I don’t enjoy this feeling. The hollowness of when someone who became your every day becomes another person you used to know.
I could blame myself. I should really know better than to consider a person fresh out of a lengthy relationship. I did know better. But pickings are slim and I suppose I wanted to be open-minded to the possibility of “love”. As if a wounded man with a broken heart could even consider such a thought?
But he wanted me to believe that I was more than just a rebound, and I wanted to believe him.
I should have known better.
Now I’m in a far too familiar space, somewhere between numb and melancholy; hopeful and hopeless; exhaustion and apathy.
My aunt tells me I shine too bright, that my light blinds and intimidates the unworthy. Part of me believes her. Most of me is just bored and unfulfilled with solitude and a life of not having to be particularly accountable, to anyone in particular.
In first episode of roots reloaded, there is a scene where Kunta and the rest of his cohort of boys becoming men are about to undergo a ritual circumcision. Before the cutting, a masquerade asks “What is the duty of a Mandinka warrior?” The correct answer is: to raise a family.
It’s how I feel. There are multiple underlying motivators driving me towards goals, but for sure, one of them is to be stable enough to support a family.
I am transitioning from my early to mid-thirties, and am once again in a place of pondering whether I will have to just “have a baby” (or 2). It isn’t a goal. Raising children is a lifetime of work, and all hands possible are needed on deck, also all funds. But I also don’t want the gatekeeper to my chance at motherhood to be some hypothetical man that may never materialize.
But let’s back up. I’m not just looking for a baby-daddy.
I want someone to share life with, and eventually, domiciles. I want to build a loving, supportive partnership that becomes the foundation for a loving, happy family. And I don’t know how to not want that. And I don’t know how to not feel a lil spent and empty inside when I think I find a person who I could have that with, and they’re not ready, don’t see it, or don’t want it. (especially when they tried to assure me that they were, but maybe I just opened up too fast ::shrug::)
It sounds dramatic but it seems that the process of cutting of someone in whom you are emotionally invested, requires a cutting off of the part of you that is/was invested. I suppose it’s this emotional amputation that causes pain.
I’m being overly dramatic, but still…
It took a lot for me to get back to a place where I thought what I wanted was possible. And it’s still possible. But hope too long delayed becomes disappointment too heavy to carry. And sometimes the weight of holding out for what may lie just around a corner is just too much.
The simplest retort to all of this would be what I said at the beginning, I knew better. It was illogical for me to expect an outcome significantly different than this. I got attached to a man who’s emotional wreckage had zero to do with me, and almost let him wreck me.
However romantic, hopeful (delusional?), or forgiving I may be, even I have limits to how much inconsistency & uncertainty I can take, how many times I will let my feelings be hurt or my desire to see the best in another person, taken for granted. I reach a breaking point and feel hollow. I miss a person I can’t wait to not miss anymore. I miss the moment when the thought of this person made me feel joy rather than revulsion. I get caught in loops of feeling the urge to talk to him, then remember that continued connection will result in continued bullshit*
And experience shows that this isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way, and most likely won’t be the last, and he’ll just be another name on the growing list of niggas I used to know. I guess I’m tired of giving pieces of myself away. Not physically, but emotionally. Spiritually.
I sometimes fear that when the time comes, I’ll have little left to give. More deeply, I fear that the right time will never come, and like so many women I know, have to choose between settling for solitude or settling for less. And I’m pretty sure I know which one I’ll choose–I can deal with loneliness, I can’t deal with mistreatment.
But, I guess one can’t live in fear and fixed mindsets…you never know what lies ahead…and everything I’m living now were once things that seemed nearly impossible dreams…
*a footnote: everyone has the right to their pain, and to heal however possible. but at some point, you have to be accountable for your actions. that someone ran over your heart, made you feel unlovable and undesirable doesn’t mean you get to play games with people’s emotions in a manner that ultimately makes them feel the same way–abandoned, gutted, used.
#2 i am now officially jaded and pretty convinced that niggas are out here careening back and forth between taking advantage of the women who love them, and giving their all to women who treat them like they ain’t shit. like the key to the game is to keep niggas in a perpetual state of feeling like they don’t deserve you & that nothing they do will ever be enough. emotional wreck or nah, i guarantee if i kept this nigga at arms-length he would be still trying to see if he could “get” me right now.