4/20/2010
You know what today is? 4/20! And you know what we did too. Celebrate! Mekka said it really does ease her pain but I just wanted to hear that laugh that I love as she blazed one for the NATION. Cancer is cruel. I’m not sure which is harder to deal with, my mom not ever coming back or watching this disease literally destroy the woman I love.
4/24/2010
Mekka went to the hospital this morning and it’s not looking good. I asked her to hold my hands and let me pray with her. I was surprised when she did. This whole time she’s been sick, I’ve been trying to get her to pray. She must really be scared to finally give in. God please let her be all right.
5/10/2010
I’ve been here at the hospital everyday for the last week and a half. Mekka is still fighting. She’s hanging in there. Yesterday she asked for a sketchpad and she drew a picture of two hands praying with handcuffs on, and their fingernails were long, wiggly, snakes with a key hanging from one of the tips. She named it “Constance’s Way to Heaven via Hell” because she said that she got what she wanted but she had to kill herself to get it. Now this one wasn’t half bad. It wasn’t as sacrilegious as the others were. I must admit, I actually liked it. I’m going to buy a frame for it after I leave the hospital.
6/05/2010
Wow! What a difference a year makes. Mekka passed on to Glory the next day after she drew that sketch. Her wishes were to be cremated and have her ashes scattered over the Pacific Ocean. Of course I didn’t listen to her. Her death still hit me like a ton of bricks even though I had been anticipating it for a while. I just couldn’t see getting rid of them so I bought a beautiful urn and kept them at home.
I had a therapy session yesterday and my therapist told me I should honor her wishes simply because she would have honored mine, complete with the COGIC ceremony and all.
So today, I went out on a yacht, spread her ashes across the ocean as I listen to a podcast of Luther Luffeigh’s Phone Taps, and smiled while remembering her laughter. I also reached in my pocket and tossed the rock I had been carrying every day to help me deal with Mekka’s battle with Cancer.
I will always love Mekka and I will never forget the impact she’s made on my life. She made me realize that I could love a woman the way a woman should be loved despite the fact that we didn’t agree about God, I hated her art, and I knew she was going to leave me. She also helped me realize that her beautiful personality, her intellect, her smile and that laugh was enough to help me get over my pain and live a normal and productive life. For that, she will always hold a special place in my heart.
Despite how Mekka felt, her grandmother was right when she said that sometimes people come into your life for a reason and some for a season. I’ve made a commitment to myself to enjoy life despite my circumstances because life is much too short to let it pass you by. I’m learning to love myself. I’ve discovered that I am a good man and a good person and I deserve to be happy as both. Whatever happened to my mother had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her. I just hope in my heart that nothing bad happened to her and that wherever she is she’s happy and healthy because I am. I am finally able to forgive her either way.
I have finally evolved into a man capable of living, loving, and enjoying life. Thank you Mekka. May God rest your crazy, artsy, beautiful soul.
CHAPTER 15 – TIRED
Tired
Tired of hoping that you’ll call,
But knowing that you won’t.
Tired of wishing that you loved me
But knowing that you don’t.
Tired of wondering and praying
That someday I’ll be your lover.
Tired of not knowing where I stand
Being classified as other.
Tired of being second best
And always taking a back seat.
Tired of telling myself
That that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
Tired of pretending like I understand
When you don’t return my calls.
Tired of keeping my feelings in check
While someone else has it all.
Tired of half truths
And the game’s inconsistencies.
Tired of feeling like
You’re not really diggin’ me.
Tired of losing hours
Trying to figure out what to do.
Tired of all the sleepless nights
With my dreams consumed with you.
Tired of lying to myself
By pretending we’re just friends.
Tired of wanting you and needing you
To put my misery to an end.
Tired of being patient
Waiting on you to come around.
Tired of holding back my tears
And turning my frown up side down.
Tired of you being my soul mate
While you’re still with your baby’s momma.
Tired of avoiding the bullshit
And not causing any drama.
Tired of imaginary lines
Being drawn in the sand.
Tired of wanting you to touch me
Even more tired of “I can’t”.
Tired of trying to justify
Your lack of consideration.
Tired of hearing about you
And your girl’s triggeration.
Tired of stolen moments
Whenever YOU get time.
Tired of being your little secret
Playing by your rules not mine.
Tired as hell of the stress
Within this hurtful situation.
Tired of boundaries and rules
And abiding by stipulations.
Tired of being sick and tired
Tired of my soul on fire.
Tired of unrequited desire
I’m tired, just simply, TIRED.
CHAPTER 16 – THANK YOU LETTER TO MY BABY DADDY
Thank You Letter to My baby Daddy
08/03/2009
Dear J Mac,
My mom and dad would like to take the kids school shopping. Can you please send about $1000 for them?
Love,
Sharay
Jonathan McKinister Associates &
Management Company Inc.
