The Ultimate Break up

I’m listening to Adele and crying. It’s 7:23PM on a Sunday night, and this Milky Way is the only thing keeping my company. No one ever told me that it was going to be this hard. Or maybe they tried to, but I didn’t think it would be this hard for me, after all, it was my decision. I’m a strong person. I bounce back quickly. I try not to get too attached, and don’t really give my heart away easily. But I guess I got comfortable. It was safe to stay; I liked them enough. But there came a point where I could no longer lie to myself; I had to get out. It wasn’t a healthy relationship anymore, and so I called it quits on the only stability I had in my life. I broke up with my Sugar Daddy. I quit my day job.

It wasn’t an easy decision to come to. I agonized over it for weeks not knowing if I was making the right choice. My Sugar Daddy started to notice, I could tell. There was a shift. I wasn’t as into the relationship as I once was and they wanted me to do things that I wasn’t that keen on exploring, but every Friday like clockwork I would look at my bank account and think, “I can make it one more week. Just one more.”

My other relationships became strained. My family saw that I was unhappy; they told me that I was too young to feel this stuck. My friends didn’t think that I was as present as I once was, and I started to feel like I was missing out on other opportunities. I needed something that fed my passion. And so I broke it off.

It was a slow transition. You can’t just end a year relationship in a day. Things need to be taken care of, bows need to be tied. I wanted to try to make the friendship work, so I hung around for two weeks. It was the right thing to do. Tuesday, the 4th, was my final goodbye. Nothing really prepares you for it. I packed up a box of my things, left my key on my desk, and tried not to look back. I wouldn’t let them see my tears. I wouldn’t let my fear of being alone stop me.

Wednesday was actually okay. I felt strong and independent, dare I say, free. My friend took me to the Korean Spa. It felt nice to actually think about myself for a change. I laid on the hot stones and read BJ Novak’s One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories at two in the afternoon, something that my Sugar Daddy never would have approved of.

But I’m not going to lie, those feelings were short lived. I tried to set up a casual date, that I could see twice a week, but that ended quickly after I was screamed at for no reason other than this date’s resentment toward past relationships. They questioned my commitment level and yelled about how no one was reliable. It was a complete turn off. I mean, we hadn’t even known each other for a day. This, coupled with their clinginess, forced me to leave. Add a squawking bird to that, literally this rebound had a really angry bird, and it was apparent that it wasn’t going to last. I should have known that you can’t just replace an old flame like that.

I started to miss my Sugar Daddy a lot. I contemplated calling and begging for my position back. I rehearsed my speech, I would tell them that I’d do anything to be comfortable. They may not be right for me, but they kept me safe, you know? At least I knew what to expect there. And in my own special way, I had loved them.

I knew that wasn’t an option though. My mom has always told me that I have to dive my plan and plan my dive, and so that’s what I am attempting to do. I’m in this new abyss, clinging on to hope that it will get better. I mean, it has to, right? I’ve laughed. I’ve cried. I’ve felt very uncomfortable in social situations. I’ve wanted to kill people who love me for no reason other than annoyance and misplaced anxiety. I’ve wanted to be alone. I’ve wanted to be surrounded by people. I’ve wanted to buy a puppy. I’ve wanted to get ten tons of chocolate and make love to it. I’ve wanted to try prostitution because at least you’re getting paid and getting off (sometimes). But I’ve realized that I have to start thinking about the things that make me happy and then putting myself out there. Slowly. And so, I’m starting with this article.

My name is Khalehla, I’m 23 years old and have a college degree. I really don’t know what the future holds, but I do dream. I have a production company, Boy Drama Productions, with one of my best friends. People say that I’m a pretty good writer, and I’m starting to believe them. I’m really great at coordinating shoots, and lunch orders, and I promise I can make you laugh. I hope to one day write and produce for television and film, but for now I could produce your funny web video, or get an actress a latte with special instructions. I have a lot of skills in production, and if you’d give me a chance, I think we could make a great team. It doesn’t have to be too serious, we just have to be honest about where we are and where we’re going. If we can do that, then I think we could make each other really happy. I guess, what I’m trying to ask is, do you need a freelancer? Date me.

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Khalehla is very bad at writing her own biography and always thinks about the fact that people write these biographies in third person. When Khalehla reads said biographies she often sighs, "I know you wrote this." Khalehla is a writer, producer, performer, and artist who currently lives in Los Angeles, California. She is 1/2 of the bitch faced female comedy duo behind Boy Drama Productions. The other bitch face is Cait Raft. She is currently working on many projects, including the random acts of kindness collective, #LoveAlways, with Natalie Patterson and has too many ideas to hold in her brain. She'd like to write for television soon, so if you can get her a job, do that. She doesn't like wine as much as the picture above suggests, but if you ever happen to buy her a bottle, she prefers moscato d'asti. She loves anything and anyone who can make her laugh. She falls in love daily. If you give her cheese she will probably marry you, if she hasn't already married herself.

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