top of page
RoseElephant copy.jpg


I got a random dm the other day asking how I was. It was from an old colleague of mine that I worked with straight out of college. When I figured out who it was the first thing I thought was, “Oh, it’s your triflin’ ass”.  

Long story short – and I’m sure it’s a story you’re all familiar with one way or another: He had a crush on me. We hung out a few times (platonic in my eyes). He got no play from me. “Ex” who I was acquaintances with caught on to what was happening. He manipulated the story. “Ex” played passive-aggressive with me until I put her on blast and called her out. Then, she tried to play dumb like she had no idea what I was talking about. 

This story ended about a decade ago, but it’s still one of many stories that I haven’t forgotten. I don’t hold grudges, I remember thingsBut most of all, I remember how people made me feel. This is a blessing and a curse, because I also remember the people who made me feel like I was worth waking up in the morning when I was convinced that I wasn’t enough. 

I remember the people who let me sleep on their couch just so I wouldn’t have to listen to the destructive thoughts in my head alone at night, just like I remember the people who put me there. I remember those who always replied to my texts even when they were tired of reading them just as much as I remember those who only texted when they wanted something.

Point blank, I remember every single person that was there for me during my darkest hours just as much as I remember those who I allowed to dim my light.  This is why I still make an attempt to keep in touch with people or text to see how they’re doing when it’s very apparent they feel indifferent about having me in their life. I’m like the kid in middle school vying for friends. It’s a little pathetic, but I remember. I remember what you’ve done for me even if you don’t do it anymore. 

This is also why my old co-worker will probably get a generic response from me – if one at all. It’s a little petty, but I remember. It’s not that it’s been bothering me all this time, I just don’t care to be bothered.

4 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Lonely, but Not Alone (Written 01.13.21)

Don't tell me not to feel lonely. You don't know what lonely is. I've spent many moons dancing by myself, and solo sunsets staring into my own eyes. Yet, I'm still here scratching and clawing and flou


bottom of page