Wilshire Business Center
3441 Wilshire Boulevard, 3rd Floor
Los Angeles, CA 90005
(323) 555 – 2519
August 10, 2009
Central California Women’s Facility
Sharay Harris, 514545
P.O. Box 1508
Chowchilla, CA 93610
Dear Ms. Harris,
This letter is to inform you that the money that you have requested was delivered to your parents on 08/06/09. If Mr. McKinister can assist the children in any other way, please do not hesitate to contact him at the address or phone number above.
Sincerely,
Aubrey Davies
Executive Assistant
JMMAC
09/22/2009
Dear Jonathan,
I’ve been blowin that number up but your assistant never lets me talk to you. The least you could do is take my calls, punk ass. I still love and miss you though. Have that bitch send me some money.
Love,
Sharay
Jonathan McKinister Associates &
Management Company Inc.
Wilshire Business Center
3441 Wilshire Boulevard, 3rd Floor
Los Angeles, CA 90005
(323) 555 – 2519
September 28, 2009
Central California Women’s Facility
Sharay Harris, 514545
P.O. Box 1508
Chowchilla, CA 93610
Sharay Baby,
I’ve been really busy trying to run my business and I don’t have time for your shenanigans and schemes. I sent you $500 via jpay yesterday and by the time you get this kite, the kids will be living with me part time. I’ve decided to share custody of the kids with
your parents, meaning you’re going to have to find somebody else to run game on and ask for money. I’m sorry for all the bad shit and pain that I’ve caused you. I know I fucked up and I regret that I treated you the way I did. I hope that one day you’ll find it in my heart to forgive me. I wish you all the best. I still love you and I always will.
Love,
J Mac
11/26/2009
Dear J Mac,
Fuck You Jonathan, Damn nigga! You ain’t shit. You had your assistant stop accepting my calls like I’m just some common street bitch. Nigga, I MADE YOU! You know my parents cut me off and I don’t have nobody else. But since today is Thanksgiving, I guess I should thank you for the money you sent 2 months ago.
Thank You for lying to me all the time. Thanks for not telling me about your daughter who was born a few months after we met and is now 6 years old. Thanks for still fucking your ex’s…shit, both of them while you were in a relationship with me. Thanks for never introducing me to your mother. Thanks for making me feel like you were grossed out by me while I was pregnant even though you were really on the internet searching for pussy…on my birthday. Thanks for not telling me Happy Birthday or not buying me a gift. Thanks for always being there for me when I really needed you, like when I was laying in pain on the delivery table having the twins. You were curled up on the couch like a selfish asshole complaining about the punk ass flu while I was having contractions about to have my pussy open up so that our baby could be born.
Thanks for being there and being supportive. Thanks for letting me go to work and pay all the bills while you stayed at home watching SportsCenter all fucking day. Hell, thanks for ALWAYS being supportive, like the time you suggested I DON’T pay my bills so that I could pay for you and your son to go to a fucking basketball tournament in Texas. You stole from me just to make sure that trip happened and now look at yall…you and your son don’t
even talk.
Thanks for being dick juice…You got that down to a science. Thanks for sitting on your ass sleeping all day and jacking off to pay-per-view pussy all night while I stressed at the 3-Day notice we just got. Thanks for suggesting that instead of pawning the DVD player to get money to pay court fees, that I just suck it up and get a warrant. Thanks for always having my best interest at heart.
Thanks for loving me. You loved me so much yo dumb ass had yo bitch take pictures of you eating her pussy and you left your email open for me to find. You loved me so much that even after I bleached and cut up your ENTIRE WARDROBE you still won’t leave me alone…don’t love me enough to make things right and don’t hate me enough to let me go.
Thanks for NEVER complimenting me even though your best friend does all the time…letting me know that he couldn’t wait for you to fuck up so that he can step to me. He texts me and your other baby mama often, waiting for one of us to give up the ass. He tells me constantly how I’m so sexy that I make his dick jump and how he wants to suck my pussy and laugh about it behind your back. He brags about how he wants to make me so wet that I would have to wear panty liners for the rest of my life…Some friend, huh?
Thanks for being a selfish asshole. Thanks for NEVER taking me or my feelings into consideration. Thanks for NEVER taking me anywhere in public because you scared we will run into one of your bitches, you know, you told me you had a whole “stable of bitches”. Thanks for coming home at 4 in the morning and getting an attitude with me like I was the one who crept in the bedroom that late. FUCK YOU! Thanks for not being able to Man-Up when I needed you to. Like when you sold your truck for $15,000 and we were on the verge of getting put out and you didn’t give me $50 let alone pay the rent so we could keep the house. You never, ever stood by my side or took the man- reigns when I needed you to, did you? Like the time when your ex called me and told me my whole life story, intimate shit that I only shared with you, and when I confronted you about it, you pussied out and said, “Fuck Both of Yall!” Yeah, that was some real bitchassness, now wasn’t it?
