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If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that I felt a spark.

If it wasn’t so early , I’d tell you I felt a connection.

If it wasn’t so early. I’d tell you that I want to talk more.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that I love your voice.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d say that you’ve ignited a fire inside of me.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you the way your energy turns me on.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d reconsider the where I want to move.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you I hate that you take for ever to text back.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you that your smile is on constant replay in my mind.

If it wasn’t so early, I’d tell you I miss our deep conversations.

My ego wants to believe you began to pull back because you were afraid of what this might be. That it’s easier to let go than to be vulnerable.

But reality may be that my feelings were one sided.

The reality may be you may have someone already.

The reality may be, we weren’t meant to be.

The reality is I don’t even know much about you.

But I’d be lying if I say you didn’t stir something up inside of me.

Your confidence pulled me in.

But your responsiveness repelled me out.

Your depth consumed me.

But your distance released me.

Journal Entry #14

So I met another guy.

He’s sweet, intelligent, and his goals align with mine. He has spiritual depth, which is a rare occurrence I’m noticing. He’s a bit older than I am — not my usual type as far as looks go, but his personality and the way he thinks are attractive.

I knew he was attracted to me and had a little crush, but I paid him no mind. That is, until one day when we were both on break — coincidentally, at the same time. He struck up a conversation, which took me by surprise. I was genuinely interested and impressed with how closely his ideals aligned with mine. I didn’t go too deep — it was our first real conversation — but it kept me thinking for the last couple of days: could this be something?

He texts me to make sure I get home safe. He texts me in the morning. But when I text back, it takes him hours to respond. And that’s growing old quickly.

There’s none of the depth that initially caught my attention in person. His texts feel surface-level — like he doesn’t know what to say. I can start a conversation, but if a person isn’t reciprocating or engaging, then it’s going to die fast. I won’t exert more of my energy to make up for anyone else’s lack of effort.

The texts are flirty, which I liked at first. Something cute like “hey you,” which earned him some points — but now it’s getting repetitive. The conversations aren’t going anywhere, and I’m starting to lose interest.

He’s playful, I’ve noticed. Yesterday I ordered food and he was the one making it. When I came to pick it up, he was acting like I was too slow to get it — which I know is childlike and might seem lame to some, but to me, it was cute. If I’m interested in the person.

I also had a moment of déjà vu the first time he texted me. That initially sparked even more curiosity.

There’s a book I read once — Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian L. Weiss — that explains a theory about déjà vu I found fascinating. A little backstory on the book, A psychiatrist had a patient who suffered from severe anxiety and depression. When none of the usual treatments worked, he turned to hypnotherapy.

Under hypnosis, the woman began to speak as though she had lived dozens of lives before — 87, to be exact. In each life, this same psychiatrist was present in a different form, always playing the role of a teacher or guide. She claimed they were bound by something beyond this life — that their souls had crossed paths many times before.

She described purgatory not as a place of punishment, but as a pause — a waiting room between lives where souls choose the moments they want to carry forward. Moments that might help them find their destiny again if they were cut short the last time. That sense of déjà vu, she said, came from remembering one of those chosen moments.

Even if you don’t take the story literally, it opens your mind to the idea that maybe… just maybe… some people walk into our lives not for the first time — but for another try.

That’s what I felt when he texted me. A strange familiarity. A flicker of memory without a source. It made me wonder: Are our essences tied to something deeper? Is he part of my story in a way I can’t yet see?

But… if he’s not putting in the effort, then I guess I’ve got my answer about his role in my life.

Maybe he’s nervous.

Maybe he’s intimidated.

But here’s what I know for sure:

I will not stop my journey to wait and look back for someone who is unsure and afraid.

Decisions decisions…

I’m torn. My brother is graduating tomorrow—yayyy, but I have a class. I’ve been waiting a week to talk to this teacher about my grade on a test. It’s stressing me out because I know I did better than the grade I was given. And there’s been nothing more pressing on my mind.

I know it should be a no-brainer, he’s my family I should be there for him. He, for the most part, has always been there for me. There may have been petty instances where I felt like he wasn’t but he kind of always is. My siblings and I were all we had growing up.

I want them to know that I’m their rock, their cheerleader, someone they can always count on. But I also want nothing more than to get straight A’s this semester. I want to be the best. I don’t want to be “just another student”, I want to be valedictorian.

I have high hopes and dreams. I want to set an example for all of my siblings and be there for support in all of their journeys. I want to do it all.

I feel a pull to put myself first. My family would. So why is this such a hard decision for me to make?

What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t go? Would they look at me with hurt expressions? Would they be indifferent? Would they understand? Or would they feel unloved?

But tell me a time the best has put anyone else before themselves? Especially for siblings who are disrespectful and don’t value the time you try to spend with them outside of formal events.

The ambitious side of me has taken over, and while I do feel undervalued by them, I get it. I’m the oldest, so I can’t complain. I’ve been a teenager before and was raised by the same individuals they were. They have the right to be selfish, but why can’t I be?

