you have ever been in love with someone, or loved someone, you know it's a beautiful thing.

It's a beautiful feeling, beautiful vibration, it's brightening and awakening; an ecstasy of sorts.

But if that person ever hurts you, let them live.

Don't chase them, don't stalk them, don't worry about them, throw their ass straight out the window, and DGAF.

Because one thing I know about people, is that once they make one mistake, they are bound to make it again. Not that every person will, but some people may, especially if they did not learn from their past actions. Simple.

So I would say that if a person that you love, hurts you, let live.

I learned from experience from my first boyfriend. And I learned a lot. I won't deny the fact that I was ignorant to the subject of boys and love, because I was ignorant Af.

But peep game, and learn from my story.

In short, I met my first boyfriend Daven in May 2011. I met him because we lived within vicinity of each other. One day, he told me I was very beautiful, the first words he ever said to me. Another day, he was talking to me, and he called me "sweetie" or something like that, and I immediately corrected him, and told him that my name is Ailena. Then he was discouraged or butthurt by that, since I can be very rude, and stopped talking to me. So a few days later, I decided to talk to him, and that's how it all started.

Anyway, three months go by, and shit hits the fan. Between that time, he had some how convinced me to be his girlfriend, I wasn't comfortable with the term because I had never been there; and had somehow convinced me that he loved me, and that I loved him. And he had also got me pregnant.

So at the three month point of our relationship, I was 2 months pregnant, he had left me and went to the Bay Area, and I still loved him regardless of the fact that he had left me.

He did not know I was pregnant, but claims that he knew, even before I knew, because he had a feeling. But when I got tested, it proved to be true, and he was already gone.

He wanted to keep the baby, but I had no doubts about what I was going to do; well, for the most part anyway. And that's when I consulted with Tundae; and in the same day, I coincidentally saw Him, we were by Cali's Finest, since that was me and Tun's favorite shop at the time. Then, me and Tun smoked up, and we talked, and he only reassured me that it was an okay thing to do.
But let me tell you, it wasn't.

I did the procedure and left for San Francisco within the next 2-3 weeks. When I got to San Francisco, Daven came to stay with me for 3 days before he disappeared, and "went to jail". What he was really doing is irrelevant now, and I know he was not in jail. But at the time, I was so hurt, and I stuck by his side and every little lie.

And for the next three months, I never saw him. I cried about what I had did, then and for months later. And the fact that I could feel my baby's soul hover around me, made me regret what I had done with every ounce of my being.

Then 3 months later, he appeared with his "sisters" a lesbian couple he had known since middle school, and who he was basically on the run with. At this time, he still lied to me, physically hurt me, by choking me and pushing me onto the ground, and come to find out, he got another girl pregnant. But no, silly me, I still loved him and forgave him. -_-

Then I decided to move us to Sacramento since they could not stay in San Francisco. I put the deposit and first months rent on an apartment, I bought us the necessities for the apartment, beds, food, toiletries, etc., and I even bought a car so that we could get around.

Everything seemed okay, but it wasn't. Come to find out, he had been tweeking, smoking crystal meth, when this dumb chick that gave us a ride offered, and had possibly been doing it before. This led to a lot of acts of unclarity from him, and anger.

Within a week of moving to Sac, we had broken up, and I was sleeping in the living room. But I still loved him.

Shit only got worse one day when I was talking on the phone to my friend, Natalie. We were talking about my situation, and she was like fuck him, I got another dude right here that wants you right now, blah blah blah, and then she put dude on the phone. And I said something like, oh, I like to go to the beach.... and Daven comes out and hangs up my conversation. He didn't want me to talk to other guys.

And this is the point where I should have known to just let him live, but I didn't I still loved him after all of this:

Within the next day or two, my blackberry took a flight across a street and over a telephone wire, and the screen didn't work and the phone was cracked open, but I figured out it still called. And he had physically hit me and battered me, and kicked me out of my house.

I didn't want to go, I had nowhere to go, and I was crying my eyes out, but I had no choice. I packed my stuff into my little car and left.
And even after this, I still loved him.

WTF, huh?

And for the next few days, I would sleep in my car at night, and go to Starbucks during the day and use my computer, and then drive back, past the house, and go sleep in my car down the street.
It was fine, but part of me still wanted to go back to him, and wondered was it really over?

It wasn't until one night, when I was sleeping alone in my car in the ghetto of Sacramento, that someone had come up to the car and tried to get in. The windows were all fogged up, so I couldn't see through them, but they tried the handle, and immediately, the beast in me came out, and this deep ass masculine voice came out of me and I said something like "WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?"

And after that night I was too scared to stay, and I know I needed to leave. I called the only person I knew who would answer, my mom, she sent me gas money, and I drove all the way back to LA the next day.

When I look back at that, I see that as a learning experience. I saw that what I had for him was not love, and that was a true trickery of an illusion. Although, he said the words, I know now that words mean very little. I should have seen through him, but young me, I was suckered into thinking things that were fairytale like. But when I look back at it, it was like falling, hitting my knee, and getting back up, because I got over him like nothing, and he never crosses my mind.

And it's funny because before all this even thought to transpire, I had a dream that showed me how things would happen in my life for what has proven now to be at least two years following that dream. And I specifically seen myself following a white skinned boy down a hill, I fell down, hit my knee, and when I looked up, he was gone. That was one of the events in the dream.

But overall, what I mean, is that if someone hurts you that you loved, thought to have loved, or even still love, FUCK IT. Let them live their life and move on.

That's the best thing you can do.

It sucks to be on the other side though.

I know that a guy who I can honestly say is the closest I have come to ever truly loving another human being outside of my family, let me live, when I hurt him.

Maybe, he never loved me in the first place?
Well, at least I loved him.

But I think I hurt him when the unthinkable happened. And when the unthinkable happened, it was not my fault, but I assumed responsibility for it.

And how he found out, I'll never truly know. I never tried to hide it though, I'm an honest person. But I knew he had known months later, when our friend Matt said that he knew what happened because either him or his dreadlocked jackal look alike friend told him about it, I knew he knew.

I never meant to hurt him, but at least he let me live.

Otherwise, I probably wouldn't be where I am today. And I'm extremely proud of who I am and where I am today. Even if I literally been through hell and back since then.... Wouldn't take nothing from my journey now...

So even if it is me, and I'm the person you loved, still love, or thought to have loved, say fuck you, call me/that person whatever names and titles you need to throw at them to help yourself cope, and once you move on, don't tum back. There ain't no second chances hoe Lol

Because they're bound to do it again.

*Oops I did it again, I played with you heart*

Don't say I didn't tell you so

and press forward lil bro, Didn't I say I seen you make it?

Love You Long Time,

Ailena :-*

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