…life from my perspective


He told me I was slacking and that I needed to write. He was well aware that I had recently relocated, experienced a meltdown the second I arrived and was feeling the endless pressure of making everything right as I rushed to settle into my new life, yet he still shared what HE thought I should be doing. Crazy thing is, I agreed with him. And since I wasn’t in the mood for babysitting the male ego that night, I didn’t let on that he was right. The moment he said it, I felt the urge to put the pen to the pad but I wasn’t inspired enough to create anything that could adequately describe my thoughts, communicate my feelings or express my mood since my move. I entertained the thought of writing a post about my USA departure and subsequent UK arrival but that felt so predictable. Then, for a moment, I was REALLY motivated to write about Troy Davis, the public’s reaction and the racial disparities that plague the American justice system but after trying to mentally organize all of the thoughts, philosophies and ideas running through my pretty little head, I got an instant headache. And in that moment, after I received an e-mail message from him, I knew that our “reunion” was what I needed to write about.

As I said before, I hate breakups. Coming to terms with the fact that a part of your life is over and in order to stay living and loving you must brace yourself for the next episode or EPISODES is exciting and daunting all at the same time. It had been more than two years since we last spoke and he heard it through the grapevine that I was leaving so he reached out, expressing his desire to see me or speak with me before I made my exodus. I was surprised to even hear from him and a bit undecided about whether I wanted to meet up with him before I left; in the end I decided against it. Before my departure, I did return his call and we caught up on 2.5 yrs of our lives in about an hour. As we talked, I reminisced to myself about the late night calls we used to share and flirted with the idea of having him back in my space to teach me things I didn’t know and show me love in ways I never imagined. Our talk was civil, respectful, cordial and safe. By conversation’s end, we were both glad we had the chance to speak with one another and a part of me wanted us to work on re-building a friendship because I missed having him in my life.

2 emails later, I no longer feel how I felt 2 weeks earlier. There isn’t one specific thing that I can point to that went wrong, but since I’ve been overseas our communication just doesn’t “feel” right. Something about it doesn’t put me at ease. Don’t get it twisted. I’m not naive in my thinking that good relationships can’t survive amidst conflict because they can and the really healthy ones do. Having conflict is not the issue it’s how you respond to it, your methods for resolving it and the person you become as a result of it that matter most. As I look over my life, the mistakes I’ve made, the loves I’ve lost, the people who have come and gone and those who remain and the revolving door that makes allowances for all of my good and bad experiences, I’m starting to realize it’s OK to love “at a distance.” Before I left, Toe uttered the words “I can still love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him.” It’s amazing how her words resonate through this post as I’ve never agreed with her more than I do now.

Sometimes our past needs to remain in the past. This doesn’t mean we negate the experiences or the people that helped shaped them but instead reflect upon them and continue to use them as we strive to become the people we want to be. I love my ex-lover. I have a genuine concern for his welfare but I no longer desire to share my life with him. It makes me sad, but I have come to terms with the fact that our needs are different and neither one of us are adept at fulfilling each others. I understand that we speak a different love language and sometimes when you try too hard, forcing the pieces to fit together, they end up buckling – becoming too warped or damaged to be put back together again. In all honestly, I wish him the best. I want to see him happy. I want him to do well. And I know now, after all’s said and done, there is no part for me in his reality. As I fast forward, I pray that I resist the urge to sabotage new and promising relationships for fear that I may enjoy them too much and that they may serve me too well. I ask God daily to help curb my fear of falling in love so I can relish in the joy that it brings as it feeds my strength to endure the hard times and manage the pain. We all deserve love. We all deserve to be happy. I hope my ex-lover gets his because I know in time I will get mine. Until tomorrow youngn’s.

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September 2011
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