Diary Entry 1: Leen

The last couple of days have been a doozy. Confusion. Anger. Betrayal. All of the things I've felt many times before. Being who I am and experiencing the life I've had, these are familiar emotions.

One minute I want to cry. The next I want to throw things at my wall and scream.

Such is the life of many people like me. Abandoned by their birth fathers, watched their single mother try to make ends meat while balancing being a caretaker and student.

This was my first betrayal.

A father that did not want me. And when he did see me, he spent most of the time pining over the very woman who did not want him anymore. I was a constant reminder to him that she never wanted to be with him again, and I think he hated it. See, he was used to women throwing themselves at him. Even from the enclosed doors of his prison cell, he had 3 baby mothers all vying for the little freedom he had. Two stuck around. One, my mom, moved on. I think that stuck with him. Late summer nights when I spent my little weekend with him, after his release of course, was filled with tales of his sexual escapades. How much of a player he was. I thought he was so cool at the time. Someone I wanted to be and mimic. Suave. Debonair. An air of unshakeable confidence.

Then I met you. My second betrayal. And the muse who stole my song.

You weren't even mine from the start. Dating my middle school best friend, we latched on quickly. Became the best of friends in no time as we sat on the phone in the late hours of the night talking about whatever was on our minds while my homie fell asleep. It was innocent. No betrayal. No feelings. Just us and our unfiltered adolescent thoughts. Who would of thought we'd click like that?

You and him broke up and what became a friendship blossomed into something more. Natural. Unforced. I didn't do anything remotely romantic, but one day you were just single and we grabbed each other's hands while I walked you to class. Our interlaced fingers fit so well. A key finding the right lock. The right pitch to the perfect song. I'd spend hours on the phone with you after that. Start and end my day at school with you. I can still smell the shampoo you used in your hair. The warmth of your body against mine. The weight of you on my legs.

Pride got the best of me. As what happens to all men who think they know the world. My first betrayal influenced me heavy during this time and I had visions of women who weren't you. While you continued to be the woman I wanted, I let the dummy in me think differently. My homie called me "whipped" and I just couldn't have it. He offered me a video game to not talk to you for a week and I took the bet. When you approached me about it, sad that I mysteriously had gone distant, I caved and told you. I can still see the hurt on your face.

I gave up something special for a disc I never received.

What I know now is at that moment, I was no longer an option for you. The hand holding stopped. The physical touch, the conversations all went away. When I finally had the nerve to ask you out, you said no (smart woman) and it hurt. But I never stopped chasing and you never stopped dangling the carrot.

From there we went from peaks and valleys until finally we were no longer friends as adults. I still remember the last time I saw you. I was walking to class at university and you were walking out of the building I was approaching. We stared at each other, not saying a word, and let our history be nothing but water under the bridge.

But I have good memories too. You full sprinting into my arms after seeing me on the side of the road for a car wash fundraiser. The woman of my dreams back in my embrace. Or when we went to go see The Dark Knight Rises. Our first and only date.

I'll never forgive myself for letting you walk up those stairs alone that night. I'll never forgive myself for being a coward and not telling you how I felt sooner.

But I have to move on. You have. Happily married. Even though it's been a decade since we've ever meant anything to each other, I still cried. That's how highly I still think of you.

I can't move on to this new part of my life and still feel shackled by something I did. I need to take back my song. I need to evict you from the permanent residence you have in my head.

I will always love you. I don't think that's going anywhere. But it's time I finally write this. The entry to the diary of my soul I've hesitated to write a billion times before tonight.

A rose will always smell sweet, but is picking one up worth the prick of the thorn every time you see it?

We had our time. And I appreciate every moment of it.

But I have to let go. The rest of my life dictates I do so.