Standards

I don’t hold others to the same – low – standard that I hold myself to. Is it strange, to think of myself as a mother, and being utterly disappointed to have a daughter do some things I did? I was 14 when I lost my virginity to E1. Which was bad enough, especially looking back and regretting it. I never wanted to, I never thought of it or planned it, but I was in a very sexual situation that – by keeping my mouth shut and not saying no – simply led to it. What I hate the most is where, I mean.. I was outside. At the very end of November. I live in Massachusetts, it’s really cold. And I was standing up against a brick apartment building under the deck of an apartment on the second floor. How romantic. Worst of all, he was 19. It’s not a big age difference. But oh my gosh thinking of this objectively makes me think that he was a creep. Which I know he wasn’t, I mean.. This was age 14, we didn’t break up (for the final time) until age 16. And the lack of consistent sex makes me think that wasn’t the only reason he was with me – or at least I hope so. Giggles. But anyways. I didn’t have sex with anyone else until more than a year later, when we broke up the first time. This was E2 … Stupid. I thought of E1 the whole time, I was still (unknowingly) in love with him. But whatever. I dated him for a tad, wanting to get back with E1, and unknowingly competing with JTS – who had finally “lost” her virginity to a 30 year old guy and managed to have sex with him and his nephew the same day, earning the nickname from my angry self back then. But after we got together and broke up again a couple more times, I hooked up with a guy I talked to for awhile before me and E1 got together – once and done. After all this, seeing the strange recurring pattern of never actually enjoying sex with guys, and 2 failed attempts with my – now – best friend, I decided to just stop. But despite a nice discovery and loving someone I could never truly be with, I would wish nothing but something different for a little girl that – I can never know if – ill have to love and hold.

For my daughter,
I will never know you, because I write to a ghost that I’ve conceived in my mind. I will never hold you or touch you, because you are not who I think you are. And I will never feel you flutter and move against my most intimate innards, stretching through the darkness of my womb. Because I will never carry you inside of me. But I love you, I want nothing but good for you. You are everything that’s good, you are beauty and sunshine and kittens and childish giggles. I hope your innocence last through to ages that extend past my own. I hope you hold this love to your chest and let it warm your bones when the cold of Earth seeps in and makes you feel all alone. Never forget. Always remember.

16 thoughts on “Standards

  1. I love reading your work, it always feel so real. Don’t be so hard on yourself, we all have things we wish we had not of done in our teenage years. I still make mistakes I wish I had not have, it feels good to know that people can understand through words. I’m sure you will be a beautiful mother…even a beautiful diaster can have beautiful children, beautiful poetry, beautiful thoughts, and most importantly a beautiful life that is not tainted by mistakes…just made more colorful. I look forward to reading more…

    1. That may have been one of the sweetest things I’ve ever read, thank you very much🙂 as for every thing you said I could be.. Amen and amen haha

      1. What I hope you remember is that anytime you put beautiful next to anything. You know people ignore everything else. They focus only on what is beautiful. Even with people…think about it. Your work is beautiful, I am glad I saw it. You have a beautiful struggle, thanks for sharing…

      2. There are those things like the rape, oppression, murder, slavery, genocide and torture of innocence that most people would not categorize as beautiful. So beauty can be contextual, which is why we say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But without these things beauty cannot be judged, nor can beauty be realized.

        In other words, sometimes sometimes has to die, may it be a chicken or apple. Be for the butcher and baker can prepare the beautiful meal. Like sausages beauty is an end product, of something far more sinister. I hope this make sense without seeming insensitive to the plight of object that is having the struggle. Beatiful struggle meaning the Valentines Day Dinner made by the lovestruck fiance was the beautiful struggle, not choking the duck…you know what I mean.

        Beautiful struggle is what I stole from Talib Kweli…Please check out the song! LOL he is better at explaining. I don’t believe any pain you went through was awesome, I am only looking at what I see. You are beautiful…and so are your words. I’m sorry if some of them come from pain.

        Lol I know this is long winded, but there is a way of saying, “dam baby you fine”; and coming off like an air head. I try to keep things short, but I wanted to clarify my original compliment without seeming like an airhead.

      3. I got it. In my sentence beatiful is not describing the struggle. Beatiful owns struggle. Struggle is the process of beauty. LOL! I will quit while I’m ahead. I get flusterd by beauty. I like your work. LOL

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