Every Time

Every time I hear the name “Will”, I think of the times I had with my big dicked Ex boyfriend. 

At the time, he wanted a lot more than I could give. When I think of it now, I wish I was as grown up as I am now. I’m a late bloomer in every sense of the word. Emotionally, physically, just everything.

In a way, I really believe I was afraid; Afraid to take any sort of plunge, I found problems and issues with any little thing I could pick at. I broke his heart, (and my own) it makes me feel bad, feel like I’ve missed out.

Hindsight, of course, is always 20/20. The things you fuck up that you wish you could make better. Those you hurt that you can’t Make up or forgive yourself for. The fucked up things you’ve done that you can’t take back.

What I can do now is know when I have something great. Believing that I, myself, am great. That is something that always got in the way.

My self esteem is getting back there. Only if I don’t fail, if I don’t make any mistakes. I do still need to work on how hard I am on myself. I do believe that I have so much to offer the world. I can’t wait to prove it.

As for those whom I’ve hurt, I can’t blame them for being repulsed by the memory of me, the mere mention of my name, or something that reminds them of me.

I was repulsive, more than that I was confused, not comfortable or not proud to be in my own skin. As the years tick, I can just work on making these things change or disappear completely. 

I’m reinventing Fatima.

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