I don’t know exactly what college I want to go to after I graduate from VCC. I slacked around a lot during my first few years of school. I went to a major university (out of state) ended up in a crazy amount of debt came back to my home state slacked off more, took time off and reenrolled again. Coming in at a 1.4 GPA. And yet my dream is to attend an ivy league school. Not because people will know I’m the best, but I’ll know I’m the best. There’s no room to slack off now.

If chasing your dream meant disappointing your family, would you still do it?

Silence Isn’t Weakness — It’s Strategy

Let me talk about these two girls real quick. Yes, both of them have made appearances on my blog before, and yes — they’re back again because apparently, they don’t learn. And trust me, I’m trying to keep it respectful, but these girls be trying it. And I really mean trying it.

Girl #1.

She had the audacity to hit my phone going off about a blog post like I was supposed to be scared of her. As if I wouldn’t rock her sh—anyway. I let that situation slide. Never even got an apology, but I’m not the type to hold hate in my heart. I thought we were cool. Cordial, at least. Especially since we share someone we both care about — someone who wouldn’t want to see us fighting.

She came to my birthday. We were cool. But I realized real quick — she’s one of those people who takes more than she gives. I wish my dog could see that. He’s a good man. Solid. He does everything he can for her, and it’s never enough. She’s ungrateful. A social media groupie who thinks she’s Latto, Megan, and Nicki rolled into one, with zero talent to back it up. Just a chicken head clucking on the timeline.

She said getting my dog a pinky ring for his birthday was “too much” and got him a PS4 controller instead. But when it’s her birthday? Valentine’s Day? Christmas? She expects the world. Cluck cluck cluck, that’s all she really knows how to do.

But it gets worse. She put her hands on my dog. Yeah, you heard that right. On a man who doesn’t deserve that. A good man. And the crazy part? When she got called out on it, she laughed. Like it was a joke.

I wasn’t there, but I saw the video. And I swear, the revenge fantasies I had? Jail-worthy. But I have too much to lose. And I know God’s going to handle what I can’t. Because if the roles were reversed, and he laid a hand on her, he’d be in jail.

And all this? Over a missed text? Girl, are you okay?

She blew up because he didn’t respond fast enough while he was with his day ones. Next day, he’s scrambling to make things right with her. And I’m over here like — I can’t even defend him if this is what he keeps running back to.

She doesn’t love him. She wants to own him. She confuses control with closeness. And I hate that I’ve been dragged into it. But I’ve been forced in — intentionally and unintentionally. So now I’m watching his choices in women create problems for me. And it’s tiring.

Now on to girl #2.

I work with this one — thankfully, not for much longer. Not because I can’t handle her, but because she can’t handle me.

We got called into work early one morning. I had just finished a shift at midnight and had to be back by 8. I’m walking up, tired, annoyed, and she’s standing at the door holding it open for everyone… until she sees me. And lets it close.

Like, girl — are you blind? Or just stupid?

She’s lucky I didn’t kick that door down with her walrus-built body standing behind it. But another coworker saw and let me in. I greeted her and walked right past Miss Flipper like she didn’t exist.

Later, during the meeting, I hear her gossiping about me to the same girl who let me in. And of course, the story’s one-sided. But I’m not one to go backwards. I had moved on — or at least I tried to.

Still, I won’t lie: I wanted to stand up and snap. Slap her across the mouth on some Will Smith time and tell her to, “keep my f-ing name out of your mouth” But again — I’ve got too much to lose. I can accomplish way more using my mind than I ever could with my fists.

Here’s the thing:

I’m not mean. But people are pushing me. Testing me. And just because I care — about loyalty, about love, about doing right — doesn’t mean I won’t call it how I see it. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’ve got empathy and emotional intelligence — and that’s exactly why I choose silence over scenes, peace over pettiness, and growth over gossip.

I don’t need to get in anyone’s face. I don’t need to throw punches. Because writing is my punch. But just because I’m empathetic doesn’t mean I’m soft. Just because I think things through doesn’t mean I won’t call you out.

I’m not here to make everyone feel good.

I’m here to speak the truth.

“The Silence That Answered Me”

I was half expecting to see him tonight, but he never showed.

He told me he worked today. I told him I worked too.

But there was no sight of him. Not even a text.

I know it’s a little soon to be checking my phone, waiting, hoping.

He doesn’t owe me anything—

Still, I kept watching the door like he might walk through it.

Waiting for a message saying he was coming to see me.

It never came.

I glanced toward the corner every few minutes,

Almost broke my neck trying to see if it was him outside the door.

But he never came.

Maybe he meant it when he said he couldn’t talk to me because of his friends.

Maybe he never liked me at all,

And I just made up stories in my head.

Maybe he called off.

Maybe he was with the girl he’s been talking to.

So many maybes.

Not a great beginning—

For something that never got the chance to start.