I’m a mess right now. My ulcerated stomach hurts; the gnash-gnawing pain is keeping me up at night. I’m living on very small sporadic meals, rice protein shakes, and vitamins. Still, I’m taking full advantage of my weakened appetite and hitting the gym harder to lose a few pounds of fat and pull myself closer to being in perfect shape for my 30th birthday. Kind of sick, I know. I feel like a model that swallows a tapeworm to stay thin. This shit stops today. After all, I’m far too old and too dark to develop an eating disorder.
And….I lost a friend this week. A very important and close friend. I lost him, but he’s still alive. Just dead to me.
Our bromance was legendary, built on a mutual understanding of being broken and fucked up in unique ways. We traveled all over together. He exposed me to so much. But we were opposites. He is white, I am black. He is rich, and I am poor. He believed in the power of belief and I believed in the reality of people. I was young, he was old. I have to admit that I did love him, not in a romantic way, but in the way you love an eccentric uncle. In the way you love a good friend.
I made the choice to end our friendship because our differences finally became problematic. I have enough to deal with and he was not supportive. Lately he had become my ultimate naysayer, my brick wall of negativity. Toxic friends, even ones that spend thousands of dollars on you, are still toxic. In order to grow, I need to surround myself with people who aren’t so broken. While it’s sad to lose a friend, it doesn’t phase me. In this life I’ve lost and gained, and in the end, it doesn’t make sense to keep people around that are not on your team, point blank period. Your squad, the people you value most, has got to be on point. Otherwise, it’s time for them to go.
Now it’s time to drink the rest of my gritty rice protein shake and get my arse into work. Laters.