Spaced Conversations

It was a picture. I wasn’t expecting it and when I saw you I broke and reverted to 16 year old me. I got giddy, happy and terrified all at once. When I responded you disappeared for a little over a week.

A second picture. This time with a caption, “miss you.” And I knew it was a lie but I didn’t care. I told you I missed you too and I meant it. You disappeared again and because I cant help it I reached out. The shortest conversation ever took place, a quick exchange that strained two responses out of you before radio silence took over a few days.

“Send me a picture,” is what I got next. Stupid in love, even after so many years, I did. We flirted and teased and then you were gone.

I should know better. I do know better, but his hold on me is unlike any other. My love life has been far from fairy tale like and I know I’ll have to live with it because the decisions I make cannot be changed by anyone but me and unfortunately a stupidity hopefully part of me still think there could still be a chance for you and me. There isn’t.

Don’t pine for someone who doesn’t fight for you like you have fought for them, lovelies.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine.

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A Pain Much Greater

So… I’m sick. No worries. Nothing terminal, but it is painful. Extremely.

Today I went to an amusement park with a friend, a friend I had argued with the night before. But we always make up somehow. She finally had the courage to tell me she had been pregnant. Had been, she aborted the baby. A baby that was 8 weeks old. I would have tried to convince her of considering adoption instead.

I wish she would have told me sooner.

I got home and showered. While showering I had this sudden pain, like a knife shooting through, like I’d lost all strength. Then I was curled up in the tub waiting for the pain to go away. All the while tears are coming out because it’s painful and because right then my mind decided that it was a good idea to recall last night’s dream.

I remembered him. The man who was older, the man who had begged me to tell him that I loved him the same night he begged me to be his girlfriend. The man who broke me beyond repair and went around sleeping with multiple people.

I got over the fact that I wasn’t enough for him, but my heart is shattered and impossible to repair.

There were so many signs that he was unfaithful and I chose to ignore them. Denial is a powerful mistress. And now I tell my stories with stains on my cheeks from dried up tears.

And now I finish my tales with brimming tears, knowing full well I will cry myself to sleep. So my advice? Don’t be like me. If you notice the signs don’t ignore them. The aftermath is much worse than the current doubts.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine.

The Story of Him: The Beginning

Let me tell you a story. At least what I remember of it. It began about 7, 8 years ago, give or take. I had started tenth grade along side my “newly” made best friend, Jo. She and I had met the previous year and hated each other’s guts. One quick match of chess in which we both yelled “check-mate!” at the same time made us solid best friends for years to come. When tenth grade separated us to two different groups it sucked. We also had no choice in the matter so we would meet for lunch and hang with each other often. (We were quite the loners.)

The year was so slow when it began, but one quarter through the year it began to move a lot quicker. Quicker than I was comfortable with. I didn’t want it to end. You see, one quarter through the year I met him. He was the begining of a horrible ending, I’m sorry to say. Of course that’s not how it started.

I remember I was taking the bus back home. The lady driving had a rule. Boys in the front, girls in the back. She was a grumpy lady and I had a Rosa Parks complex. So that day I sat at the front, the second row on the right side. She hadn’t noticed. Yet. Just as she was getting ready to leave, two guys came rushing in laughing and making a ruckus. They sat in front and I recognized one of them. He was my friend, Marcus, and a bit annoying. His friend was no exception. I was intrigued though. He wasn’t the most good looking guy but there was a lot we had in common. Our conversation flowed for the most part and we laughed a lot. Loud. So loud the bus driver lady noticed me and sent me to the back. Though we were just an acquaintance I couldn’t get the boy out of my head. He was fun, funny, smart, and his personality drew me in. I also didn’t get his name and at the time I couldn’t care less.

I never thought I’d see the guy again. One day, while going to lunch at mine and Jo’s favorite hot dog stand we saw the guys. Marcus, Him and some other dude I’d never seen before. Marcus introduced us, realizing none of us had a clue at names. His, Hector, was the name that would send my world in a twirl. And then there was Rob. But he’s not all that important just yet. We quickly became friends. All of us would spent lunch eating spicy hot dogs and getting in trouble. I found my bravery to try new things with Hector, which included jumping a river. Granted I got wet and so did the rest of my Stuff. All my notebooks were goners.

