I’ve been pondering this new phrase of mine for several days now– A phrase given to me, courtesy of my daughter’s father. “It is, exactly what you make it.”
The two of us, when we were together and whenever we argued–which, by the way, wasn’t really that often–would always end up saying in defeat–“It is, what it is”.
It was our way of adding distance to the situation. It was our way of removing ourselves from emotion, hurt, pain, anguish– anything plaguing the relationship. We would simply wave it all away by saying: “It is what it is.” Saying this was ever more easier than actually investigating what was going on and/or wrong at the time. We were both so arrogant and prideful. We would never admit the hurt existed. It got to the point where we simply stopped talking. Any conversation we had was so steeped in defensiveness and blame, it was actually more constructive not to talk. Either way created the same end result–not a damn thing.
We broke up (for the millionth time) on very bad terms. It got to the point where we literally were on opposite ends of the priority spectrum. One Saturday in October ( a few years back), baby in tow, I simply moved out, got my own place and hoped for the best.
The best really didn’t come. The whole situation was so screwed up. We both were very cruel to each other–pride. Neither of us wanted or was willing to accept the fact that we were the problem. We used our pointer fingers so much, they got tired. So instead, we started using our middle ones.
Our families were no help. On both sides, everybody had their own agendas which had little to do with the benefit of He and my little family. It was over protective parents and siblings budding their noses in grown folks business, based on the one-sided tales each of us weaved to gain sympathy we probably didn’t deserve completely.
Regret is something I am literally not capable of owning or acknowledging. I don’t believe in it, just like I don’t believe in competition. What is mine is for me and no one can take what is divinely designed for me to have. Period. Every decision I made, I made from an authentic place, based on authentic experiences and authentic hopes, needs, wants and desires. Whether these hopes, needs, desires, and wants were realistic is irrelevant. At the time, it was what it was. I left a situation I was not mature enough to make succinct. My spirit was very low. My self esteem was battered and bruised and the only way I could get me back was to gain some distance and hopefully some perspective. I had to leave to do this. Of course, I was rooting for him the whole time. Something in my spirit just knew he would get it together and I would get it together and we would reunite on more solid footing.
You know that saying: “when you love someone set them free, if they don’t come back it wasn’t meant to be?” Yeah, well. That saying sucks. Three months after I moved baby and me to our own place, my ex announces (over tea and child support papers) that he is engaged. Of course, I didn’t let on that my heart had literally shredded as the words sliced from his mouth. I said something cute and strong like: “So glad you found someone to put up with you…” Of course, when he left, I cried for hours. I mean, granted, the statement was suspect. Just about every other time we broke up, he said the same thing, but this time they were moving in together. This time, every single time we were privy to conversation about anything, this fool would say something like; “well, I have a wedding to pay for”. * insert knife in abdomen and turn*
For at least a year I lingered between sorrow, anguish, and anger. I kept a strong front. I smiled a lot. Buried myself in work. I allowed that numbing that happens to be entertained until I literally had built such a wall around my heart I was incapable of feeling anything at all. Even when I met great guys, I just couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t even baggage at that point, because I forgave myself and him and the circumstances. I told myself often–it is what it is. And it was. He and I were contented with acting like we barely ever existed and that the balance of our failed relationship was Aubrei. He was contented in telling me every chance he got about his pending nuptuals and I was contented to go out with folk to have something else to do besides drowning myself in work.
There were good moments in between, I will admit. But those moments were fleeting for lots of reasons.
The only reason I even mention any of this is because of this project I’ve been working on with a good friend, who happens to be pretty big deal. I can’t tell you what the project is yet, because it’s a secret. The gist of the project though, required me to go through all of the poetic instances in the ex and my relationship and relive each joy and sorrow line by line. Which of course, helped to soften my spirit toward him a bit in recognition that I have a thorough stack of memories on paper completely about him. Whaaaat?! Yes. No matter how you dice them onions, that’s a significant love and a significant love is not to be ignored, no matter how it plays out.
Funny thing is, everybody who stood within two feet of me (prior to the project) could tell that I was still in love with him. No matter how much I protested. No matter how cold I was to him. It’s like getting a gigantic black tattoo on your forehead and trying to cover it with concealer. You can see right through that shit. *smh* At I least I thought I was fooling somebody. Isn’t it the thought that counts?
Which brings me to the real reason for this post. The ex has been really nice to me lately. So nice, I’ve found myself checking the back of my clothes in the mirror looking for the “kick me” sign (that wasn’t there). His mom has even been nice to me. I have no answer for this. We’ve been talking more. Seeing eye to eye on things. Making a bit of friendship headway. Even more surprising, I’ve discovered recently that I can feel. The numbness that lingered in my spirit has just plain dissipated. I can’t explain it.
Of course, I’ve prayed on it. The answers that come are all a jumble because despite what my heart truly wants, not caring in the slightest what my family thinks, the fact remains that he is in fact in a relationship. Yes, he and I have a family together and it’s good for our child to see us amicable, but it’s really bad for me to be hopeful about us being uh…amicable.
I’ve been told that no true romance is noteworthy unless there is some element of tragedy interjected somewhere *i.e. Romeo and Juliet… Sodom and Gomorrah.. Star and Buckwild*
The tragedy in this romance, I guess, is that no matter how we may have evolved seperately and no matter how we may want to express it now in our new found maturity– The truth is, he is in a relationship. I am not privy to the details. I don’t know what’s going on with them. I don’t really need to know. The only fact that is necessary is that he has a woman in his life and that woman is not me. I have to respect that. Even still, knowing how I feel about him and the mutual feeling like a pot of grease is boiling between us when we’re around each other– I can’t, in good conscious let whatever may be trying to bubble, even try to spill over. Especially for Aubrei.
It may not be all that good that Mommy and Daddy live in seperate homes and that Mommy and Daddyy don’t speak all that much, but how much better can it be to see Mommy and Daddy flirting like their lives depend on it and making a much bigger mess out of everthing and everyone involved????
My instict is to fall all the way back and let whatever is going on in his life play out and not put myself in the position of the “fall back chic” or the “caught out there chic” or the “get her hopes up for no good reason chic”. Even if I did have him first. And she the rebound jawn. You feel me? I mean, afterall, (quoting B. Scott here) he is the ex for a reason. And the ex is absolutley right. It is (and is gonna be) exactly what we (choose to) make it. Or not.
The moral of this story? You know full well I ain’t got one. Just some food for thought. Thank you though for reading this. Peace and Many abundant tradegy free blessings. -e-