Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Place to Call Home

So I uploaded the last post before posting an entry about why the hell I'm here again. If this blog is accurate, I haven't posted in almost 3 years. I miss writing. I miss it all the time. I don't know why I don't do it more often. I could say that I don't have the time. I could say that I forget. I could say that maybe sometimes it's just too hard. It's too hard to write your truth, your reality because you can't really undo it. Sure, I can erase a post and pretend it never happened, but it did. And writing feels like being home. It's that feeling you get that washes over you and you feel still and perfect and at peace because this is my truth. My reality. My life. I want to challenge myself to write more often because I owe it to myself. Honestly, I think I have way too many thoughts in my head not to write. This blog though had always been like an open diary. I don't know if that's what I'm ready for now, but let's see. Maybe it's better to start in a new virtual space. Maybe I start here, at home. We'll see.

Lessons in Love

The following letter is real in that I mean everything that I say. The following letter is fake in that I have no daughter and she's not really reading this letter. I wrote this in an effort to process some stuff that came up for me so strongly, I thought I wouldn't make it past the day.

6/26/12


Dear Ayanna,

I am writing you this letter to tell you about something I learned today. I am crying at work even though it’s completely embarrassing, but sometimes you just can’t help it. A couple of years ago I met a man and fell in love. Now people fall in love everyday and so sometimes you take it for granted. For me, it was different; I had already loved your brother’s father and that relationship did not last. I was devastated by that loss and sometimes I thought I would never find someone that I loved or that would love me. This is false. I think fear makes people think that they’ll never be loved again, but the truth is that love is all around us. We’re loved every day by family, by friends, and in due time, by a romantic partner. But I didn’t believe this enough when I was younger. By the time I met this man, let’s call him H, I had been on too many dates to count and had learned the hard way that men will treat you the way you allow them to treat you. When I met this man, I didn’t like his shoes. I thought they were too feminine even though they matched his shirt. Then again, I thought his shirt was too feminine. Few men can pull off any shade of pink and I wasn’t too sure he was one of them. He was short too. Not shorter than me because I’m 5’4 and most men aren’t that short anyway. He was 5’8 and apparently my first, but not last, short partner. On our first date, we were supposed to just meet for a few minutes and confirm we were who we claimed to be. After all, we had met online. Yes, your mother turned to the cyber world to meet someone after her in-person interactions left much to be desired. I can honestly say that there’s value to meeting people any way you meet them, but a couple of years ago I was almost embarrassed to share that we met online. Anyway, I digress *smile*. What should have been a few minutes turned into no less than about 10 hours of walking through the park, getting dinner, and watching movies together. H and I were nearly inseparable for the next 6 months. We spent hours on the phone and in person. He met people that were important to me, including your brother, and I met his important people, including his son. We adjusted the amount of time we spent as time went on because frankly we both had jobs and responsibilities. I loved H fiercely and it was liberating. It was the first time I fell in love as an adult with no strings attached. I didn’t feel like I loved him “because he did things for me or helped me out of anything”. I did feel that way about your brother’s father and that kind of love doesn’t last. It’s more obligation than passion. I felt passion in H’s words and the way he would look at me. I remember waking up to text messages that read, “You’re beautiful even in your sleep”. He was thoughtful and deliberate in the way he expressed his love. It was a different experience for your mother. I spent a year and a half pretending that I didn’t need love or a partner but I was really just afraid of getting hurt. Now, I’d like to tell you that H and I had this everlasting love, but that’s not how the story went. Eventually, in what seemed like a cruel twist of fate, H continued to suffer from depression to the extent that he no longer felt that he could be with me. I was devastated. I felt rejected, I felt abandoned, and I felt stupid. I wished against all hope that I had never allowed myself to feel so deeply when I “knew” relationships didn’t last. I was angry. I was hurt. I was confused. Sometimes I didn’t even believe this was the reason. I thought that he had just decided that he didn’t really want to be with me anymore because he had already been married once. The truth is sometimes you have to accept people’s reasons for what they are because adding the ideas of what you think their reasons really are just makes it worse. I have trouble being clear about my own stuff sometimes, so I don’t think attempting to read someone else’s mind is where I should be placing my energy. After the breakup, I really never spoke or saw H for about a year and a half and though I often thought of him, I continued to live my life without him. I even started to date again (another letter for another day my love). Anyway, H emailed me today and now I’m all mixed up inside. What I am clear about is that our time has passed. I don’t feel love for him in the same way and I wouldn’t date him again. Part of that reason is that I’m dating someone else, but part of it is that I don’t think H was ever supposed to be my One and Only (I sure hope you know that’s an Adele reference *smile*). But while I’m able to know we’re not meant to be together, it doesn’t make the time we spent any less beautiful. I think, if anything, H was an absolutely necessary “visitor” in my life. There’s this poem called Reasons, Seasons, and Lifetime. If you’re reading this as an adult, then I will have referenced it in conversation with you a bajillion times already. I believe I needed H to show me, if only briefly, what it means to be loved passionately. In words and in actions. During our season, I allowed myself to love freely even when I was afraid. My boss thought I should write you this letter and share with you today’s lesson. After all, there’s something to be learned in everything. I can’t find just one lesson because I think there’s so much in this story. So, I think the lessons are as follows:

1. You must always be loved in actions and in words because both are important.

2. Passion is important to a relationship, but so is commitment and dedication.

3. You can love someone and still not be able to be with them, but you should be honest about it.

4. Don’t be afraid to leave a situation even if it hurts or you’re afraid.

5. Don’t be afraid to stay even if it might be hard.

6. We always think the other person is being selfish when they don’t do what we want them to do as we want them to do it. This is our way of being selfish.

a. Being selfish isn’t always a bad thing.

7. Everyone processes things at a different pace; it doesn’t make the process or the feelings that emerge any less valid.

8. If someone you once loved hurts you, feel it, process it and then release it.

a. You can’t love someone fully if you’re still holding onto pain from loving and losing someone else.

9. Love yourself and don’t be so shocked when other people love you too. It’s not a gift or a favor. It’s what you deserve.

10. Love can hurt. Do it anyway. I promise you that loving someone and being loved are unmatched experiences in the journey called Life.

a. So as Bassey Ikpi likes to say, “Love someone and mean it”.

Always,

Mom