I am the girl you can count on.
The girl who helps you move.
Picks you up from the airport.
The girl who buys you flowers.
The girl who makes you laugh when you are sad.
The girl who you can call in the middle of the night, to cry, scream, yell, be there, for you.
The one who will find you… if you go missing.
The girl who you can trust with your kids.
The one who loves you, for you.
Loyal
True
That girl.
I’ve never been fond of pop ins. Growing up I was never allowed to bring friends home after school. I’d open the door and yell out,”mom, are you naked?” Or Mom, Leisha is with me, can she come in?! The answer was always, the equivocal no. She’d, say, I don’t want strangers in the house. I also don’t ever recall having a sleep over or a slumber party throughout my teenage years. Don’t get me wrong, I could go to them, but couldn’t have them myself.
Strangely as I got older, I would have more and many people over. I’d throw parties in college and allow people to crash on my couch or dorm floor. The usual twenty something antics…however, as one female becomes more and more into fashion she has, shall we say, certain aspirations. Perhaps that’s not the word I am looking for. I started to get into my appearance.
You see having curly hair, naturally curly hair, causes it to be crazy in the morning. I am talking about…flat on the back, pushed to the side in the front, clownesque. I believe I just made up that word. So even the slightest thought of people popping by without me wearing makeup, or some various type of hair products to tame my curls wasn’t happening.
Years passed and I still would like some notice to spruce up the house and put together an ensemble. You know look pretty for me or them.
But lately I’ve craved a pop in from one individual…. its like I see myself in a Jane Austen novel but everyone is black with natural hair and I will sweetly say, ” do sit down”. He accepts and sits down like a proper gentleman. I come forth with a tray of tea… come on people! Beer. A tray of beer. I pour it sideways into a glass to have less foam.
He takes it.
He grabs my hand and says, Miss you are so thoughtful. I apologize for my pop in. I smile sweetly at him and say…. you can pop in anytime if you don’t mind my shabby appearance. He says, you’ve never looked lovelier.
Remember when you were with your partner for eight years and they adored you? They loved to talk to you every morning, send you sweet texts, call you on the way home from work but now they don’t.
Sex was on their mind, constantly. Okay that’s a lie. Mostly yours. Why, because you’re amazing!!
Bike rides, house help, drinks, live music, dinners…good conversation, mindfulness, care, all are gone.
Then things changed drastically. They have no time for you. Not even a text or a phone call. You live three blocks away and he couldn’t be bothered. He’s too busy for YOU. He’s gotten all he wants and now you’re difficult. Too demanding. Nothing.
It comes as a shock to be nothing after so many years.
Sorry folks but the breakup blog continues so settle in …it may be a few months for this gal to adjust to singledom.
But..in the end.. I am the lucky one. Free.
He wasn’t who I thought he was.
Sadly, it took me almost a decade to realize that.
No one reads this anyways…
If you do… I feel you slapping me.
I am awake and up.
No really.
I didn’t really know him.
I had for years wanted to be in my lovers world. By that I mean, getting the trips, a new car, the couple’s dinners, meeting old friends, family and neighbors etc.
It seemed ideal from the outside.
But then sad… as if he was happy, he wouldn’t have found me. Right?
And still keeps me around.
I finally had the opportunity last week to go THERE. It’s funny because after a break up , you try to stay friends and stay FRIENDLY. The thing is… do we really wanna see that world? We have been a secret for many years and even complained about it. The constant nagging of the lack of this and of that but who the fuck cares!
We are constantly told to want more. Go to college, get a good job, meet a nice partner, have kids, work harder, get a promotion, buy a house, get a nicer car. Work on finding someone to move forward to share a life with…etc, etc..blah blah blah.
However, no one ever says stay STILL? Are you happy? Does he make you happy? Friends have said, you deserve more..etc… but what if what you WANTED was enough? You can find your more.
You missed it. You miss the hand holding, the sex.. when you can get it. The days when he used to put his hands in your pants, like your smell, your taste, you smile, your jokes
They moved to friends mode.
You want to remain the lover, the confidant, the one. The nagging and challenges pushed him away.
Tasting the fruit was NOT for you.
The mistress is the only place I care to stay. No future, no nagging.
Just there.
If only friendship is available… she has to go, because that’s nit the role she wants to play.
It seems odd that she’s alone now. She had been with him for so many years. Celina loved to go out and drink Guinness and hear music with him. Her favorite thing was watching him sway side to side to the beat and now and again he would bump her thigh. You see “Luc” wasn’t a toucher. She wasn’t either but for some reason she loved touching him. The middle of his back, thigh, hands, hair….everything about him really.
Touching is such an intimate thing. It doesn’t need to be sensual. It can just mean, “hey, I am here for you?”
We see it as such a normal thing with a kiss in the morning and “I Love You” it’s as if it’s a routine that rolls off your lips. But do we really mean it. Some people don’t. It’s just a way of making them feel better about themselves if an accident happens to someone they love. In my family we MEAN it.
