Everything flourishes in my hands
Here’s an excerpt from the resignation letter I sent to my new boss. Yes. My new boss.
“…while I appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me and the time you’ve invested in me thus far, your comment about expecting me to “grow out of” being an introvert struck me as insensitive and disrespectful. I’ve decided that this position and work environment aren’t a good fit for me.”
Yo… I started a 6 figure job on a Wednesday and quit the following Tuesday. From the first day, I have never felt so strongly that something wasn’t for me. There’s no amount of money that would make it worth being disrespected. And you should never convince yourself to stay somewhere you know you don’t belong.
I wonder if that’s how C felt with me. Was I always somewhere she just knew she didn’t belong? Did she feel a weight lifted off her shoulders when she resigned? I wish love were that simple. I wish I had more answers.
The other day, I made a mojito with mint that I grew myself. I seasoned my dinner with herbs that I grew myself. Everything flourishes in my hands. People included.
Last night at 1am, B told me that loving me is easy. Loving me is the easiest thing she does every day. Y’all… sometimes these things just write themselves.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again because I’ve been doing it even more often lately: I romanticize everything in my life. And it’s the best thing about me. I think of C every day and my heart hurts every day. But that’s okay.
I’ve been having slow, soft mornings, feeling the warmth of the Sun on my face. I’ve been eating ripe mangoes, letting the juices drip down my chin. I’ve been reading good morning texts, reading the classics, reading between the lines.
Today, I smell like citrus and saffron and black pepper. The sky is a shade of blue that I feel like I’ve never seen before. Every time the wind blows, I can feel each individual blade of grass brush against my skin.