The Box Assignment

I wanted to bring this box..

It’s measurements are 16x14x7. Empty, solid and already decorated.

On the outside there are large, watercolor- painted flowers; mostly in pink and purple. I love flowers!

The petals are shades of blue and green. A deep teal color floods the background.

There’s a flap with a magnetic closure that snaps the box shut. The flap is covered in gold foiled polka dots. Gold is my favorite accent!

A perfect representation; powerful in size, simple, yet bold. Home-goods was spot on!

My mom gave me the box, unbeknownst to her what my intentions were.

Now, what to fill it with? The inside of this box is already lined with a paper that is light pink with a brush pattern.

Ok. Let’s dig through this pile of life. I’ve got some bubble wrap, a few post-it notes, a bible, maybe a mirror?

Yikes.. there goes that bottle of tears, I can throw in half of a heart, shards of glass, unkind words, reminisce of a sandwich, a couple of diplomas, some likes on IG, empty relationships, busted hopes, deferred dreams, memories.. yeah… those memories.

The ones with the white house, yard space, barking dog, barbeques and family ties.

That took up a lot of space. I don’t know if there is room for anything else.

But these should fit too. I have photographs of smiles, scented candles, passport stamps from adventures, birthday cards, hugs and kisses, heavy duty tape, non-scale victories, a voice with passion, Starbucks gift cards, doodles from Olivia, a desire to empower, group text messages, a shot glass, a journal of wishes, nail polish, family-dynamics, more bubble wrap, yes.. more bubble wrap and the other half of a heart.

I wanted to bring this box..

It’s a 16x14x7. Empty, solid and an already decorated box. A perfect representation; powerful in size, simple, yet bold.

It was just too heavy to carry.

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Skinned knees and shit

It doesn’t matter how good it sounds. How logical it seems. “In the long run it makes sense”. Walking away is and has never been easy.

Have you ever ran and tripped ( maybe as a kid) and skinned your knee? It’s red and bleeding and the skin has clearly been scrapped off. It hurts to walk. The tears are from shock. The pain hasn’t even really set in yet. You’re just reliving the trauma. How did that happen?! Oh yeah. I remember now. :: Cringe :: stupid! stupid! Stupid!

I’m never doing that again.

Now it’s time for the soap and water or peroxide (my mom is in nursing). You have to clean it or you’re loosing your leg! It’s not alcohol thank God! but we all know it’s gonna sting one way or another.

The pouring of the peroxide feels cool and painless… then it begins… the sting and simultaneous foaming. ( Fuuuck! That stings! ) ok but it’s working right?!

Ok I did my part. I handled it… like Olivia Pope.

Anddddd… the healing process begins. The ointment, the bandaids, the soreness, the limping, the discoloration, the accidental bang ( fuck that hurt! ) the itching, the scabbing.

Ok. The pain went away. The skin is growing back– you can see the pigment… Finally. Healing.

Pretty much back to normal.. but the scar remains. Reminding you to.. idk… slow the hell down, stop texting and walking, 3 shots of tequila is enough, the railing is there for a reason, DON’T DO THAT AGAIN!

( more than likely, we do it again.. smh )

We’ve all been there. We all know that we will heal.. but the process is rough. I’m just saying.

-Candace

Local love.

It’s simply not fair.

There’s nothing you can do to make someone fall for you. Choose you, see you, want you, need you.

I’m sad and hurt and confused, feel used.

Why ask to lend you my heart if you knew it was only temporary from the start?

It’s simply not fair.

because I gave it to you .. to nurture and keep safe despite the hesitation.

You may have felt a tingle but not enough to cease the mingle.

Honest but intentional to keep me around for your entertainment, for your lonely nights, for your local love.

It’s simply not fair.

After candles and flower petals, love making to soft sounds

its over and it hurts

Im tired of the butterflies of hope only fluttering around but not landing.

I thought with you, this time, it wouldn’t be a tease

I keep wondering why God only allows me a sip and not drink of everlasting love.

It’s simply not fair.

Now I have to put my game face on, as though my insides don’t feel raw and sting with every breath.

Now I have to push through this pain that I so hoped to avoid.

Now I have to focus on everything that isn’t you.. even if you made the most mundane things tolerable.

Now I have to sleep alone again. Now I have to cry again. Now I have to figure it out again.

Now I will have to trust again.

Its simply not fair.

-Candace

With a K

He spells his name with a K not a C.

What he can’t C is that I need something like a K.

South meets North

Separated by a bridge and a babe by a cloud and a date

FaceTime to get facetime.

Laughing at laughter.

A steak house but no steak please. It’s 113 degrees

Tomorrow is today

Today is yesterday

Seal it with a kiss, miss this

Missin this

Talk of hush-puppies and catfish, while watching Catfish.

Collapsing

Changing scenes changing dreams changing … means?

Knowing the best-case scenario is a scenario at best case.

Reflecting on the past, deflecting from the present, protecting for the future

-Candace

 

Matthew 11:28 ESV

Some context.. I have been upset on and off about the weight I’ve put on. I purchased a few new it run this week because the blazer I wanted to wear was too tight. Last night I posted a general msg on Facebook about wanting God to turn my struggle into strength. This morning I attempted to put on a coat and it also was too tight.

