…life from my perspective
I am scared shitless. Yeah I said it. At least I admitted it. What shortcomings can you own up to? Falling in love is the one thing that I am afraid of. Not afraid like folks were over the manufactured H1N1 scare, but afraid enough that I ease up if I sense it coming my way. I can’t quite put my finger on it but it gives me pause. Sure I’ve been there once or twice or three times before and my experiences have shown me that people aren’t what they’re cracked up to be – myself included. Each time I visited the love thing, I added more layers to the point that now I’m unrecognizable. To myself. The love dance has shown me that some people’s love is prideful and self-serving and they will only share their love when they feel like it, not necessarily when it’s needed. Sex doesn’t make love and it’s possible to be in love without ever having engaged in sex. Everyone is well aware of the breathtaking, euphoric feelings love brings; this post isn’t about those. I’m here to make mention of those feelings people bury away in the darkest parts of their heart only to resurrect them with new lovers who must shoulder the blame of an old flame’s mistakes that continue to haunt you. You know that hollow feeling you get in your stomach when you realize he’ll never see you for what you are, only how well you match up to his ideal. The unshakeable cloud of confusion that envelops you when you discover his love for you is so strong that he finds himself losing control so he pushes you away because control is essential for his survival and he’d rather lose you than sacrifice himself for you. And the all too familiar feelings of hopelessness and despair that accompany loving someone who is unable, for whatever reason, to love you back. Not in a million years will we ever forget the cheater with his dirty prick ass. No one ever prepares you for the nights you’ll cry yourself to sleep because you can’t figure out why people won’t do love justice. Just play the videos and listen to the lyrics. These songs communicate thoughts and feelings that would take me an entire lifetime to explain.
This must be why I hate watching romantic movies, black love movies in particular, besides them being fake, corny, unrealistic and predictable. I’m afraid when watching them I will learn things about myself that I’m not ready to accept. Acceptance is the pre-cursor to action and right now ain’t shit shaking. I don’t want to do it. The Kid isn’t quite ready yet to make a move. Getting to know someone – learning them – is a process that should only be reserved for a select few. I’m not coming at your head like I’m Jesus or Halle Berry but it’s been said to me that every guy you date isn’t meant to be your boyfriend or your husband; weeding through these jiggas takes time, energy and strategy so I lay low and sleep alone. I enjoy male company and just DIE for their conversation, if they aren’t dumb, but getting close to me is no easy feat and I am evasive because I want to be. In some situations it’s necessary. This protects me and allows my interactions to remain pleasant, safe and surface. This is how I feel and in time I hope to move beyond where I am. Not for everyone, only for that one who is deserving of me and I of him.
I don’t want your pity and you BET NOT classify me as a nutcase. There are WAY MORE people out here like me than not because the divorce rate and the dating scene speaks to some of these very same issues. I know everyone has a story – cry me a river. At least I know what mine is.