real real late.

Being single when you weren’t (on again off again) for quite a few months is extremely awkward.

It’s not so much how drastically things change (although that sucks too). It’s more of the readjusting to the sort of tail-spin it puts you in. Before I go further , lemme say this: I didn’t get dumped. I ended it. Which kind of opens up a different set of feelings and circumstances which go from guilt , to melancholy , to anger until youre at peace with everything.

What’s been the worst part for me is that “washed out” feeling that splitting leaves you with. It kinda lingers. It’s not even that youre “sad”.We broke up in October ; I felt this way mid November. You just feel kind of “meh” towards a lot of shit. That kind of dismissive feeling towards things then in turn makes you question if you really like anything around you. I’m talking friends…books….games…things that bring you pleasure. Taking away something that somewhat kept you fueled forces you to look at yourself and your environment in a much more honest way.

It’s also kind of weird with women too. There’s the ones who dug me when I was involved and I either A) knew and didn’t entertain it nor did I care or B) I had no idea. The thing is I’ve always prided myself on giving you what you deserve as it comes to truth and facts. If they said “You dont talk to me anymore…” I very clearly said why that was.It’s not like I particularly ran back to ’em after being single either. I had no desire to do so (and my desire for such is up and down as we speak.). For the girls who I just “didn’t know” , it is what it is. Seeing eyebrows raise when I say “yeah that situation is over” then literally seeing the Thirstometer raise doesn’t really warm my soul. I’m not telling you to “up my stock” per se; I’m telling you cause it goes in the flow of the conversation.

As I kinda stumble through this point in life (right on time for me to feel weird and uncomfortable…I’m 25 on Feb 14th aka a lil over 2 weeks from now) , I’ve found myself cutting a lot of stuff out. I stopped eating so much bullshit ( I ate pizza like a Ninja turtle….its been weeks), don’t hang out with people I don’t like , don’t talk to people who bring me stress and idiocy etc. Reading and relaxing more. Looking for a new job…all of that.I think the key to me feeling more “stable” is whittling life down to things that matter and freeing myself of things that don’t. I’ve also been “praying” but not in the typical sense (Robby’s religious views= a whole other post). I also no longer entertain passive aggression. Before all of this , I was very much an “on the fence” guy. Since, I’m very clear on my desires and what point I wanna put forth. Not in this post though. I’m all over the place. Ugh.

Shit is weird right now. But bare with me. Just trying to take my time and feel everything out. I’d like to believe things are coming together on all fronts. As long as I continue to be mindful of who I am and what it is I want from life.

Royalty.

Halloween weekend.

I’m back in Queens. Walking an assload of blocks home on a frigid night. The bus at that hour (its about 3 am) stops NOWHERE near where I need to be. So I hopped off in LI….and voyaged my drunk ass back into Queens.

Now mind you. I’m FINISHED. I barely had the presence of mind to stop at the local 7-11 and get a huge bottle of water for my now drunk and defeated body (it was a great night though). So I’m stumbling in the dark…by myself…down Merrick in the relatively unsafe manner in which is how I usually live life.

Somewhere along the way I have a bright idea.

“I’m hungry. Let me eat some bum ass Crown Fried chicken.”

I never eat Crown. Ever. Had it once in my entire life….thanks to a woman named Lorna who I just affectionately called “gramma Lorna” in a more innocent , younger , and totally sober time.

Grandma was tough as nails. Rude , even. But she loved me in such a pure way. She had this way of telling you things you needed to hear in the most disrespectful way she could. Wasn’t that she didnt love you ; she just knew this was the only way she’d get through to you immediately. It always worked. I always listened , even when I didnt understand.

If I may be transparent , let me tell you about my upbringing. I am a silver spoon kid. Middle class black parents. Got everything I needed and 95 percent of what I wanted. That other 5% was shit I got myself eventually. Family life was spotless.

My grandma?? Flew here from Trinidad. Lived in Brooklyn. Worked at the post office. Raised my mom and my aunt by herself (split with my also dearly missed grandfather , Papa). She’s done it all. She struggled at some point. Her role in my mind was to help keep me grounded and remind me that everyone didn’t have it like me.

So yes , one day she took me and my sister to Crown Fried. In Flatbush. My fake uppity ass saw that chicken and fries and cringed. I was dreading having to eat this “hood” shit. I ate it. Thought it was average at best. Didn’t matter : any food Grandma put in front of me…I’m at least gonna give it a shot out of love and respect alone.

Now here I am , 24 years old. 15 years later or so. Tears welling up in my eyes at almost 330 am as I pull open a Crown Fried door and order through that familiar bulletproof glass. Waited for my food. Got it relatively quickly. Got the hell outta there and noticed I was sobering up quickly. The cold and memories of a loved one will do that to ya.

I’d like to say I was moved by something so random and almost “silly” because of the alcohol. Probably not. I won’t make the tired cliche “I just hope she’s proud of me” because thats not really how I think. She was proud of me when she passed and I wasnt even out of HS by then. My main concern that night was , I hope she knows I owe her so much. On top of that , I was happy she came to mind.

My grandma embodies my current demeanor. I’m friendlier than she ever was. She was only nice to family….no one else. But she was laid back. Say something crazy , prove her point , then sip her grapefruit juice and keep watching Montell. She was always the definition of cool to me. My grandma was beautiful. She knew it…she believed it…she wore that proudly. I always admired how she didn’t care what anyone thought; as long as her family was straight she was satisfied. I reach more every day to live life in such a minimalist way. I want to keep improving on my happiness and make sure my family and friends are in that same space. Everything else will fill in as it should.

That night , I got into my bedroom , bodied that greasy ass chicken , drank that Pepsi thats eventually gonna kill me if I don’t stop (but it hasnt ruined my skin….I’m still looking and feeling like this guy) and slept soundly. Knowing that……I ate that damn chicken and stopped complaining. Just like she would’ve liked.