The End

I have endured pain throughout my teenage years and into my adult life. Who has not? I am hoping that by writing this blog, some of this pain will cease to be.
Growing up, I always fell for older guys. When I was 15, there was the 28 year old, when I was 16, there was another 28 year old who was married, when I was 17 there was a 33 year old.
No, I was not an out of control teen who had sex to get guys to like me, as a matter of fact I did not have sex with any of them, which is probably why I was with so many in such a short period, but I didn't realize that then. And yes, my parents kept control of me. They just gave me freedom in which I chose to spend trying to find the love of my life. It didn't work.
One of these men was someone that I was absolutely infatuated with. He was funny and smart and made his own money (living with mom and dad didn't set off any red flags at that time), and he thought I was pretty. We hung out for some years. I was daft in thinking that this could be something, but as soon as he met "the love of his life", I was out the door.
Another one of them was just a crazy bastard. We had to call the cops on him after he threatened my family.
And one of them I still talk to today. This one was truly special to me. I was in love with him, as much as I could be. We talked all the time. But his life was to growd up for me. I couldn't understand why he felt the things he felt, as much as I tried, I had not lived enough to feel the same emotions he felt at that time.
So we parted ways, occasionally finding each other again for brief moments. And now that I have lived ALOT more, I am understanding where he was coming from all of those years ago.
After I grew up and found a life of my own, I was still not done looking for love. I always told myself I would meet my future husband in a grocery store. I never made it a point to look or flirt with guys I saw in a grocery store, but the thought was just there.
In May of 2002, my friend Autumn and I were going down the frozen food isle of the grocery store. Then I heard a man make a comment about my ass. It really kind of annoyed me as I have a ghetto booty and hear those kinds of remarks all the time. The remark really was not offensive, or so I hope, as I do not remember. But I turned around and there was C.J. He was tall, he was black and he had the cutest smile. By the end of the adventure, I had given him my number reluctantly, because he had such a charming personality.
The next day, I received a call from him asking me out on a date.
Our first date was so awesome. It was pouring that night. He took me to a club called Alley Cats, a karaoke bar. I had no clue the man loved to sing. When it was his turn, he got up on stage, looked straight at me and sang "I love a rainy night". As he was singing towards me, I swear I sunk over halfway down into my chair. I did not know this man and here he was singing to me. But he was good. His pitch, his tempo it was all spot on. Afterwards, we ended up getting stranded and rained on and it was the most fun I had ever had.
One night, I was in my apartment doing my thing and all of a sudden he popped into my mind, and the song "How Do I live Without You" by Leanne Rimes was playing in my head at the same time. I thought, "This is the perfect song" as I was pretty smitten with him at this time. We had gone out a couple of times and we clicked perfectly well. So I decided to pick up the phone and call him. I explained what had happened and before I could tell him the song he said he thought of one that was perfect for me as well. IT WAS THE SAME SONG!! I will never forget that phone call. I will never forget his smile, and I have prayed to God so hard to help me remember his voice. Because on January 11, 2003 C.J. died.
I did not get to say goodbye, as a matter of fact I believe he thought I had left him. You see, he was far away because the health care he needed was free. He wanted so badly to come see me that he did things that were not of his nature to try to make this happen. But I knew, and his momma knew and his brother knew that the trip would kill him. So I ended it. I tried to explain, but he was so furious with me, he kept telling me it was because of someone else that I had done this to him. In the end, we were talking fairly often, but I do not know if he ever forgave me.
Today, I wish I would not have sank so low in my chair on our first date, I wish I would have never stopped looking at him when we were together because then, maybe I would not have forgotten his face. What I will always remember is the love he had for me and how I let the love that I searched for, for so long, just slip through my hands.