Reflecting Everyone has a story to tell. For some of us reflecting on what was is a lot harder to do than we thought.

"Eighteen years of imprisonment, eighteen years of slowly killing myself, hurting myself...insecurities. Sex became a void filled with negativity. No breathless satisfaction only breathless regret. I look at this list, tears build up. An overwhelming emotional guilt trip begins, the tears fall. I am without hope, without love. Hope and love has been replaced by pain and sadness. I'm a wrecking ball, breaking down the walls around me."

Yeah so this is the ish I came up with when reflecting on my dating life...sucks right? Way to depressing...seems like on the outside it is so easy for me to laugh about the craziness of the men I have run into. The situations I've encountered. My journey, though a great learning experience, I have yet to actually learn from any of it. Sad but true. I was trying to see the humor side of things but I have fallen short. I have no passion to write about myself...my love life and or lack there of and or dating life and again, lack there of. It's really too damn depressing to write about. I wouldn't know where to start to make it appealing enough to be more than a drag per the everyday bullshit of a Black Woman dating with all of the crap I have been through. I realize my troubles stem from a much more deep rooted problem and that has always been the underlying cause of my failed relationships. I would rather not dredge up that part of my life. So where and or how do I begin?

To begin the process of learning who I am, finding out where and how my life began to crumble, I decided to write up this list. A list consisting of past relationships, one night stands, friends with benefits etc. The list is really saddening. I mean here I am creating a list of sexual partners I've had in the last 18 years of my life and half of the list of names are nicknames and or descriptive words based on what I can recall about the guy I laid down with. As I write this list out I am literally cursing under my breath. Shaking my head and thinking, do I really want someone else to read this? Am I this comfortable with opening up my life for other people to judge me? The list of men I've been with only a few of them I would ever consider being in a relationship with. The others were one night stands and or friends with benefits.

As I am typing I begin reading the words in a Facebook message from a guy on my list. “So I do know you maybe not as well as I should. That's what makes you so beautiful to me though.” I only cringe at what I assume to be heartwarming words... considering he's now married. Sad but true and then I reply: “Maybe I'll find someone who will think of me that way. Someone that will matter in my life that is, or one day when I am older or hell in another life.

My lack of better judgement with men and my sexual lifestyle at no ones fault but my own has led me down a bitter and jaded path. I write this and sigh with sadness. Writing helps me breathe. I will find a reason to write. To end this madness so that I can begin.