I spoke to a friend of mine this evening, and our conversation was very insightful, encouraging, sobering, and comforting.
I hadn’t actually spoken to her officially yet; it was always in hello or goodbye passing at a party, or on Facebook posts. But tonight I decided to give her a call. I’m out of town for a business trip and she’s in the area. We were initially planning to chat over the phone to meet up with one another, but after the conversation, I was drained and hungry, and she had some work to catch up on.
The bulk of the conversation: my breakup. She was stunned when she heard I was single. Her words: What?! Are you serious? Whennnnn? The last time I saw you to at the Invitation I kept looking at the way you two reacted like “I want a love like that.” Yea, honey, me too. She went on to say how she remembers how he looked at me, how I made his plate, sat on his lap, how we cuddled on the couch together. All the memories were making me squirmy; I didn’t need all that.
Someone might ask, “When are you going to stop posting about this breakup already?” If I was a follower of mine I know I would. And to that, I would answer: When it’s out of my system! *sarcastic smile* And I’m not there yet. I’m not. Getting there. But not there yet. Hell, I might even write a whole series about it! Not so much because of who he was, but because of what we were. I thought I was done. I had found the ONE. But, no, actually, I'm back to the drawing board. Yea, obviously it’s stirred up a lot of emotions in me, and I haven’t purged yet.
I mean, I got through the angry phase successfully without acting on any of the violent thoughts I had toward him, like slashing his tires, keying his car, busting all his windows. Yep. Surprised the hell out of me too, but yes I did have those thoughts. Often. My mentor asked if I wanted her to shoot him for me. During this phase that was a very dangerous request to ask me to consider, but I declined. Hell, as I see it: I saved his ass. I think he owes me a thank you.
Then hurt. Hurt is no joke! Speaking of hurt, that was the next phase: the crying, depressing, don’t want to go anywhere or see anyone, why am I really here, why am I not good enough phase. It’s an ugly phase. Ugly and shameful. Don’t want to go back there. Then again, I’m not sure if I’m completely through that phase. I mean, it might be an overlapping phase that just lasts indefinitely. Hurt is one of those things that once you feel it, I’m not sure if you’re ever really over it.
Next is the confusion phase. Where you’re done crying, or at least crying out loud, and you don’t want to kill him anymore, you just want to understand why but can’t. During this time I started opening up with my male friends, and when I finally reached out to my ex, or he reached out to me, whichever came first, and that’s when I got my clarity. Eventually it finally made sense, kind of, that he just didn’t want me. And that hurt. (all over again) That for one reason or another he just wasn’t ready (and that hurt too) and I just need to give it up, let it go, and move the hell on (which is, I’m discovering, not very easy to do).
That’s when the conversation with my friend struck a cord. She mentioned her reading the Steve Harvey book, which reminded me of something I’d read in the Hill Harper book (the Conversation) that (almost) explains my situation exactly. Basically, there are 3 things a man must have in his life in order to want to settle down, or stay in a committed relationship. Without them, it doesn’t matter how good of a woman you are, you can be the best, but he will not feel fulfilled, and he’ll constantly feel like something’s missing.
The first one was money. If a man feels financially inadequate, he’ll cheat, or he’ll leave. To prove himself, to himself. And that hit a soft spot. Granted, I’m not a rich single in Atlanta like many of my counterparts, but I do alright. The problem with my ex, though, I noticed very early, is he was always mentioning how he was going to be a better boyfriend, how he had been the “broke boyfriend” and how so much would change when he finally got his promotion. Even though I never complained about or mentioned any of that. He and I were together on my birthday. It was all I wanted. To be with him. Well, that, and to go to the Carnival at Turner Field. He happened to have not gotten a reimbursement he was expecting so it turned out he didn’t have money to pay for anything that weekend. I paid for our rides, our food, everything, but you know what – I had a ball. I was sooooo wrapped up in him and how good he made me feel I didn’t care. I wasn’t concerned about how much money he made, or whether he could take me out to a restaurant whose menu doesn’t have pictures on it, but I never thought about how it made him feel. He was feeling less like a man, and there was nothing I could do to assure him it didn’t matter. He felt bad he couldn’t take me on dates; all I wanted to do was spend time together. I told him we could just take a walk, or have a picnic on the floor at home, play some board games and grab some brews from the liquor store, but none of that mattered. He felt a void. And I couldn’t fill it.
The second was career, which I think has a lot to do with money, but they’re not quite the same. Men have been told for ages they must provide for their household; its engrained in them. But if a man is still “searching” for his niche, there’s no room for a woman. My ex did mention his not being able to stay in a company for long, why it’s the reason he’s a consultant, that it was time for him to move, to build his own… I took that as ambition, and youth. Not as a sign, which I should have, that he wasn’t going to be around for long. No matter that he told me he wanted a future with me. It was his brain talking, not his heart. He doesn't have staying power.
The last one I can’t remember, but I’ll take a practical stab at, because it’s what I gather from observing him. So, from what imagine, my ex was a bit of a lame. I noticed that from the social “circles” he had when we hung out – which were geeky, odd coworkers whose jokes I barely thought were funny – and how he interacted around my friends. Granted, my friends are my friends, but to an extent, someone who is comfortable socializing is always comfortable no matter who they are. So, he didn’t get much attention from girls growing up; he was a nerd. Smart as hell, but not tall, not built sexy, not a stud. He goes to college and joins man’s entrance door into the world of easy ass and like-minded homeboys: the fraternity. He relied on this social system of frat boy life to breathe the confidence in him he was looking for, and the play he starved for. But when he moved to Atlanta, he lost that. Now, all he had was those geeky coworkers, an occasional friend in town, and his girlfriend. Not very manly, right? It sent him back to unfriendly, familiar territory – Lameville. And he wasn’t having it. So what does he need to do? Drop the girlfriend, even though she’s the best he’ll ever have, he has to prove he’s the shit; get the promotion, because more money equals more confidence; lose weight, gain muscle, which will make him more attractive and give him play; and make new friends.
He was ready for a new world, and I was dead weight. He might miss it, he might miss me, or “us” but he missed what he thought he was missing more. He’s a man fresh from Chicago, in the land of milk and honey for a male (gay or straight, might I add), and he needs to bang as many as he can, to prove he’s got it. He won’t ever go back to that loser he was before.
So there. That’s my synopsis. I’m pretty sure I’m right too. I may not be good at selecting boyfriends, but I’m pretty good at judging people. Or rather, analyzing them. Now that I’ve realized what it is, I’m hurt again (as if it ever went away) because I wish men would just be grateful for what the hell they have when they have it! Not after. Well, some. Not all men are idiots. But the young ones in Atlanta are. They can’t stomach passing up all that goodness out there, even if they don't have a chance in hell with half of them, and even though the woman right there in their arms would give the world if they asked for it. Tsk. Tsk.
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