Monday, August 11, 2008

#1: lowest of low.

They say you never really know what you got 'til its gone.

'Tis true.
This wasn't the post I had in mind when I deleted all the old fashion bullshit I recently posted, thinking that's who I really was. This isn't the post I had in mind that would be the start to 'revamping' my blog, so I could million of readers to sit here & actually care what I had to say. In fact, what has occurred in my life within the past 72 hours, wasn't anything I could expect either. 

For the last 72 hours, starting around approximately Friday evening, I was faced w. having the one person I loved the most, aside from the family I reside with, taken away from me. For the last 72 hours, the fate of my boyfriend's life was given to someone who had absolutely no idea who my boyfriend really was except for what his charges read him as. For the last 72 hours, I spent thinking where the fate of my future would lie, if the one person that I was guaranteed would be there -- just left, just got locked away for 15 years or so. As cliche as it sounds, 'w. a blink of an eye, my whole life changed.' 

I died, not literally. But more than figuratively. 
For the last 72 hours, every bit of happiness had be sucked out of me. It was like my soul decided it couldn't take what I was facing & just bounced, leaving nothing but a cold exterior body. I no longer had passion, I no longer felt joy, happiness was a vague memory of what I used to be. For the last 72 hours, I cried for probably about 63 hours. For the last 72 hours, I couldn't think anything bout negative thoughts, worse case scenarios & all the different alternatives of what 'could' happen from other people. I literally became a crying mess, consuming most of my day w. a tissue at hand. For the last 72 hours, I had become closer w. three people that I cannot even look at as my friends again, but merely my extended family. 

I spent most of my 72 hours w. Shaun, Danielle & Mateo, sitting there trying to console me, and convince me that everything would be okay in the end. We became experts of the system by early Saturday morning, all thanks to google, and just all the information we read, or found out -- wasn't making anything better. Nothing was worse, than waking up Saturday morning, knowing that my boyfriend was still in this place that he didn't belong, along w. our good friend Justin. And sitting in court on Saturday night, listening and watching all these people and their cases just justified it. The people that stood w. their hands behind their back in front of a fat white judge getting their wack ass charges read out loud were the true criminals. Not Justin, and not my boyfriend. 

Then it was their turn.
They went up together, got their charges read together. And the bullshit public defense attorneys -- white men, who knew NOTHING about these two men, except for what the system was trying to lock them up for, had to plea on their behalf as if they cared about what would happen to them in the future. Clearly, they didn't. Clearly, their job is to act like they care while they are talking to you behind bars, but as soon as they get in front of the judge, it's just a different story. Nonetheless, Justin was released. "You OUT, you IN," is all I remember hearing the annoying as police man scream as he pointed Justin out, and pushing Carlos back down into the cold basement where he would be sent of to Rikers later that night.

I died two times.
Just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse, just when I thought I had reached every wack feeling I could possibly feel -- it got worse. Even worse, when I found out that we had an hour to pay bail & it was already 1:30AM. 5 hours of sitting in court, just to see the back of my boyfriend for less than 5 minutes before he went back to where he came from. 

Sunday night, he was out. I felt a weight lift from my shoulder, but there is still so much that needs to be taken care of before we can return to our regularly scheduled life. And as much as I'd like to say everything is better, it's not completely there just yet. My 20th birthday is less than a few hours away, and something I was once to excited about has just become a hassle. A hassle because its a mere distraction from his second court date which is on Thursday. A hassle because, I no longer want to grow up. I rather digress back to childhood where I don't have to worry about any of this nightmare happening. But I can't. We're just going to have to face it together.  Slowly but surely, its gonna get better. 

I guess parts of you have to die to make you that better person. 
And for the next couple of months, excuse me -- if I'm not my old self. 
For the last 72 hours, I realized I lost myself many months before this incidence had occurred, and I have to fight to get the old El back -- because this person living inside of me, this person that is just as responsible for this whole situation .. this isn't me. I'm better than that. We're better than that. We became to much of the world, and not what God had planned for us to be. 

I'm still dead.

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