Exeunt

Sometimes people set you free and you don’t know it.

Someone told me once that if you were to look back at a failed relationship, you could divide the amount of time that you were with that person and that number would reflect how long you were attempting / considering / contemplating breaking up with that person (if you were the one who left). So if you were with someone for 2 years, you probably spent a year trying to figure out how to get out with minimal damage to both sides and minimal guilt to you.

I dated Shawn for 7 years. From the time I was 19 through until I was 26. Our first years together were great and I was convinced that he loved me. At one point, I was afraid that no one would EVER love me like that again. (Thank god for Earl). But at some point, stuff started going south. It wasn’t the love – because he was still enthralled with me, despite me gaining weight and being busy. He was ever passionate about our love making and was consistent with wanting to see me. He loved me around his family and around him. And I loved him. But…. (you knew it was coming)… he couldn’t keep a job… wasn’t interested in furthering his education at all at the time. A great gift to him was a pack of dutchmasters. And that was fine and dandy when we were 20 and 21… but when I started to consider having a family with him, I worried. I am very old school when it comes to the structure of a family. The man is the head of the family. The woman is the neck upon which the head sits. So the two mutually NEED each other and are equally important. But I needed my husband to be someone that I could edify to my kids. The leader of their clan. Their spiritual leader. The person who set the example to them both about what they should attempt to become – or the kind of people they would want to surround themselves with and attract. And although Shawn was a really great guy – I couldn’t in all consciousness do that and be working eleventy jobs to keep us afloat while he rolled some fatties with his boys in the backyard (of the house that I’d have been undoubtedly paying for). I made that discovery around the age of 23. I spent the next 3 years attempting to find the way out. Not by being horrible or terrible… or by cheating or acting afool… just trying to find the door. And I guess after watching me for 3 years feeling the walls for an exit… he decided to give me an out.

One day after making love we were laying there… and I would imagine I had a concerned, distant look on my face. The same countenance I’d probably been carrying around unknowingly for 3 years. And he started a conversation. “Remember when I told you that after you and I started dating, I stopped messing with Natalie?” (Natalie was the girl immediately before me which he swore up and down that everything stopped after he and I got together). “Yeah?” I droned. “Well… we did sleep together one more time…” I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him for a minute and thought about the circumstances. Why in God’s name would he be bringing this up now? We just had sex… things are… well… the same as always – but not BAD. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. But I could tell there was something larger at play in his mind. I maintain that Shawn is the one man who never cheated on me. He might have been doing a lot of things when I wasn’t around – but I sincerely don’t believe there was anyone but me not even in play. And he would usually come clean about something if I asked him. He never saw the purpose in lying to me. And that’s when I realized… he was letting me out. I could take this tidbit of information and ride it all the way out the door and he would let me go. And I did. And this time, he didn’t fight me. I walked out on my then longest relationship and never looked back.

It was the right decision at the time because I was able to move on, make new relationships, make new mistakes and ultimately make the new me… the Me I’d become for the rest of my life instead of standing still. I caught up with him a while ago and i can’t say I’m confident he’s much further along with his life than he was when we were together – but… that’s probably what worked for HIM. And if that’s the case, more power to him. I love him for being true to himself. Always will.

But it’s very strange the way people set you free. It’s scary because it’s different but, it’s what you need at the time you need it. So when it happens and you recognize it…

Walk out the door.

*

Great Expectations

I’m really not sure what I was supposed to be expecting. Largely out of this life but more specifically out of marriage. I think I knew what I was hoping for once. But I’m not sure if “hoping for” and “expecting” really share the same ledge. What I’m realizing now, in short form, is that what I hoped for and expected, I thought I got but I’m sadly mistaken. And now I’m retracing my steps to figure out how I got here.

An old African Proverb states:

“If you understand the beginning well, the end will not trouble you.”

And I imagine that’s why I’m looking back. My answers are there. In the beginning. There was pathology there already. But I thought… that the idea to making a great relationship was compromising overinflated expectations and arriving at realistic and achievable hopes. For instance… the overinflated expectation of being the only one your man would ever think about / dream of / want could be compromised down to you being the only one he wants to marry or the only one he can see himself with long term. Although the expectation / hope attractive, it’s lofty and unrealistic.

