I was born in October of 1975, in a small town in Missouri. My mother was a housewife and my stepfather worked in a furniture factory. With four children, all my parents could afford was a simple existence for the family. However, I wouldn’t trade those days with anyone or for anything.
I am the second child of my mother's four children. There is my older sister who is three years my senior, our brother who is three years younger than me, and lastly our baby sister who is six years younger than me and three years younger than our brother.
Twenty days after my twenty-first birth on Halloween 1996 we suffered the loss of our precious mother. That day, our lives were forever changed.
My heart simply won't let go doing it any other way, so it's back to what works for me. As harsh as it may be, it's what I must do to preserve who I am on the inside.
Dr. MLKJ said it best. "Our Lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter" When searching for the imagery for this entry, I became sick. It's a disgrace that they claim to protect the children, then under the surface of lies and mistrust do something evil, sick, and twisted with them all for a profit.
Honestly, I believe I’ve had enough of the vicious emotional games that most ghastly men try to play. From the foolish ones, those who think it’s okay for them to behave a certain way. . . .
Dodging bullets is not an easy thing to realistically achieve. However, I've carefully managed to dodge two of them already this miserable year. First with Mark, now with Ricardo. We both knew we undoubtedly had an up hill battle if we genuinely wanted to be together. We each admittedly had an obstacle, mine being emotional, and his being obligational. All it would merely take was one of us being unable to cope adequately with the other's specific situation, and it would be over. Not surprisingly, he quit and gave up.