Ending things is rough. Why must we end things and have it be the norm? Its seen as a taboo if you’re not married or have kids in your forties. Maybe by the time you met the right one, they married early and never even heard of you. Maybe you never met anyone who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Maybe you’re a person of color and no one wants to settle down with you because of that factor.
She made the choice. She’s trying to accept things and move on.
But love is love.
How can you shut all that down overnight? You can’t.
You still want it.
Not like it was, because it was toxic. But you want it.
All things must end….but do they
have to?
Or can they go on in a different fashion?
That’s the question… with no answers.
I wrote thus last year and really liked it.
Remember that time when you were in elementary school and you were a bully. Not by choice but by reason. Someone was bothering you in class, like taking your books and playing keep away Or nicking your coat and throwing it over your head. After a few hours of this you’ve finally had enough.
Hey, Frankie! Meet me out on the playground at 3:10pm! You secretly tell your friends to jump Frankie, sooner. You set up a time and a meeting place earlier..but your friends don’t show up.
Remember last Friday night when you were out at a bar with your lover. You had three glasses of wine and dark stout beer and got wasted. You really felt on the walk home. At one point…you even yelled out mommy, like she was going to come out there and get you on that main street by the 76 gas station. You stumbled, took deep breaths and thought…who is the one person who will calm me down. Hello, technology!
You look up a number on viber.
Hello! Mia! I am drunk. Too drunk! Can you walk with me home?
Mia: Yes. He left you behind? Isn’t he trying to be friends with you?
Yep! He left me hanging.
If you are forty or older, single, sans children or not in a conventional relationship. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re normal because you’re different and followed your own path.
So often from childhood on we are raised to get out of college or marry in college (way too young if you ask me) and then find the perfect job and work there until you die. All along you’re having children with your spouse and living the so called American dream.
It is. It’s your dream. Own it. Live it.
The best thing about life is finding things that are new or something you’ve never tried before.
Remember the first time you rode a bike without your mum holding on to the seat running or the first time you cooked an egg sunny side up.
Two women. One was older by two years, Jewish, tired, toned due to Pilate’s, unhappy, a homebody, cared for and after by him. She loved her bed, and movie binging.
The other was a spunky ethnic gal, tall, a workaholic, loved by many, independent, murder she wrote watching, Guinness drinking, journal writing, loner who absolutely loved her man “Charlie”.
Charlie was a tall, drink of water. Charlie looked like everybody in this city on a bike. He was kind, caring, funny, but he didn’t care for the spunky gal. You see the older one had two sons with…who he adores, with that bond he would never leave her to be with the spunky gal. He would stay. With fake smiles and suffer.
One day she, the spunky gal, broke up with Charlie. You see she had done this before. On several occasions. But now she had been with Charlie for almost a decade….hidden..from the world. She was older and wiser. Sadly, even though she’s these things. To the outside world, she’s just considered old.
Done.
Expired milk.
One to not be in the dating world. At least not in our country.
In France she’d be hot, sexy, wanted fashionable not OLD.
Charlie in some ways caused this. He wanted to keep the spunky one around. To look at. To talk to. To call.
Sometime to touch.
All he really wanted was stability, the perfect picture he had so many years ago with the older one. The exciting love they once shared. But… it appeared she didn’t even like him..for who he had become. She liked what he did or does for her. The money, the cleaning, the shopping, the cooking, the friends, the traveling, the children. The life.
Not him.
The spunky gal loved and liked him. Didn’t want to change him. Loved the cooking, the shopping, the sex, the traveling, loved him. If she had the other things she would bask in his beauty.
But she doesn’t.
She will go on…..Charlie will stay proving to himself….she will one day love him again like she did 23 years ago. She will be nicer to him in the future. She won’t..
Once upon a time there was just a spunky gal.
Tonight I feel alone ..not lonely.
I’ve heard the saying a lot.
It’s Xmas eve and I don’t think anyone reads these so WTF!
She just got back from a trip to the west coast to see her aging mother and older brother. She drove for three days to get there through snow and terrible rain. She did nothing but think about him. Her mother. Her job. Her choices. Her family. Her goals.
Why it seems like she’s not loved? She listened to Dust by Patricia Cornwall on CD. She didn’t really like it. She felt like the writing was poor, confusing out of sync. The reading was poor and she only got engaged while driving in snow through the pass with her hazards on in her 2015 Prius.
For most adoptees they usually always feel alone. She has no kids and after spending years with same person, it appears that, they don’t love each other anymore. Or perhaps. She loves him more than he will ever love her. It used to be okay. But now it isn’t.
She knows that.
She has these dreams of them holding hands in Paris. Sitting on the plane with them and gently sleeping on their shoulder. Watching them sleep. Growing old with them. Him making her feel special. She thought about this. Hoping on the long drive they would be by her side. She realized she was sick of doing things alone.
So on Xmas eve while he’s faking smiles or maybe not, she’s alone.
She knows she’ll be ok. She knows that its better to be wanted and alone.
To be touched. Loved.
She’ll never be lonely. She has too many friends all over the world.
So on this holiday think about how your loved and not alone.
Be you…
theotherblackwoman 