Luis Pabon

Every day, I sit and watch my ideas come to the table and gradually disintegrate under intense scrutiny and suspicion. This is a table I now refer to as “a place where ideas come to die”. It is a table that resembles Black American life.

Truth is this: People come and go. You may have some people in your life who are occasional friends, only good for “certain occasions”, but overall, you are your own multi-purpose friend.

Your friends are supposed to be your lifeline, your port in the storm, your healing. They are supposed to grant you peace, not be the architects of your agony.

Forgiving yourself means understanding that you did the best you could with what you knew at the time.

You are always the one that has to do all the calling, all the texting, all the reaching out.

How they discuss their last breakup can be a window of insight into their readiness to invest in you. 

Your life demands a certain level of prudence and caution and it demands that you not settle for less just to avoid loneliness.

I realize that I oftentimes built relationships with people based on my desperation and not my destination.

Truth is, it’s hard having to be your own safety net and having to catch yourself at every turn.

After coming face to face with these realizations, I emerged a stronger, wiser and better man.

By traditional standards, I would be considered beautiful.

Every part of me wants to call you and ask how you are doing and really mean it.