I want to lay my head on your chest and just listen to you talk. It had been a long time since I’d been that intimate with anyone.
I miss hearing about your day. I miss the way your eyes would light up when you’d talk about something you’re really passionate about. I miss your eyes lighting up when you’d talk that way about me.
I can't recall Ever embracing the darkness.
Not like now. I'd never before sought Nothingness Rather than forging ahead Even when it meant I ran through pain.
He will talk of Empathy, perseverance, and forever. He will call you Love and Sweetheart and Darling, Purport to thank his lucky stars that you exist.
Why is it that we believe Elegance must be the face of a woman's suffering?
In the digital age especially, we have this idea that pain and heartbreak should be purely internal experiences. "We don't air our dirty laundry," an adage I heard more than once growing up in the South, is an apt summation of the notion that we (meaning anyone "respectable") don't speak of our struggles in the public realm.
By now, most of us know how we should probably answer the question, “Should I text him?” Almost invariably, even if we don’t actually know anything about the situationship at hand, the proper response is going to be an emphatic, “Hell no, girl!” Or in other words, “Quit giving your heart, energy, and attention to someone who isn’t reciprocating your interest. Period.”
But as anyone who has squared with dating in the digital age can tell you, that feat is much easier said than done when you: 1.) really like someone; 2.) thought (s)he was equally interested; and 3.) there has been no real discussion to (truthfully) explain the change in enthusiasm.
It felt like a fairytale.
I wasn’t really looking for anything other than someone to grab a drink with one evening after work. But he—as he put it when talking about me—just “checked all kinds of boxes,” per se. More than anyone else ever had.
“Write clear and hard about what hurts. Don’t avoid it. It has all the energy. Don’t worry, no one ever died of it. You might cry or laugh, but not die.” —Ernest Hemingway
So the below is from a post I put up on Instagram this week. Typically I don’t post on social media about what’s happening in my “real life,” but I figured someone in a similar position might appreciate the solidarity.
And just like that
You were gone,
Much like the wave of
Emotion your now-distant
Memory succinctly evokes.
Sometimes, it can be a blessing to have the “one that got away” only a text message away. He, who broke my heart several short years ago, was suddenly my lifeline when Seyi turned out to be a legitimately shitty person. Even now, we are in tune enough for that; still finishing each other’s sentences after all this time. I told him I’d never forgive him if he made me fall for him again…but perhaps I’ve finally (hopefully!!!) learned what Ms. Maya admonished long ago: “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
It isn't easy yet...but I am free.
My entire relationship was a lie.
It’s Friday now; I found out Monday night. Since then, I have experienced a roller coaster of emotions: shock, numbness, anger, sadness, despair, determination, hope, regret, incredulity, wistfulness, pure unadulterated pain… You name it, I probably felt it this week.