Always laughing, always smiling, always falling harder for him. I don’t know what it was about him, but every day he changed in my eyes. His looks were not an issue before long because to me it was like he went from a frog to prince charming, no kiss needed. (My money is on puberty.)

So this is the story of Him.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine

Wrong Questions

I’m excited. I’m ecstatic. I’m overwhelmed. I’m overcome.

“Why do you do this to me? You wanna go to a hooka bar? You never been to a hooka bar? Whaaaaat? You wanna go? We gotta go clubbing and walk The Stars in Hollywood.”

These are the questions that helped bring about a disappointment I should have seen coming. You’re not the same person from high school. Sure even back then you were concerned with things better left for a delinquent. Not that clubbing and hooka is a delinquent affair, but your following words broke my heart.

“Tell em you’ll be with me. I wouldn’t let no one hurt you. You know that.”

Those words are meant to make someone feel safe, cared for, loved and protected. What they did was make me sad because I could hear the message behind them. I knew what they truly meant, what you were involved with and the company you kept. Once your innocence was much like mine. Excited over danger but never really tangled with it. That still stands for at least one of us. I miss who you were. I miss your blissful innocence and harmless meddling with danger, until is became a stressing reality that follows you everywhere.

You asked, playfully “oh unless you don’t want to see me?”

At the time I wouldn’t think twice about seeing you. Now? I’m afraid my pull to you will cloud my better judgment.

I don’t. I don’t want to see you. So this time? Stay away. No matter how many times you get the urge to toy with me, no matter how many times I weaken and reach out to you, no matter how bad our “connection” hurls us together.

But let’s be real. I will never see you again. You toy with my feelings and likely get off on making a fool out of me by convincing me that we are meant for each other. I wonder what would have happened to us if you had never moved away.

Where would we be now? Would the innocence have remained? Were we really meant for each other? Would I have done anything for you now as I would have back then?

Wrong questions.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine

Willingly Naive

It took so much of my will power not to text the one person I knew would bring down all of my defenses and still I failed. It took all that was left not to send my heart shattering to pieces, leaving nothing but fine dust and an unrecognizable form of what it used to be.

Distance was key. Distance kept my heart and soul safe. Distance was survival. But distance has no regards for people and their feelings so it disappeared. Distance left and closed a gap that kept me safe and for the most part sane.

I was so willing to plunge into uncertainty despite the consequences and let me tell you, I paid them. I paid them in full and now I hide the hurt from others. I force and push and shove back the one expression that could expose the vacancy in my heart. In a corner is a void that longed to be filled, forced shut for protection and now pried open so wide it might never close again.

You got my hopes up knowing I was weak and defenceless against you. Just your voice was enough to make my heart submit. You hurt me…

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine

The Guy In The Cowboy Hat

Hello my lovelies,

I recently quit my job at a marvelous shoe store. My only regret? Not talking to Cowboy Hat.

Ok in all due honesty the job sucked. The people sucked even harder. It was the worst time of my life, but on to bigger and better things. I wouldn’t quit without having something else up my sleeve of course.

Cowboy hat and I exchanged hellos and polite smiles here and there when he would make his rounds in my store, did I mention he was security?

I’m the most shy person I know. There was no way a conversation would strike up, let alone hold up. So I kept to myself, naturally. Now I live in the part of my head that questions “What if?”

Word of advise lovelies? Take a chance, or live your life regretting everything you don’t try.

Short and sweet.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine

One Contingency, Two Incidents

I have fallen in love. For those of you that believe that falling in love more than once is a myth I assure you it is not. I fell in love once, was at risk of falling in love and then fell in love a second time. Three situations, three different people, one contingency, and two incidents.

I once suffered the full effects of a permanently finalized relationship. It took me forever and a day to finally end it. It was a relationship with many uncertainties. We were on and off for over a year and I wasn’t ready to end it until I found myself at rock bottom. No one knows the real pain that navigates through my heart and plagues my mind. I have told my mother most of the truth because despite everything I can still trust her. I just opted out the parts I know would do more damage than good. Some things are just better left unsaid. Now I’m just trying to get back on my feet, but it’s proven to be very difficult.

Have you ever cried so hard, so deeply, so from the heart that you look yourself in the mirror and suddenly can’t recognize who is staring back at you? I have. It is a terrible experience to not know who you are at times. Take it from me lovelies, love is not something to be messed with. Take it seriously, tread carefully, and be cautious.

Truly Yours, Jona Constantine