2021 dating still sucks (Down the Rabbit hole)

I was happy. I was truly and deeply happy. The type of happy that has you flying to meet the parents for a burfday. The type of happy that has you giving out relationship advice (because you finally figured this shit out). You know the one, where you casually drop their name in conversation. Let them talk to yo momma on FaceTime and swap recipes. Brag about them to your friends, who like you, so they put up with that shit. I even stopped writing to you guys (my bad). But everyone knows genius is driven by misery. Don't believe me? Just look at Mary J. Bliges career. I rest my case. But I digress-- vacations were had, pillow-talks were said and yet, here we are. I didn't know this depth of pain is possible.

I'm talmbout HURT. The kind that will have you squeezing out a Denzel "Glory" thug tear right before work. In the crib, high, singing off key: "And I wish I never met her at all"or whatever Jay-Z said. The worst part is this endless loop of sadness I find myself in. When depressed you often turn to unhealthy comforts. When you just want to feel good like Halle Berry in Monster's Ball. A parade of girls-- is not exactly the type of hole filling you need. Meaningless sex only drives you further down the dark rabbit hole. The things you find on the way down is pretty scary too. Spelunking into your soul is spiritually spooky. You vow to never feel like this again, so you keep everyone at arms length, which only nourishes that old friend, depression. And we keep going in circles like Luther said. Discoveries about yourself are both enlightening and horrifying.

You find that there's really nothing that helps with the pain. This self medication is poisonous to the soul. No really, nothing helps. Working out is a temporary buzz, until you find out that her former roommate loves your gym. I'll save you from the recount of that awkward ass encounter. Weed is an ephemeral numbing agent. Once you sober up, your mind saunters back to her. Reading books, watching tv, going out, working are all just distractions that you perform with a mask on while fake smiling. Y'all know a nigga is the worst at faking it. So what the fuck do you do? Apparently you feel the pain. Or so I've been told. And also don't check their social media anymore. Or so I've been told. Don't text, send memes, call, smoke signal. None of that shit. Or so I... well he didn't say smoke signal-- but you get the point. And please don't look at your camera roll because thats just pure and utter torture. Yeah, that therapy money was clearly well spent.

Is it possible to be friends with an ex you truly care about? Is that even healthy? From what I've read there's mixed opinions on it. To what lengths do you go to not remind yourself of this person? Truth is, I'm thoroughly convinced that no one has the answers. Anyone that says anything to the contrary is LYING. We just know what works for us, and then try to transfer our findings to other peoples social experiments we've come to call relationships. My friend once told me that, "all relationships end in tragedy." She uttered the words and they've been buried within me since. I'm not sure it's a comfort, so much as a law of the universe. No different than newtons law of gravity. You don't have to agree with it, or like it, but if you jump off the roof of your building, the effects of that law hold true. The only thing I know is that you have to continue to move forward. No matter how much you just want to lay in bed with the covers over your head, until the world just fades away. The only real thing to do is to make a commitment to being as close to happy as possible, everyday. Smile until its real. Fake it till you make it baby! So I'm going to keep going, because as the LOX said, "fuck the frail shit... we gone make it." Right?

P.S. Its one year later and dating still sucks... and there's many more posts to come.