———-

My friend came across this scripture in her devotional and texted it to me while I slept.

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”

Below is my response:

Thank you for sending this. It makes sense. I just feel like aren’t I supposed to be doing my part so God can bless it? Waiting isn’t effective.

You know how I feel about my weight. I’m having such a hard time. Going to the group yesterday was cool and when I hear people ( especially WLS patients ) talk about people they know that “blew up” or “gained twice as much”‘or “are bigger than when they started” my heart sinks. I am torn up. Not only for them but It’s the most horrible feeling to recognize myself on track with these stories.

I feel like I’m stuck. Between my past ( where I’ve come from — the good and bad ) and my future ( where I could end up ) . Technically I would be in the present right? My present makes me feel like a failure of my past … at least when it comes to my weight gain. I’m so angry and sad. I try to smile through it because I want to accept myself, but I’m not happy like this. I’m disappointed and ashamed. I dont know where to place the blame. I’m scared and embarrassed. And those feelings perpetuate and give strength to my despair.

I don’t know how to fight it or if I even should. Every time I put something on that no longer fits– it’s a punch to the gut. My huge growing gut! Audrey asked .. “doesn’t that motivate you ? ” I wish it did. — I wish I had identified a “why?” Back then, that wasn’t so easily broken. That I could bottle up and drop a dab on my tongue whenever I was loosing motivation.

I literally am terrified to commit. Contemplating all that i would have to sacrifice and all the “willpower” and all the failures and set backs that I would need to endure. Questioning WHY I HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS???? I read this post yesterday from this guy who was acknowledging his transformation. He started out at 380 had surgery went down to 230 and regained up to 550! He is now at 185 and gives God all the Glory and says it was a spiritual journey.

God did this. He created all of this. I’m thankful and pissed. I realized the other day by the water.. that I didn’t know God when I had the surgery. He was not acknowledged. From my perspective ..He had nothing to do with it. I did t even know what a blessing was. In retrospect.. I took it all for granted. It was such a fleshy experience. So…! This is where I am. I want to OVERCOME this craziness!

——–

I guess I’m posting this for awareness and possibly / hopefully testimonial purposes.

Love? 

I’m going into be honest with you… I have no idea what REAL love is , looks like or sounds like. 

At first I probably thought it was a given. You know like you’re born and your parents love you. They ohhh and ahhh at everything you do. There are hugs and kisses and gifts and smiles and happiness. And the words.. “I love you “. That’s love right ? Your whole family.. well maybe half of the family expresses love with affection and kind words, where the other half expresses love in gifts and quality time .. perhaps somewhere in the middle. Or at least I think that’s what happened. 

As time goes on, people enter and exit your life. Friends, neighbors, classmates, teachers, relatives, lovers, strangers.. and somewhere in those interactions you realize that what you thought was love, wasn’t really love. 

Your mom can’t say the words but show it. Your dad shouts it from the roof top but there is no action. Your brother kinda just floats somewhere in the middle. You, your friends and family may do and say hurtful things and still stick around or disappear into the past. Confused? Me too. 

Ok so maybe society is right.. maybe love is sex; intimacy. That one on one private time. It’s special. It’s sacred. Until you get come out of the bathroom and he’s gone. Ok.. maybe let me try again with someone else. A handful of late night phone calls, I miss you’s, I only like you as a friend, what’s good for tonight, who’s your friend?, some condoms, some trust, maybe even a few “I love you’s”… and still no love. 

Am I too tall? Ok I’ll hang out with girls my height. Am I mean? Ok I’ll smile more. Do I talk too much? Ok I’ll be quiet.  Am I not generous? Ok I’ll buy that for you. Am I too fat? Ok I’ll lose weight. Am I a prude? Ok let’s bone. Am I boring? Ok I’ll take up a few hobbies. Am I ugly? I’ll get some makeup. Am I stupid? Ok I’ll go to an Ivy League. Am I too easy? Ok I’ll be celibate. 

What is it? Why don’t you love me? What do I need to do to get you to love me? How many time must I be fooled by false love? How many more times will I question my worth? How many more time will I fear the words? How many more time will I give up my body just to feel closeness?How many more nights will I go sleepless? How many more times will I cry to God that he stop playing with my heart? How many more times will I mistake love for loneliness? How many more times will I fill this emptiness with hopelessness?

To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I love myself at this point. Maybe I do, but then again I have no idea what REAL love is , looks like or sounds like. 

-Candace 

Still in a rut !!

Ok so .. Monday, I went to the gym for the first time in .. mmm.. maybe 2 months. 

Yeah it was in August when I last worked out; I took an aquafit class while in D.C. It was like yoga, but in a pool! Yasss!!  (#OAC2016 taught me some new tricks 🙂 

 In my opionion, I still look fly (takes kissy selfie lol) ..umm but I’m up 17lbs since this time last year tho. DAMN!                (My ass got fat, literally! )

Yes, a lot has changed in the past year. I don’t want to go into too many details but, the point is .. 

me + fitting my clothes from last year= fail. 

FML. I need to get it together! 

Stay tuned…

-Candace