So where have I been?
To answer this question, I shall pick up where the last post concluded - mourning the loss of a new relationship that ended abruptly without any warning...
The day started the same as most others... I went to work, came home and spoke with Leo before going for a run. We agreed to talk again before bed, and so, later that night, I showered and climbed into bed filled with excitement to speak with him again. He told the strangest stories, but an impeccable storyteller, I couldn’t get enough of them – that, and the fact that I had developed a massive crush on him. Instead, I was greeted with a text from him telling me that he was moving on, and wished me a happy life.
I stared at the text long into the night, thinking that he must've accidentally sent me a message meant for the floozy he was seeing before he met me. Not so. I plummet from the exhilaration of what I felt was a budding love affair into a debilitating sense of loss all at once.
I did not walk away. You see, he was familiar to me - our attraction came infused with a magnetic force that demanded further exploration, and which I cannot explain and could not ignore. And so, I broke one of my cardinal rules not to chase after an explanation from men when they make such decisions. But I could not help myself. I called him up to ask the dreaded question, why?
"I'm not good for you," he said. "But I've missed you terribly. And I wish I hadn't done that,"
And so we began again. We walked into each other's lives as if there was no other way to be - clinging to, enticed, smitten, we moved in perfect rhythm the way young lovers discovers and explores love.
There was a feeling of timelessness about us - like a mirror, we reflect back at each other - we smelled like each other, tasted like each other - shared similar, yet differing perspectives that challenged each other - and fucked with the same unchecked intensity. Both hopeless dreamers, we dreamt and planned the life we wanted to live. One in which we would chase our dreams, live our full potential, support each other through the good, bad, and ugly moments in life. We would travel, laugh, cry, raise cats and grow old - together.
But there were challenges as there are in every relationship - communication issues, frustration from not enough time spent together, some tantrums here and there on both ends, past relationship conflicts, though neither of us had any reason to doubt our commitment to the relationship - challenges that I'm not convinced we could not overcome.
Unlike the uncertainty and confusion that I shared with Clark, who could not decide if he was capable of sharing anything deeper than sex with a woman at this point in his life, Leo and I had no doubt that we wanted to be in a relationship of substance with each other - one that stands on a foundation of love, commitment, passion, respect, and loyalty.
I do not judge Clark's inability to be in a committed relationship. He was contending with two failed marriages, and healing takes time. I've been at this emotionally bankrupt place in my life too when lost moments in sexual bliss was all I could afford to give to a man. But I've since evolved beyond the need to fuck for the sake of fucking - and no longer derived any pleasure beyond the brief physical moment, but which would leave me racked with emotional and spiritual self-mutilated shame. And so, I moved on.
The deception with which my relationship with Michael ended was coffined and buried like the dead. I honored the time we shared yes, but chose not to retain or bring anything from our past into my present. That he cheated on me, got engaged to the woman with whom he cheated and didn't tell me, yet kept coming to my bed while they planned their wedding - distorted everything I believed about him and our relationship. I was not sure what, if any, of the time we spent together was real.
I had grown intolerant of men who comes with nothing but cock and lies and deception. Many dragging their past like an infectious disease into their present - contaminating what could be the relationship with the one who was truly meant to be. And these broken relationships, I observed, was an epidemic. It's outrageous to me that so many expects a woman to share with them her deepest self - to touch and taste her - to lose and find themselves inside her, and yet give so little of who they are in return.
I am certain that my right man is out there in this vast universe looking for me too -and he is capable of loving absolutely, and wants to be loved absolutely in return. He's like me, he cannot settle for less than an epic love affair.
And so, I forgave all the bad decisions and mistakes that resulted in harm to others and myself. Packed away my past hurt, and dissolved any negative experience and emotions that would hinder me from moving forward. And when all the dust cleared, I stepped out into the world again in search of my true love. I stood clear in mind and thought and action as I had ever been. A pristine human being built from a collage of all the hurt and pain and loss that life dealt me. I had learned what I wanted from having experienced what I did not want.
That's when I found Leo in a poem he wrote about the woman of his dreams. "She" And it seemed as if he had snuck into my mind and stolen my desires from my secret chest of the man I wanted to one day meet and build a life. And he was that man who gave every breath he breathed into me and wanted everything I had in return.
That's where I've been for the last several months - working on my Ph.D. in Community Psychology and exploring love. Ironically, I'm back in the same place that the last post ended.
Jen stood in front of me holding a banana that she peeled all the way down, pointing it at her thick red lips like a cock she was getting ready to ravage - this lewd behavior was an attempt to cheer me up.
And if I weren't severely wounded, feeling closer to death than alive, I would have said something smart, but I just stared at her and started to cry. She set the banana on the table and held me. And I wept on her large buxom the way I did the morning Leo and I said goodbye for the last time - standing under the big Oak tree in the neighborhood I'm sure we once lived in another time - beneath a cheap, flimsy black umbrella that if only briefly sheltered us from sleet and the moment that was to follow. I wept on his chest for the life we planned that would never be.
He lifted my tear drenched face to his - he seemed so calm in that moment when I was falling apart, "I am not good for you. Loving you and wanting to keep you is a selfish act," he said, reminding me why I so fiercely love him. If he believed that he was so far gone, and there was no hope for his affliction, he would not have been able to reach that conclusion.
Both hopeless romantics at heart - some may say that Leo and I moved too fast too soon. Perhaps - but there was no other way for us to be. We cannot part now even as we are apart. In the end, we simply failed to let love be.
Khalil Gibran said, "When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caress your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth..."