The time has come. You never think you’re going to be one of the one’s affected by Trump’s “send them back to Mexico and let’s build a wall” deal. But here it is. Slapping me in the face, repeatedly. It’s really not fair to rip families apart just because they were not born here. If it doesn’t effect you personally, you probably don’t really give a shit, right? Now people that I truly love are leaving. My sister, my niece, my nephew. They’ll soon be gone and I will be here in this amazing, racist country, alone. Everything is just falling to pieces lately. I’ve gotten broken up with. I’m going to lose my job. And now I’m losing the little bit of family I have. What’s the fucking point anymore? Why do I continue to wake up in the morning and go to a job where my days are numbered? Why do I continue to hope that he’s going to come back? Why do I continue to be emotionally invested in my sister instead of distancing myself? Do I like this? This heartbreak? No, I don’t, actually. But here I am. Wishing and hoping and trying. Still here, loving people who don’t want to stay with me. Still here loving, even when I myself am not lovable. Still wishing, PRAYING, that I was good enough. For my job. For someone to stay. For someone, anyone, to love me unconditionally. Maybe I’m not meant to be with people.

The truth is, were all fuckups. We all hurt people, especially those that we love. But those fuckups are just a reminder that we are all human. Trying to be someone else, running away from yourself, it never works. It always brings you right back here.

Am I perfect? No. But I can tell you that I have good intentions. Is that enough? So far I’ve found that no. No, it’s not even close to being enough.

xoxo -B

One thought on “Deported.

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