Now she want a photo Ya
You already know though
You only live once, that's the motto jigga YOLO
We 'bout it every day, every day, every day
Continuing from last week...
For the most part, I have always considered myself to be a very logical, rational and realistic thinker. So coming up as a young kid, I understood why Pops wasn’t living with us: Mom and Dad weren’t married when they had me; relationship didn’t work; Dad wasn’t obligated to stay – Facts. This always gets me annoyed when people (especially women) call fathers deadbeat. But you were the one who got pregnant for him outside of marriage (meaning a serious commitment). I never understood it.
That was something I heard quite a bit growing up. “Your dad is a deadbeat.” “Your dad ain’t doing nothing for you.” And the money shot: “You’re going to be just like your father.” You have no idea how this moulds a growing mind! I mean you might know, but for dramatic effect: “You don’t have any idea.” Lol.
I was caught in a whirlwind: “Logically, I knew why Pops wasn’t present, but I was happy with the relationship we had; and people were saying so many negative things about Pops, which got me thinking that I couldn’t afford to grow up and be like that. People just seemed to have so many negative expectations of me as a man (even while I was still a child) just because of the men whose last name I bore – apparently, we Hymans are womanizers.”
So in high school, while all my boys were busy having girlfriends, Cam was forever single. Well, I had a “girlfriend” once, but that only lasted three weeks. She was amazing – if I’m being honest – but the fear of failure crippled me. I ended the relationship even before it had a chance to take off. And, of course, that was the reason I remained single – the thought of failing in a relationship and hurting some-one and becoming the thing I never wanted to become.
Oh silly me! It wasn’t until after, after-after, that I realized how many some-ones I’d actually hurt! How many some-ones I’d hurt by trying not to hurt some-one. Oh silly me! I guess hurt people really do hurt people. I’ve heard stories from girls whose heart I’d broken because I’d strung them along for such a long time and then just dropped them. How many girls I’d charmed into some degree of intimacy and then pulled a Houdini! There was a part of me that sort of longed for that connection with someone, but always pulled the plug in the tub when it was half full, afraid of drowning or drowning someone. I guess, sometimes, even good motives aren’t enough when you’re just stuck in a bad place.
There are so many some-ones I’ve apologized to over the years – some I still feel badly about when I see them to this day – because even in a small way, my actions added to the moulding of their growing minds. My wounds from an absent father figure (or at this point, anyone that was able to teach me better) created wounds of their own outside of my body; but yet people think that we’re just here on earth to “live our own lives” as if our decisions – and wounds – don’t indirectly and even directly affect the lives of others.
But you know, YOLO…
*Cues The Motto by Drake*