What I’m finding that I did wrong is that, from the very beginning, I placed my husband’s thoughts, expressions, words, intentions… everything on this very high pedestal. In my mind, I immediately made him “the one” I’d been looking for. I was convinced of a little conversation I had with God that it was time to give up my dirty evil ways to settle down with THIS man, because he was the one fashioned just for me. So – from the beginning, I didn’t leave any room for human error. How could there be error in something God created himself? Again with me and this starting folks out at 100% and chopping down, but for him I started him out at like… 10000%. He had a long way to fall whether he tried to or not. And through the years… he fell, just a little… with every argument. Every disagreement. Every harsh word. Every failed expectation. And I saw myself doing little things to chop down the pedestal so maybe he could breathe. I remember I used to have this comic strip hung up at my desk. Rose is Rose. I love it because Rose and her husband, Jimbo, just plain ol’ love each other. Love. Are infatuated with. Still have fire for. And in one strip, they were enjoying a walk at night and found that upon kissing… it made the moon appear. A crescent at first. And the longer they kissed the fuller it became. Then little peck kisses made the stars appear. Then Jimbo asked Rose, “I wonder what happens if we really let it all hang out?” and he dipped her and kissed her… and in traipses in their little son, Pasquale. It was the perfect little romantic microcosm of everything I’d love to have. And I read it every day in my periphery at my desk. Right beneath it? A framed black and white photo of me and my fiance that I could look at and remember how in love we were anytime. Across my desk from that? Two little bears sitting on a pedestal – a little chocolate bear with a cane in his pocket and a little light skinned bear with a pink dress and sun hat on. (a valentines gift from my man). On my ringer “Ain’t No Other Man” would have Christina Aguilera blasting his introduction if he called Letting everyone in earshot know that “ain’t no other man, can stand up next to you… ain’t no other man on the planet does what you do… you’re the kind of guy a girl finds in a blue moon…” On my IM window box, he had his own “Buddy Group” for all the names he signs in under. And the grouping was called “My Superhero”. After each argument, something got taken down. Moved out of sight. Renamed. Reprogrammed. Because… how can I hold such a high standard for so long if it’s not being met?

And maybe that’s the thinking that led me here. I gave up on so many of my great expectations, but in my heart, I held on to my hope. My dream of what married life would be DIDN’T change. And that dream was founded on my ORIGINAL expectations of who would ride in on his horse and sweep me off my feet. So although I’d lowered my expectations on what to have for a boyfriend… I thought somehow there would be a rising to the occasion for the husband. But how can that be? If I didn’t HOLD the standard in courtship? I’m asking for a lot to have him live up to these standards now. I’m asking for too much.

The strip has since been thrown away. The photo never made it out of my drawer again. The bears are up high and out of sight at my desk. The buddy group just says “Earl” now. The ringer plays “Flashing Lights”. So maybe now it’s time to look at the expectations I had for marriage and either… compromise those too – or be uncompromising and get what I’m looking for one way or another.

*

Absence Makes the Heart…

Grow fonder. Yeah. That’s me saying it. Me who usually subscribes to absence making the heart forget. I never want to be away from the people and the things I love for too long. But I believe that a weekend is just long enough. During this trip, I’ve missed my car and how small and maneuverable it is. I’ve missed husband and how quickly he warms my bed. I’ve missed the proximity to my family because I really did feel so far away on this trip. But I am glad that I went. Aside from the saga of my swelling leg, I enjoyed just being away. Sleeping in the sun. Being around old friends and sisters. Meeting new family members. But most of all – not being OBLIGATED to do anything. That is what I needed most.

The graduation was wonderful. Although outside and the seating was on the lawn (read: bugs)… it wasn’t half as hellacious as I’d imagined it might be. I was only terrorized by one bug the whole trip. Thank God. Nessa looked breathtakingly fabulous as she accepted her JD and I think my camera did a decent job of taking some great pictures – I’ll be sure to share as soon I upload them. I got a chance to finally meet my nephew, Alex who is just so sweet and chatty and expressive at 20 months old. I was just in awe of my LS. I remember us being kids, you know? Barely 18 and 19 in school, struggling with the crises of out times – grades, boys, entertainments. And now here she is… a mother. A good one… with a loving husband and a well behaved little boy. She seems beside herself in glory. And I’m admirious and excited for her. I got to see my Sharon – who I’ve not been in touch with or spoken to since she defected to Tampa from NY in search of a better life. She seems happier than she was in NY and we haven’t missed a beat. We were right back to ribbing each other once we were together. I’m excited for her new life as well – She deserved happiness and change.

Then of course I got to meet Annessa’s entire family which was wonderful. I immediately felt at home and welcome. Her mother and father were youthful, thankful and spiritual. Her father prayed with me numerous times and I’m grateful for that blessing as I really felt I needed the words of comfort and encouragement. Her sisters were all beautiful and welcoming. I never felt out of placed or looked at sideways. It was truly home away from home. There was such a feeling a pride wafting over the whole family for Annessa. Her family LOVES her. I pray that she lets that love sink in and do her well. She needs that positivity around her constantly.

I got a little tan by the pool during her after reception. The only thing we didn’t get to do was go clubbing afterwards. We fell asleep when we got back, under the auspice of a disco nap. But when Annessa called to wake us – it was 11:30 PM. With our flight as early as it was – there was no way we’d make it and be coherent in the morning. So we opted out and went back to sleep. Around 4:30 AM I got up and packed. Then at 5:15 or so, Vic got up to do the same.

