Who Gon’ Pray For Me? Take My Pain For Me? Save My Soul For Me? ‘Cause I’m Alone, You See

I need to get laid.

Not that it would be hard if I put any effort into it whatsoever, but needing and wanting are two completely different things. Swiping right (or whatever way you swipe to choose yes on the infamous app) would be so easy to produce a one night stand. But I’ve just come to the point in my life where I’m done with that right now.

I’m done with so much fake shit. I can only ask how many siblings a person has so many times before craving something deeper, something real. Then having felt something more real, it’s next to impossible to go back to all that surface crap. Knowing there are guys out there who can legitimately care about other people, makes it hard to go back to your everyday run of the mill man.

Can I take care of myself? Of course, but it’s not the same as being fucked by an actual living, breathing, warm, body. So now I’m at an impasse. I want real sex. But I don’t want to ever have to go through the “meet and greet” stage ever again.

I have also been avoiding blogging about K for a long time because it’s been painful to put closure on. I don’t even know where to start/end this blog.

Let’s just say we are no longer speaking basically. And that hurts me to the point that there are tears in my eyes as I write this. Which is why I’ve been avoiding it. I wanted to pretend if even in my mind that it wasn’t over. But reality is real. And facts are facts.

And those facts are that after one misstep after another, we’re done.

If I could pin-point it to a few crucial moments, it probably started with a horrible misunderstanding back in February. He called me at work one morning and it’s my belief that he had intentions of asking me out to lunch. But of course me in my ways ruined it and made him probably feel less than, which was never my intentions, but that’s what happened. In the end it was wrecked because of me of course. All I had ever wanted from him was for him to ask me out on an actual date. In public. So when the time came, and it was stressful and slightly awkward, trying to make the transition from FWB to an actual ask me on a date, it turned a phone call that could’ve been beautiful into something quite ugly.

The result? No lunch date that’s for sure. Just a string of awful texts and the end of the most important relationship in my life.

Then a couple weeks later as I was dealing with E and suicidal thoughts, I did call K. I felt I had no one else. I happened to catch him at work but he called me back and helped me out of what, he may not have known, but it was a moment of deep suicidal thoughts, something I’ll forever be thankful for. Unfortunately, I made a stupid move and then directed my anger at E.

All my anger. A lot of it. To the point I wanted him done with. And considered doing it myself . I went so far as proceeding to ask K if he had access to some illegal things (not that I could ever do anything, but I was just asking). Yep, I asked a guy who is trying to just finish up his time on parole and become a better person, if he could get me things that could fuck up his parole sooo bad. Not my brightest moment, but at the time seemed to make the most sense to me considering he was the only one I’d ever met who had past experience with that kinda stuff. I was in a dark desperate place for sure, I wasn’t at my finest during that time. Needless to say K wasn’t impressed and made the hella smart move of blocking me…After again cussing me out.

So, that’s where we stand. Apart from once when he called me last week to tell me he’d have some of my stuff for me before I moved this month, I haven’t physically talked to him in months. He needed to make a move that was safe and smart for his future. And I needed to smarten up.

And it’s been sad. For a lack of a better word, it’s been sad in my life.

Trust me, I know fucking a different random guy isn’t going to make this feeling go away, which is why I’m not even going to bother. I’m just saying…. I crave the feeling of a man holding me. Even if I know it’s not going to happen, I can want it, as well as regret my mistakes.


-Kendrick Lamar Ft. The Weeknd/Pray For Me-

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Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked / I Can’t Hold Back Though You Know I Wish I Could

We’d been living in Nakuru for about 2-3 months now, and had settled in as best as we could. E had been asked to come back and play for the national rugby team so he kept busy with that. I was occupied with attempts at learning a new language (unsuccessfully), raising a baby (successfully), and adjusting to life in a completely different environment then I was used to. E’s old local team asked him to come play with them when he was in town and normally I took our son Little E to watch. But on this one occasion I was just getting over my first experience with Malaria and so I had to pass. E went to the game and said he’d be home early since he didn’t feel like staying out late with the guys. No big deal.

Normal game time passes, plus an hour or two and I don’t hear from E. I tried calling him to see how it went with no answer. 2 hours turn into 4 then 6 then its overnight… and nothing from him. I’m going through every scenario in my head about where he could be, what could have happened, is he ok, what can I do? Everything. I’ve been calling his phone practically every 15 minutes since 3 AM with no response. At first I figured OK fine they won and he’s partying with the guys that’s fine. But after no answer. No text. No call.  And no E. It got scary. By the morning I called his sister to see if she had heard from him, but she was in Nairobi for the weekend and no, hadn’t heard from him and gave little no advice about what to do to find him. So my next option was to go out looking for him.

E had told me stories about him growing up and being arrested a few times walking home from rugby with friends just because they looked like a bunch of guys up to no good (making trouble in the neighbourhood 😉). Or being beaten up on the way home by a group of guys and getting robbed. (Again probably lies) So I’m thinking the only reason he hasn’t called is because he’s locked up, or half dead in a gutter somewhere, while at the same time trying to maintain my own sanity and logic and not freak out before I figure out whats actually happened.

So I strapped on Little E in a sling and set out to find my husband. Still half sick with a deadly disease and all.  In a town I barely knew. In a place where I was literally the only white woman there. I had no idea where to go first so I decided to head towards the rugby club. All the way across town. I went on foot so I could keep a closer eye on the sides of the road for E. My thought process was to check the gutters one way on the way there, and the other side on the way back if needed. Morbid, but true.

I made a stop at his sisters house to see if maybe he had stopped there for the night and was greeted by a guy I’d never met, but somehow through a bunch of marriages, he knew we were related. I realized by now, that everyone knew me, and I knew… like 4 people. Anyways, I explained what was going on and he agreed to take me to the police station.

At the station, the long lost relative left me, to go back home to sleep, I’m pretty sure he was hungover. It took about an hour for the cops to go through all the guys they’d locked up the previous night, while I waited nervously in the waiting room, trying to ignore the catcalls and other offensive things coming from the cells, to determine that E wasn’t there. So, now  I guess it was off to the rugby club. Another hours walk away all while lugging Little E. Turned out to be completely empty. I had no other ideas of where to look or what to do, so I headed home. On the opposite side of the road. After about 5 hours of wandering the city and repeatedly calling E, I was still no closer to knowing where he was or what had happened to him, so I went home.

I got to the house and took my son off who by then felt like he was 100 lbs. I took my medication for the malaria and did my best to sleep considering I was supposed to be resting, you know to not die and all, but it alluded me. Until there was a knock at the window. There was E. Casually trying to stroll in at around 3 in the afternoon.

I was so relieved and SO mad at the same time I didn’t let him in. He stood out on the back porch and explained through the window that he got so drunk he went and slept at his sisters house in the backyard because he didn’t want me to see him. I told him everything I had done to find him while trying to control my anger. All he had to say to me was not thank you, but instead he had the balls to say that when I went to his sisters I should’ve thought to come to the shed in the backyard to find him.

What the? So now it’s my fault I’m sick and carried our son all over this foreign city to find your drunk ass and I didn’t look in the right place!

I didn’t care that he got drunk. People do that.

I didn’t care that he didn’t come home. Although a call would’ve been nice.

But to blame me for not thinking of looking in the shed? Fuck off.

I opened the door. Handed him the baby, and finally went to sleep myself.

His hungover ass could deal with making himself dinner that night. I had had enough E for the day.


–Cage The Elephant/Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked-