in search

there's this belief that youngest children are constantly trying to prove themselves.

i didn't particularly think it was true...

until i started trying to figure out what i wanted to do with my life

and realizes

that there is absolutely nothing new

that some sibling hasn't done before...

now i finally understand what they mean.

i guess its the curse of the youngest - - - to forever live in their shadows.

the same article said that the youngest have little ambition- used to getting whatever they want for doing barely anything...youngest children tend to get along on charm alone.

i won't deny my charm.

its gotten my through enough classes that i know it works when i need it to

kind of rusty at the moment...but the polish is coming out...finals are around the corner

i had a bf once who told me i had no ambition. he asked me what i wanted to be when i grow up

i was 19. barely 19. and happy just to be happy. so thats what i said.

"i want to be happy. i want to be happy and satisfied"

he shook his head and asked again, "what do you want to be when you grow up? like what do you want to do?"

i thought about it. we had been driving through the night from school to the eastern shore and of the three hour drive over 4 years ago i remember the night sky and smell of salt water like it was yesterday. the breeze. the rush. the excitement...

and the question.

i wanted to come up with something that would wow him. something that no one had told him before. some huge dramatic reenactment for what i had decided would be my future...but all i could see were the stars and all i could smell was the breeze...and the only thing i could think to say were my dreams...and the truth...and what all little girls grow up saying.

"i want to be a mother. thats what i always wanted to be. i want to be a stay-at-home-mom and raise my kids and be happy..."

simple

straight forward

the moon-kissed-dreams of a child.

he told me i had no ambition and shook his head and never realized

that that was the moment

that i began to fall

out of love

with

him.

i told him that story again recently, (i left out the last part for polite reasons)...out of the blue like he always does he popped back into my life...he's dating a girl as far opposite from me as he could find. i think the only thing we have in common is height. and location. and a patience larger than expected to deal with the men we do...

she calls him chauvinistic. tells him that all he wants is to control her. her dreams are huge compared to the simple ones i once had. she wants the big city and the big job and the corner office...and she wants to fight every man who gets in the way.

4 years later - now his dreams seem small.

he wants a farm. in the country. a few acres. a few crops. kids and students...and quiet.

i wonder where their middle ground will land.

he proposes to me once a week.

i keep telling him i'm not that girl anymore.

we laugh. and joke...and pretend like we can remember what it was that brought us together...and forget what ultimately drove us apart.

and then i'm here. again. minus the breeze and the stars dulled my street lights and car fumes...and that question comes back.

and i still don't have an answer.

i want to be successful- but doing what?

i want to be happy- but why?

i want to be satisfied....- but how?

i want to be an old woman surrounded by the people i love and i want that moment right before my last breath and i want that thought to be

"i don't regret anything..."

i once wrote a poem that said

"i want the world/on a silver platter/and i want to fight for it"

but i'm growing tired of that fight...

i wonder if you'd be there

to fight for me...

because i think

very soon

i'm going to take a break from it...

and rest

and just be that naive little girl for a while

and just be

"happy"

and in search

of

"satisfied"

Finally

I finally made it. Finally

three years later. 4 DC appearances. 2 missed concerts. 1 broken ankle and 1 horrible break up later I finally made it to a Drake concert. And i was not disappointed.

i kind of hoped I would be. I thought maybe if I went...and he forgot the words, or couldn't keep a tune, or sat down the whole time, or the crowd wasn't into or someone spilled a drink on me...something anything would be proof enough that this infatuation would be short lived. unfortunately for me it was great.

it was a great performance. packed. wall to wall people. who knew every word to every song...even the ones not yet released. and it was great.

i hadn't even expected to attend. didn't look for tickets. wasn't planning an outfit. asked about the afterparty once and had no intention of going. Jenkins has already bought our tickets to a concert in August and I was fine just waiting until then...then all of a sudden Bran text me. Friday afternoon. cool nonchalant.

::Hey. u going to the drake concert on sunday?::

: I wish :

::Indeed. is it a time thing? cuz if not i may get tickets from work::

:Na it was a ticket thing. lol:

::Haha indeed. but if I can get tickets do u wanna go wit me?::

ummm...did he just propose marriage? because that sure sounded like a proposal to me

: YES!!! :

i didn't get my hopes up. didn't even think about it again until i was standing at my 5 year high school reunion...surrounded by people and purposely did not stay in contact with pretending to care about their future plans rather than checking my watch to see if it was the ideal time to leave and seem like i came for a reason rather than running away from the people i never liked (except for the select few [or one] who i was surprisingly happy to see again)

::I have good news...:: def never saw that message

::I guess ur hangin out...anyways i got two drake tickets.::

: Just screamed at the reunion. Lol :

so yeah...we went. best date of my life. he said he doesn't like drake. he also said he got the tickets for free...but i saw him slip the guest list woman a $50 so i guess free has a price these days.

it was wonderful. as to be expected. i have no words. we were close. close enough to know he wasn't clean shaven, his eyes are actually light brown and that he does in fact resemble the jewish side of his family a little more than the black relations...he was funny. and charming. and personable...and he loved what he was doing...and to me that means more that anything else. to absolutely love what you do. to have a passion for your art...thats priceless.

the show was amazing. i'm utterly exhausted and don't regret a minute of the 3 hour wait in line or the girl who tried to knock me out because i knocked her cell phone out of her hand (she should have been holding on to it tighter) or the short girl who kept flipping her hair into my mouth...all of it was fine to finally be there and see that it was talent that made him famous and not looks or acting or money...but talent and passion and drive.

and the fact that he hasn't forgotten where he came from and he hasn't forgotten it wasn't the hood. and he's still a person with hopes and dreams and faults and its wonderful to know that this new generation of artists are people. people that we can relate to and look up to and are

real...

just real.

and standing in a room over capacity with one exit and 2 balconies and hundreds of people between the ages of 15 and 35 from white to black to asian to everything in between and mixed together shoulder to shoulder relating to one thing...or a million things and all these ideas and plans and dreams...

it was

great...