A Series Of Conversations


For as long as I can remember— I’ve loved you. In hindsight, I realize it may have been the thought of you, or who I’ve imagined you to be. Caught up in the endless possibilities of the man I know you can be. Understand, I never thought I could change you, and I’ve never had the desire to. But, for as long as I can remember this silly heart of mine has always wanted, you. Again, maybe I just love the potential I saw in you.


I’m right, it was you. All of you. You’ve shown me who you really are, and I swear I believed you— Still believe you. It’s part of the reason we both walked away. Yet, what I saw on my own, and the glimpses you willing showed, never frightened me. Juxtaposition so jarring, but we didn’t care—then. We both stepped in eyes wide open under our blindfolds.

For you, I became someone I swore I’d never be. Did things for you I thought I’d never do. Subconsciously bending and twisting my natural inclinations to keep you pleased. Never once did it grieve me. I did it with gladness because even in contrast you gave me space to be me. You never had to knock on the walls of my heart. I greeted you at the door. Elated at the thought of your arrival. Our visits always too short.

There were times I waited—

Backpack on, sitting by the door

Anticipations rising

—You never showed up.

Compromising was never an issue (at least not for me). Because my strong, fierce, independent, warrior women energy had no problem making room for a King. Elder women, I know. Say I’m stupid. Call me, a silly woman. I’m done apologizing for loving someone you thought wouldn’t fit.

But there was a glitch in my brain when I forgot the promises I made myself. I jumped too quick, my heart fell, and you turned out to be something else. I don’t think you hid it. It was something only time could reveal. My watch was off, the second hand running too fast. Making up for time lost, stuck in the nostalgia of the past. We always said…

“Timing is everything”

Then we plugged our ears, sewed our eyes shut, and gagged our mouths. Waiting for the other person to keep us accountable. Not caring what or who stood in our way. Now I’m picking up the pieces you left behind in my brain.

I pray the fog of you lifts one day, but I won’t lie I like it- it’s intoxicating. The comedown is harder and emotionally draining. In fact, there were times when it was excruciating. I smiled through my tears, and hid the pain…

“You good”?

“Yep, I’m good. Love you fam!”


I knew if I shared the whole truth you couldn’t handle it because that level of maturity is a place we haven’t reached yet. I didn’t want you to run and hide because you would think you were protecting me. Why can’t you understand you being gone forever was the last thing I want. I didn’t care of things wouldn’t be the same. Growth requires change, it comes with pain, and “same” isn’t how things should stay. I doesn’t look like how we thought, but I promise I’m okay. You and I, we’ve been through some things— it’s changed our views, but honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I find beauty in pain, and I know you don’t see it that way. Sometimes when I’d talk I’d see your eyes gloss over. In your mind you’d go to another place.

Hmm, I guess my hour was up, huh?

You're selfish. Remember you told me that. I believed you, so now I manage my expectations, still loving you the same- praying for you more than for myself these days.

“The most beautiful thoughts are always beside the darkest”

I remember when you introduced me to that. And let me tell you I have some thoughts about you, but the fact that i’d still stand here, and without question fight- tells me I really love you. Not the imaged you, or the possibilities of what you possess. But the man you are today, right now in the middle of our mess. The only thought you need to be concerned with is that YOU are always welcomed at my table, and there will never be a day when I stop loving you.

But this is just the Prologue, so let me slow down. This series of conversations has changed my life now.

To be continued…

Chantel RiveraComment