My own dirty laundry......

Between you and me....... One day I will tell the whole story about about you. But today I will tell the whole story about me. Phase 1: Anger enrages me as I write. Who am I mad at? Why am I so disappointed? A tear falls down from my cheek. I fall to my knees. The bathroom floor is cold. I ball up like a little child. I'm weak and vulnerable. Noone understands my pain, every friend says be strong. All I hear is minimalization saying , " Malissa it was only just a break up". Fuck you and your thoughts, better yet Malissa fuck your heart. Suck it up. I cry profusely. I'm not victim. It's my dirty laundry that I lay a prisoner to. I'm no saint you understand. My extremes far exceed my rationality. You see love is a different kinda monster. The older you get the harder the concept is to grasp further. I thought I knew it all. Once again brought down to my most humblest place on my knees asking The Lord for mercy. See this man broke every bit of me. He killed every hope in me. Desire dwindles from a cracked door lit in an empty room with no inhabitants. I don't believe in it. I've been tricked many times but you see the way this man broke me is nothing short of a disaster not even the most faith could disbelieve. My core is struck. My heart bruised. My reality dark and my own sins are what's to blame. See I'm no victim. My dirty laundry stinks. It all started with me. My work drives my desires to be this woman I always wanted to be. Strong and successful. Powerful with an ideal world where everyone would like me. It was a beautiful place where my fantasies were easily portrayed. Success was a lie, happiness was situational and my end result was the goal of love. It's everything we dream for! The older you become the more answers to life you realize you have. I don't need no damn advice, this happened because it was meant to be. As I stand in the mirror I see a liar, an insecure woman, weak, unstable, desperate and without love. This is who I am. This is the baggage of laundry I carry along with me. But I put on that lip stick. I curl my hair and buy fancy clothes. I add a beautiful scent of perfect which makes this shit I'm in appear like gold. They all end up smelling it and then Im figured out. My lies pile up so much I forget to take this nasty ass laundry out. Never asked anyone to accept it. How unfair of me? I'd rather take their own shit than to deal with what's inside of me. Shit happened for a reason? Yea well noone has the damn answer? I'm left with his shit and my shit as I deal with the pain here after. God told me never to ever move back from what I delivered you from. I broke every promise to myself desperate just to have love. He mentioned: love, marriage, family, loyalty, compassion and most of all respect. He promised to stay here and work it out with me until I was better. Even he didn't want my dirty ass laundry. He broke every promise he ever made to me. Still my own heart wreaks. I ain't shit and he ain't either. I believed his bullshit and he had a master endeavor. It's my own damn laundry and one day I'll wash this shit. But today I'll sit my ass on this bathroom floor and wrap as I wrote this shit. Yesterday I formulated a text that was so ugly. It showed me how much filth is really in my dirty laundry. It ain't you that I'm mad at. Better yet my own self that believed in all your baggage. See we both carried our own shit. The difference is I was real and you were fake about your list. You surprised me how well you knew exactly what to say. I've never been played in that type of way. Said we would be together forever, but you never mentioned your long list and shit stains, coil and pure filth that u carried along with. You offered advice and listened intently as I revealed each piece. It was amazing to watch you be so scripted and rehearsed while trying to fix me. A con artist. You weren't to blame. I blame myself for not recognizing that filth smell I knew all to well. One day I'll tell the full story about you. But today I will tell the whole story about me. Phase 1 is irrational but meaningful to me. Phase 1 is anger because when I reach phase 2 you will no longer matter to me. Time to cleanse my own filth so I can be of worth to give to another. But u swear if you ever come my way again you will regret every bit of dirty laundry you have me..... I hope you find strength thought me ~Intimately MalissaRenee