Getting My Shit Back

My mother absolutely hates it when I go in her closet and steal her shoes. She lets me know that her shoes are for her and she wants them back. In my defense I believe I am the creator of the fashion forward woman she is today and I think the least she should do is share what I have introduced her too …fabulous shoes. Once I’ve returned her Christian Louboutins the air is clear and we’re back to the loving mother, daughter relationship. As a single woman I think about the men I’ve encountered in my life and how a few of them I have blamed for taking some things from me that I want back. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could just walk up to an old ex boyfriends door, ring the door bell and demand for our shit back. I sure wish I could. If I could, I would walk right up to their front door with a box, labeled My Shit. When the door opened I would politely walk in (not waiting for an invitation) and say this:

Hey, how are you? You look good. Listen I don’t want to bother you but it seems to me that you took some stuff that belongs to me and I want it back. You have my heart and simply did absolutely nothing with it but break it and now there’s whole in my chest. I didn’t realize it was missing until I met a really great guy I was unable to love. You also have self-esteem and self- confidence. I noticed it was missing when I looked in the mirror and saw a lifeless look in my eyes. Smoky eyes are in for the fall season; unfortunately I look more like I’m smoked out (Halloween is over and I can’t keep scaring myself). If you don’t mind I would like my canvas back too. Oh yes, you know that thing you use to poke me with, don’t get me wrong the strokes were great but we both know you’re no longer worthy of beating my back in anymore. Oh no I’m not bitter, just ready to move on with my life and stop wishing for you too actually change, see me for the great woman I am, and love me. With a big smile I would end: I’m sure you’re busy with your next victim so if you’d just place everything I came for in this box (labeled my shit) I’ll be on my way. Thanks so much.

The sad thing is I’m sure he’ll call the police and put in for a restraining order because he has no earthly idea what I’m talking about. As far as he’s concerned he didn’t break my heart or take my self-esteem/self confidence. He was just having a good time. Who knew his heatless acts would lead to the death of a beautiful woman. He was only doing whatever it took to color as much as he could with a woman he thought was kind of cute. Therefore I’d leave like I came over… with an empty box and probably in hand cuffs (lol)

My mother’s shoes are easily given back to her from me. My stuff however hasn’t been easily given back to me simply because I’ve been looking in the wrong place. All this time I’m thinking he (them, they) had my stuff. I’ve been blaming him (them, they) for not moving on. My broken heart, the heart breaker isn’t responsible for mending the pieces back together. My self –esteem self-confidence wasn’t taken from me. I surrendered it at the mercy of fear of being alone. As far as my canvas it’s still there, but every time I look at it, it reminds of how I felt when the good times were over (like a jump-off). He, them, they don’t have my stuff to give back to me. My stuff is still with me. The only thing he, (them, they) did was shit all over it. The only cure for a shitty life is to take a shower. No sense of smelling like my dreadful past, it will only make living day to day stink.

To friend that is blaming him, (them, they) on taking your stuff, news flash they aint got it. You and I got our stuff with us. We just got to stop wishing the smell would go away without washing it way. So get in the shower and lather up. Close your eyes take a deep breath in and exhale out. As the water starts to run down the painful parts of what’s hard to forget, think about how it’s finally over and a new life for you and I is starting to smell refreshing. Nothing changes over night but with one wash at time the true beauty of you and I will be restored.

Till Next Time
Simply Lola