Whirlwind

30

They used to always throw the saying, 'never break a woman's heart' around but never explained why. It was almost as if the meaning behind it was implied, and as a man you just had to go with the flow and comply. Automatically one could assume it is to save her from the pain, the loss and the need to now start over in love. While others may assume it's for unknown motives a man will never fully understand and not stated above.

The real reason is because a woman with a broken heart is a storm in the making.

One with whipping winds like the emotional beating she's been taking. Merciless turbulence like the turmoil you put her through, and heavy rainfall equivalent to the tears her eyes brewed.

The most important reason of them all is that the ending is always toxic. Once it all has ceased and the remnants of this hysterical maelstrom you created are left scattered, you're actually the one left battered. She may have wept for weeks, months and even prayed for some kind of miracle, yet ironically you're the one suffering with karma and left feeling pitiful.

So this is a warning to all men who are stirring up a whirlwind. They said never break a woman's heart, because when it's all said and done you're the one whose life really falls completely and utterly apart.

- a man hit by karma

                                                                    ———–

[Lamarr]

New York City was the last place I wanted to be right now.

If I could I would stay in North Carolina for the remainder of my time left on this Earth, and in doing that I wouldn't have one ounce of regret. I had my reasons as to why, one being I wanted to maintain this sense of solace I was injected with by being back in the company of my mother and all the other things that make the southern state home for me. Another was because I finally felt like Lamarr again. I felt like I had reversed the hands of time and was now reliving life back in the early two-thousands, where my family was struggling but I still had a peace of mind. With a lack of many things I was still a happy adolescent, and the only worry on my mind was making my biggest accomplishment, almost unfathomable dream to many matter. Life only consisted of me running around the Ville with a shit load of freedom, and not even a mere thought of how different, almost abstract and now sub-par my future would be.

I had been traveling back and forth from Fayetteville to Charlotte for over a week now, an additional one aside the first where I spent all my time working on the album. I dodged phone calls, abandoned emails and social apps, and simply focused on myself. I'm sure if it weren't for the reassurance of my mother, everyone probably figured I was dead. In actuality I was hiding, avoiding my reality while simultaneously trying to make sense of it. That being that these last three years, outside my career, consisted of nothing but lies. Many of which were my own but who knew that the others were Melanie's.

The idea was puzzling to me and threw me completely off track every time I asked myself how? How could Melanie hide shit from me? How could she be so vindictive? Even if her actions stemmed from me, I still never imagined she had it in her to do the shit Ry mentioned, behind my back. Now I was creating a list of other things she could possibly be capable of and they were all making me sick; making me confused as hell and angry as fuck.

But nevertheless I was back in New York, the devil's fuckin' playground, to approach my problems head on...all of them. Then after I would maybe come back home.

"Your ass finally decided to come out of hiding." I couldn't even get a simple hello or top of the morning to you. Instead I got Mike's smart ass who was leaned against what looked to be a rental truck. He had his arms folded and a smirk stuck on his face as I adjusted the hood over my head, and glanced around the curbside waiting for a proper greeting.