Thanks for disrespecting me…repeatedly…I think I’m used to it now, that’s why I stop saying anything… It’s what I’ve come to expect from you. You are so fucking full of shit that I don’t even get upset anymore. Thanks for ALWAYS having all 3 of your cell phones on silent or vibrate. Thanks for going in the bathroom to take a shit and call your other bitches…like I don’t know that’s who you’re talking to. Thanks for not remembering or celebrating our Anniversary. Thanks for acting like I don’t exist. Thanks for making me feel invisible. The cool part about feeling invisible is when I ignore you when you’re upset, and you keep asking me what’s wrong and I sit there like a stone faced Buddhist monk, I feel like I’m giving you exactly what you want, ya dig?
Thank you for making me feel unappreciated. I cook, clean, wash yo draws, suck yo dick, and pay the bills without so much as a nod from you. Thank you for making me feel like I’m not good enough. No matter how hard I tried to do right by you, none of my efforts were good enough. Thank you for NEVER acknowledging the fact that I’ve been the bread winner practically our whole relationship. I made more money, I held us down when you didn’t have a job and when you DID have a job. You have come to depend on me like I’m yo mama and not yo baby’s mama.
Thank you for putting your hands on me when you get upset. Thanks for choking me and putting your hands around my throat. Thanks for slamming me up against the wall, or the bed, or the refrigerator, or whatever random piece of furniture was in the way at the time. Thanks for slapping me in the face as hard as you could. Did it make you feel like a strong ass man? Cause it didn’t make me feel like a weak ass woman. Nigga. Thanks for spitting in my face. Only a real BITCH would do some nasty, ass, disrespectful shit like that. The funny thing about that is afterwards, you tried to make me feel like I was wrong. CLASSIC JOHNATHAN! You disrespect me, threatened me by saying, “Bitch, I’ll fuck you up!” and then spit in my face. Now, just what exactly did you think was going to happen? Didn’t expect me to slap yo ass so hard you would be tasting my fingernails for 2 weeks huh? Thanks for making me cry…ALL THE TIME.
Sometimes I don’t know if I’m crying because of all these things I’m thanking you for, or if I’m crying in spite of all these things I’m thanking you for. But nonetheless, I wanted to personally Thank You, so that I could forgive you, move on, and write the next chapter of my life…without you. Oh yeah…this is my last letter until I touch down.
All this time, I thought that no matter what we went through, that we would always love each other and have each other’s back. But I see that was all just some fantasy shit that I made up in my head. Happy Thanksgiving.
Love Always,
Sharay Harris
Jonathan McKinister Associates &
Management Company Inc.
Wilshire Business Center
3441 Wilshire Boulevard, 3rd Floor
Los Angeles, CA 90005
(323) 555 – 2519
December 9th, 2010
Central California Women’s Facility
Sharay Harris, 514545
P.O. Box 1508
Chowchilla, CA 93610
Damn Babe,
Wow! As I sit here reading your Thank You Letter, I can’t even do nothing but shake my head in agreement. Everything you said was the truth and I deserved that. I can’t front, I fucked up, and I truly am sorry for fucking up your life and putting you through so much unnecessary pain. But even though I messed up, you played your part too. Don’t act like I was the only one fucking up and living recklessly by myself.
So you’re welcomed! You’re welcomed for forgiving me and us moving past all the shit that I’ve done to you. Since then, we’ve had twin girls and I don’t regret my babies but I do regret that we weren’t in a better position to be better parents for them. You thought that I didn’t want them cause I asked about getting an abortion. I only asked the question as an option, I never wanted you to go through with it. You’re welcomed for lying to me pretending that you did get an abortion knowin
g good and hell well you had every intention on trying to trap me. You’re welcome for keeping that money and not even going to the clinic at all that day. You’re welcomed for me even allowing you to get your so called revenge on me. Sweetie, I’ve always wanted my babies and if you thought having them was going to piss me off, it didn’t. They’ve changed me. So you’re welcomed for bearing all 3 of my children because I’ve since realized that my foolish and immature ways needs to cease if I expect to set an example for my children. I would never want any of my daughters to experience the bullshit that I’ve put you through. So you’re welcome for showing me that I needed to GROW SOME NUTS and MAN THE FUCK UP!
Yeah, I was sorry and I still am for all the shit I’ve done but that was no excuse for you to start fucking my cousin, now was it? Fuck him. You’re welcomed for me not giving a fuck that you started chasing after celebrity dick just because my cousin introduced you to a few Hollywood D-Listers. Oh, you thought I didn’t know? He told me how he introduced you to those wack ass niggas from Rhyme-Bandits and how they paid you to suck every dick in the room. You’re welcomed for me not beating the brakes off yo as when you told me we had clap. You’re welcomed for me staying at home taking care of the kids while you rode around town being a SLUT, getting drunk and high with your hoodrat friends acting like you don’t have a care or responsibility in the world. You’re welcome that I cared enough to STILL try to work shit out even after we both realized that hurting each other by fucking other people wasn’t the biz.
Urban Diaries Page 10