I’m Not Good Enough

One of the most regretful times in my life was when I abandoned ramen noodles. I went a solid 2 years strong without ever touching them or really even looking in there general direction. This time of life was so regretful for me mostly because I had tricked myself into thinking I was happy. I had tricked myself into thinking I was too good for ramen noodles. I saw my life moving in a direction where I would no longer need ramen noodles. If it was anyone’s fault, it was ramen noodles’. They got me here. THEY did this to me. I saw what I wanted in my life and eating ramen noodles wasn’t really in the game plan. I knew what I wanted my meals to be and I saw absolutely none of those qualities in ramen noodles.

After those 2 solid years I kind of don’t know what happen. I got outrageously drunk one night in a dorm room and of course, I got hungry. Even more of course, the only thing they had was ramen noodles. But instead of them offering, this time I had actually asked “Aye, you got some noodles?” Now over the course of this 2 year span, I had come face-to-face with ramen noodles at least a hundred times and we engaged in battle every single time. My curve game was superior. But this time something was just…different. I had eaten chicken noodles a zillion times, but I had never actually craved the shits ya know?

So I make the noodles and take the first bite into them and I swear to God everything just becomes clear as fuck to me. I realized I have had the wrong mindset on noodles my whole life. I was always determined in thinking noodles weren’t good enough for me, but the reality of it was….I am the one that wasn’t good enough for the noodles. Noodles had always been there for me. Like I deadass think that’s the first thing I ever learned how to make for myself. When I ain’t ever have shit? Noodles were there for me. They never judged me for being broke as fuck. They ain’t never look at me and say “I know what I want out of the person who eats me and I see absolutely none of those qualities in you.” They never did anything but hold me down and I was just ungrateful as fuck about it. And even when I was ungrateful, they still held me down. Now that’s love. Why should the noodles have even loved me so much? I never did anything to them, but look down on them and tell them how they wouldn’t ever amount to shit one day. All I did when I looked at them was thought about how I much rather wished they were a steak. I finally got that steak and realized, I don’t even like steak wtf? All I did was think about how I would never ever stoop to such a low point in my life like going back to eating noodles again because I truly felt in my heart me and noodles didn’t belong together and we would never work out. And still those noodles looked at me, understood I was an idiot and didn’t know any better, and they still loved the fuck out of me.

I eat noodles by choice now. These days, I’m happy with them. It’s not really about the “I used to eat ramen noodles and now I eat whateverthefuckrichpeopleeat story” we all hope to tell some day. I want to be rich and still eat ramen noodles. For me it’s much more about telling the “being appreciative of what held me the fuck down” story. The noodles were the ones there for me during all my best times. They were there for me for the good days. They were there for me for the bad days. They were there for me and probably always will be. And no matter how big I get or where I go in life, I’ll probably still think that as far as ramen noodles are concerned I’m not good enough…

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