What really fucked me up about the whole situation is the fact that you could verbally speak the toxicity out your mouth.

What was heard, what was witnessed, and what was your reality was something that I could see (that if something didn’t change), it would ultimately become your destruction.

The reality of the situation is that I loved you more than you loved yourself. What you never could gather as far as thoughts are concerned is that your lack of love for yourself, your life, your future, would ultimately trickle down to your children. They would either be just like you (generational curse) or want nothing to do with you as they age.

I hate that you weren’t ready, because I was sent to drop by and pick you up. Your Redemption. Your Peace. Abundance.

I knew when I got word from my spiritual tribe in my sleep a couple of months after your betrayal, “The devil says you can’t have your man back. She is going to keep him.”- you were locked in. The whisper in my ear was so soft, yet so loud. I called you all that day; No answer.

I knew that I would be fighting myself to keep fighting FOR you because you had turned against me months before that.

I told you my biggest gripe was the fact that you went to bed with the devil. That would have to be something that you would have to make the decision to rebuke and put to rest- or keep on lying down. You chose to lay down.

I realized when you were lying, manipulating, and wanting to control the situation that it was time that I let you be. You were completely covered in darkness. I couldn’t even recognize you. The blockage was your ego. Somebody was stroking it because I KNOW I refused to do it with all those 3-4am entrances after your club nights.

These hoe ass streets, that don’t love you, had you convinced you were the shit. Women you threw money at made you feel like a GOD. They didn’t even know (or care) of you were taking care of home…Because you weren’t. I picked up every CENT of your slack. I could lay my eyes on the snakes you would have to kill moving forward.

But YOU had YOU.

I’d say you met your match. I wasn’t the first that you’d left hanging and heartbroken, but I suspect I’ll be the last moving forward. Over these next months/years, you’ll “feel” what I’m talking about. I’ve been there. I survived it. You will too. I’ve been healing nicely too, might I add.

Oh…before I forget, congratulations.

Until Next Time…

-Alex