Good afternoon, friends

I love that I've been journaling a lot lately. I used to all of the time. I literally would carry a backpack with me everywhere I went that held my gratitude journal, my journal where I wrote letters to my son, the journal I would jot my daily events in and other notes.

I stopped keeping journals regularly many years ago when I went to New York for a poetry show and B went through them. At least I suspect he did. He had mentioned to me that he didn't like it when I carried my backpack with my journals. Why? Because it made him uncomfortable. I'm not sure what I was supposed to do with that. He knew I was a writer before we got together. Made him uncomfortable. Wow. He said he felt like when I carried my journals it made him feel like I wasn't coming back home. I came home every night. Those were his insecurities, not mine. Anyway, against my better judgement, I left my journals in my closet when I left. When I returned he said something to me that I had only said in my private writing. I didn't mention it to him because he would have only denied it. I was over him by that time anyway. I had had enough of feeling physically and mentally violated. I had had enough of him undressing me in my sleep, as hard as it has always been for me to get to sleep. I had had enough of waking up to him inserting himself inside of me. I had had enough of him being offended by my no as if my body didn't belong to me. I was over his insults.

When I left I had to admit to myself that the anger I carried most was not directed at him, but at me. I was angry that I felt I needed him. I was angry I let it go so far. I was angry at myself for compromising my non negotiables. I was angry for not being clear to myself about what they were. All these years though, I carried anger against myself and was afraid to say out loud I was angry at him too. Neither of us were faultless. Neither of us were complete devils or angels. But I did what I tend to do, internalized and held blame and guilt. The thing though, is that if I own mine, I should feel free with charging him with his. He is not protected anymore from my stories. Truthfully, beside this blog entry I may never go into further detail but really, I have to remember who said this because it's so brilliant, "If people wanted me to speak warmly about them, they should have behaved better in my life." Or something like that very close.

Well, I didn't intend to say any of that this afternoon. This was just my first post of the day, where I like to begin with a let it out. I didn't even realize how much space that story was taking up inside of me.

Good day, y'all. Good day.

Also, I'm on the road to forgiveness. Of myself and others. Not that there is any difference or space between others and me. Chew on that.