Monday, June 04, 2007

Disclaimer: To my friends: Please read the disclaimer from the previous post. Little by little this writing really does help. I felt ten times better after the last post, and I'm pretty sure I will feel better after this one as well. I anticipate this to be my last post on the situation. However, I can't make any promises. I'll see where my heart and words take me. Love you all! Smooches ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As kids, we learn: "Sticks and stones may break my bones; but words will never hurt me." Who came up with this crock of shit?? No, I'm serious. Yes I understand that maybe it's an attempt to keep kids from fighting on the playground. When I was a teacher, I was guilty of using the same cliche time and time again. But its a crock of shit, a lame ass string of words. Words do hurt. They rip you apart, tear you down, sear through the toughest exterior. Sticks and stones may cut, scratch and/or bruise our skin. But our skin is tough, strong, able to stand up to the outside world. That's what it was made for. But words and actions cut deeper than any stick or stone could ever reach. A place that is very rarely subjected to the elements. But once that place is touched, it is forever changed.

"Yeah we had sex last night and this morning. So what? I'm telling you tonight that I'm dating someone."

This from the man who whispered " I love you" in my ear just hours earlier. These words were a .38 caliber shot to my core, shattering everything I believe in - love, respect, kindness, decency, friendship, and most of all, love. The delivery was so cavalier and nonchalant he might as well have asked me to pick up some Pepperidge Farms Chocolate Chip Cookies from the supermarket. These words cut deeper than any stick and bruised harder than any stone. There was no regard for my feelings in that statement or in subsequent conversations. There wasn't a hint of love and respect for me behind his words or his actions.

Please be clear this isn't about him moving on. That is not the issue. Honestly. While it does sting (mostly because I was caught so off guard), it's insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Yes it was the catalyst that lead to his declaration but the manner in which he handled the situation is the serrated, rusty knife in my back and in my heart. His words. His actions. I felt used for giving him whatever he needed, manipulated for continuing to believe in him and in us, and stupid for not seeing the obvious handwriting on the wall. Everything about the love we shared feels cheap and tawdry, like some illicit affair instead of a true friendship, a real relationship.

Yes I understand breakups are never easy. I understand that there is no perfect time to tell someone that you want to move on with your life. But timing, my friend, is everything. Timing is the difference between parting amicably and the nasty war that has ensued. Timing stands between total love and respect for someone and total disgust and contempt for same person. Timing is the fork in the road. On one side the road is paved, smooth sailing over difficult discussions filled with mutual love and respect. The other road is filled with potholes and cracks over heated exchanges of hurt and betrayal. Why did we have to go down the latter? Why couldn't this be handled on the high road instead of down in the gutter? The only answer I have is because of timing. Had this manchild told me about his new situation before he entered my promise land repeatedly, knowing what he was building on the side behind my back, the situation would not be what it is. Instead he waited until the last possible moment (mostly likely forced to), which just so happened to be after he sampled a taste of my sugar walls. This, my friend, is the source of my hurt, the epicenter of my pain; not the fact that I am not the "chosen one" like this was sort of reality game show. I feel used. Rationally, I know my worth. I know that I am an intelligent, kind-hearted, loving, funny, beautiful person. The people who truly love me remind of this everyday, helping to ease the pain. But emotionally, I am drained, depleted, destitute. I know longer believe in the power of love and the beauty it can bring to your life. I'm happy for those who have found it, who have navigated through the land mines of bullshit. But after the ugly episode that has unfolded, I'm just left to pick up the shattered pieces of my core. Maybe I can find some beauty in that. Or maybe not.

2 comments:

rashad said...

You can't give up on love man..its way too early in the game, and I don't think you're quite ready to lead a life of cats and sex toys. And write about this situation as much as you want, its your effin' blog. and MY disclaimer to you is that you know my history with women, so listen to NOTHING I say.

Maria said...

Your previous entries had me intrigued, so I came around your blog to get a little bit more. I must say sis, this too shall pass. It seems so raw, and makes you so vulnerable because it is the present. 6 months from now, it will be the inside joke between you and your group of friends. You can't give up on love, because to give up on that is to give up on God. Believe in the impossible! If I can say this to you after a breakup with my daughter's father, and the man I spent the last 8 years with, then trust and believe, this boy can't steal your joy. You are so much more than his castoff. You said you know your worth, then recognize that you, too, are worthy of great love. It will all come in time.