I’m on the plane now, yawnin’ up a storm.. So I thnk I’ll take a little nap and continue on my connecting flight 

Jelly

Well, I got here to Tampa and amidst the many “adventures” I had with Li’l Vic (read: getting lost WITH a GPS), we’re all settled in. My leg is going through a bout of elephantiasis, it seems. It is just swollen whole for no reason at all… I’m beginning to think that I must have injured it, because it actually hurts. I slept with it elevated last night and soaked it in ice water to see if that would make a difference. This morning it’s BETTER, but i can tell by the end of the day, I’ll have trouble getting my foot into a shoe again. Size is definitely an issue down here. I rented a “mid sized” car and they have me pushing a Jeep Cherokee. That is one big emmeffin car. I have to put my whole being into turning the wheel or pressing the gas. I will truly appreciate my little car when I get back to her.

I was attempting to get a little sleep last night, leg elevated and all and around 5 AM, something woke me up. Sounded like the wind got a hold of something and was rustling it uncontrollably. In my stupor, I half investigated what could be happening. Sounded like my headboard was rattling so I tried holding it in place or touching it to see where it might be loose. After about 5 minutes of “investigating”, I heard it come through the wall on the other side “OH… OH… OHHHH… YES!!!! FUCK!!!!” And then all the motion stopped. A light went on next door, briefly… and then snoring. And I laid in bed like… “oh… so … this is what it’s like on the other side of the wall…” And I half felt jealous… and half couldn’t hate on them gettin’ it in. Used to be me rattling walls and upsetting hotel patrons. And it was a good time. So I raise my glass of morning orange juice to the people getting it in next door in room 204. Enjoy these years I thought they’d never end.

Off to get ready for Annessa’s graduation. Wish my leg luck.

*

Tampa Bound

I’m on the plane now headed to Charlotte and I’m taking a minute just to write and relax. I slept a little while the plane was taxiing waiting for departure. I dare say it’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a little while. Usually is. I was a little nervous last night about the flight thought – but then again, I usually am. But particularly last night because I noticed my left foot was rather swollen. Not swollen from some kind of injury, per se. But swollen from water retention. I’ve retained water before but it’s never made my foot look like that. So I called my brother and asked him what he thought I should do. His first recommendation was to not fly with my leg in this condition – well… that wasn’t really going to happen. Something about we don’t know what the cause of this is and we don’t want a pressurized situation making it worse, yadda yadda. Then I thought – well, Mommy’s legs have been swollen… pretty much all of my life. She must know all the secrets to bringing it down or getting it under control. So I called her. She had nothing to offer. She knew no solutions. She didn’t even take a stab at the solution or offer me some kind of recourse. I was on my own. Feeling that way a lot lately. I thought for a moment that I’d have VM’s company on this flight but I mis calculated in my mind the events of us booking our flights and she was on a flight 1 hour earlier than mine. So it’s just me and my lappie.

So my brothers words resonated with me about the whole… circulation, altitude, thrombosis, possible stroke scenario that we’ve heard so many places about flying and what it does to your veins. I felt especially tense about flying today. As if I’m putting myself in greater jeopardy than I normally would in a flying situation. The sensation was tantamount to when I got into that small car accident with D and I had this horrid headache all day. Someone planted it in my head that sometimes the result of those headaches is your brain swelling when you finally sleep and then you die. I was so scared. I gave Earl all of my passwords that night… told him where everything was and made sure he knew how much I loved him. And we were just dating at the time. This time, I didn’t feel the need to divulge all the secrets. There really are none. And although I quietly expressed my nervousness at flying… it was met with…. I’m not going to say, indifference. But maybe… lack of concern. I was sent off with a peck on the lips and and a “it’ll be okay” short form speech. I listen to Alicia Keys sing that song and I swear I feel that I try – and have always tried – to give them the love and adoration I would if I knew I’d never see them again. Seriously? In this world – you NEVER know.

I remember sitting by Charles’ bedside the night before he died. And we were chatting. And before we wrapped up and I headed home, he held my hand and said, “You know, I love you.” And for once, I was placed in that decidedly weird place I must have put the whole rest of the world that isn’t ready to hear me say that to them. This was someone I’d never said it to – but felt it for deeply. He was my brother. He was very special to me and I knew he was so sick. I didn’t ever want to believe that he would pass. That night I learned what a hospice truly was. I replied in kind… “I love you too, Charles.” And they were the last words we exchanged. You just never know.

I doted on my husband this morning. He was extra fine. Just… chocolatey and beautiful. Walkin’ around slightly bowlegged and manly… I complimented him many times… and expressed how wondrous he is to me. He is. Sometimes I feel bad for loving him the way that I do. Maybe it’s presuming too much. Maybe he’s interpreting it as having to love me back that much – or in that way – and he just doesn’t know how to do that. And it a lot of ways, I wish he would. A lot of what I do in life, I do it as example of what I would love done to / for / with me. As a result, I come off as reallllly excellent to people. It’s just what I would hope that folks would do for me… Maybe that’s unfair. But you know me… All or nothing. If I don’t give it every drop of love I feel and every hint of emotion that passes through me – then I give it nothing. I wish I could find midgrounds.

Maybe that should be the goal this year. Find midgrounds. It’s eluded me all this life. Maybe I can make time to get there soon.

Speaking of Midgrounds – we’re arriving in Charlotte, NC. Midpoint in my travels.
Will write again on the next flight (if it’s long enough).