In two hours of time, I provided a relatively succinct explanation to the reoccurring, reminiscent thoughts that have dictated my life for the past 1.5 years. A switch. A shift. A shit. And it all began with . . .

One day my friend, LL, texted me to meet up with her because she went through a two-day period of what she claims was “an emotional roller coaster.” A hyperbole much? She is (was) with a Law Student, whom she says “treats her very well [financially and domestically],” yet there have been multiple, if not consistent, times where she would say that he demeans her, insults her, and views her as inferior. Their decision to stay together stems from an awkward dynamic, which still makes me shutter. The blunt fact is that she has absolutely no affection, no love, and at minimal, baseline lust for this kid. She is merely with him out of conveniency, out of fear to meet other potentials near the end of our undergraduate career; he is precisely a safety net at the moment. I am adamant she will leave him once he is not longer of use to her in the appropriate time and place. Fortunately, her feelings are mutually reciprocated by this future lawyer. They are in an open, dating relationship.

Recently, due to excessive intake of pharmaceutical substances that affected her hormonal levels, she snooped on him. Yes, she got ahold of his phone and computer passwords and looked through every single outlet of leaking information that she laid her eyes on. Some of these channels led her to find out about his past ex and how he deliberately took himself off a pedestal of royal hierarchy to convince this woman he loved her. LL has always described him as a stern, rational, and argumentative type A that refuses to discuss about his sensitive side, those involving feelings and deeper emotions. And after a peek at his history, she can see how this particular experience transformed him that way. At the end, LL told me she felt more empowered, and that she aged years. The private information she got, allowed her to believe she could somehow be more internally manipulative to obtain domination in their personal interactions. But does that really interest me? Not really. So what does?

I thought she was wasting her time and I continually think the same. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t care to spent countless hours to find out about someone’s past who not only do I not see as a significant other, but also is someone I lack of future with. After exposing all her devious trades, we made further progress and conversed about once upon a time being in not-so-ideal relationships jointly.

LL is currently one of the only people that understands the works of my mind. She has been there since day one when I met Ferguson and she has not ceased to hear about how my life has done a 180 because of him. A change in how I think, how I convey myself, and how my persona has altered since Ferguson and I “broke up” was always apparent to me before, but it has not been expressed in a solemn manner. When LL talked to me about her stream of dramatic epiphanies, it finally hit me.

Frequently, I’ve noticed that people with varying degrees of separation have mentioned slightly mocking remarks to me. For example, they told me I’ve developed a syndrome of RBF (Resting Bitch Face), which honestly, to be fair, I do do it ever so purposefully on occasions. However, the comments that disturb me, are “dark,” “negative,” “sad,” and “cynical.” Do these adjectives sound remotely familiar of anyone? LL confirmed them.

To say the least, LL and I have collectively agreed that Ferguson stole my personality, my Happy-Go-Lucky default. Who was I, if not the majority of the time a bright, bubbly, and joyful burst of sunshine, showering positivity to all those around me? Ferguson, would concur, but now, I think I would give him a run for his money. Though I could never see him fully adapting my old identity, I certainly didn’t think through my decays he would pick some up too. He is not the man I once knew, not in familiarity or closeness. Whether I call it intuition, or he calls it sensing, there is more of a shadow of me that follows him than he would like to admit. My last encounter with him was amazingly smooth. I can’t recall any point where I thought our conversation was lacking in substance, in meaning, or in flow. Perhaps, we simply had too much to catch up on after our departure and going to Guatemala for the both us solidified more of a connection. Perceptive, I always was, and will continually be. I wrote about this in a preceding post and I think I already knew, or always knew. But now, I am confident he is more of me than he is of himself since we departed. He casts it in his writing, with his aura, through his smile.

Our exchange of letters, of ideas, of beliefs, of knowledge, of language, of bodies, of affection, of understanding, was all real. It has never been more real and I’m relieved that I had the opportunity to give you Happy-Go-Lucky before she went away.


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