You can always remember what you did last year at Valentine’s Day. I clicked back on my journal to read what I wrote here in my journal last year, just to see what I was thinking. That’s one thing I cherish about this journal, I can go back and see where I’ve been, and get an insight on where I’m going.

I spent an hour reading things I wrote…things I don’t even recall writing. I must’ve written it, I know I went through that. But memories evolve as time passes. We have a choice how we remember our past. I had forgotten some of the junk I’ve gone through.

The last few years of my life have been everything but ordinary. I went on The Real World and every part of my life flipped upside down. Being “me” meant something new, even if it is still the same me. I’ve been infatuated and heart-broken. I worked my tail off to finish college, then left a city that I loved. I’ve been devastated. I survived then thrived in New York City. I lived in Harlem and made great friends. I’ve banged through every nightclub, met so many women. I’ve lapped this country hundreds of times and spoken to countless audiences. I’ve been to more beaches, seen such hurt, slept in the strangest places…

Now I am pushing a mega-website from the middle of the desert, pouring all I have into what I have absolute faith will make the world a better place. I still lap the country like there’s no tomorrow. My friends are stable, responsible people. I am around families again. I bought a new car and then a house. A few months later, this house is still mostly empty because I am never here. I am lying in bed, and it’s the only thing in this room. My sleeping bag from Boy Scouts is keeping me warm.

I didn’t know a stable life would feel like this. It’s wonderful…the stress, heartache, and jitters are gone. Maintaining stability isn’t a full-time job, and I can put my energy elsewhere. But, those experiences, through hell and back, were good for me. Those lonely loud subway rides that traced my prayers beneath the city…

Who knows where my life will go, what people I’ll meet, or what adventures wait for me. There are thousands of canvases waiting for paint, thousands of people needing to be hugged. I’ll have to tie my shoes each morning, take out the trash, and iron my clothes. That’s part of the adventure too. Through it all, I just have to let God love me.

(I don’t know you and I’ll probably never meet you. I write this on a cold night in the desert, alone in my room. It’s not important why you came to this website. I don’t know where you’ve been, how you’ve suffered or how you’ve laughed. Know this: God loves you. His love is waiting for you every moment of your life. We are in this life together. We were never meant to make it on our own. Let God love you.)