Be Careful What You Ask For…

… or you just might actually get it. 

So the story begins about five or six years ago, when She breezed into the room and began her steady descent into the folds of my heart. She was sort of a globe-trotting nomad, who found herself in Trinidad on a work project. 

We met while working together in a performance group; and I gotta admit that I was drawn to her immediately. Visually the sista was (and still is), to me, absolutely stunning. Waist-length locs cascading down her back, kind eyes, beautiful smile, and an amazing body. She dug capoeira, literature, and yoga. She lived clean – wouldn’t put anything into her temple that was processed or slaughtered.

Part of my fascination with her was her well-guarded tongue; it only made me want to get to know her even more.

Folks, have you ever thought about The One? Ever thought about the type of person he or she would be; what their interests would be, etc…? It sounds so ridiculous to say it, but She seemed to have stepped right out of my daydreams and stood in front of me, as if to say yesss, it is entirely possible for the universe to send me what I’ve always wanted. She sparked probably the two most meaningful poems I have ever written; and She brought out of me a thirst for more – more knowledge, more creativity, more exploration.

Over the years we kept crossing paths; she’d return to Trinidad every so often, and when I worked on a cruise ship, She sometimes picked me up when I was in her port.

I use to tease her about wanting to get to know her a bit better; but in a joking way because, deep down – I never thought She’d take me seriously. She’d always laugh, and make some comment about me being a player. I’d laugh right back, secretly hoping that She didn’t really see me that way. Our friendship continued for years this way, and the ,essed up thing is that, instead of my feelings for her lessening, they grew more each time I saw her.

Fast forward to a month ago; She was back down here in T and T, so I invited her to spend a few days at my apartment so She’d be nearer to where She needed to get some things done. I really wasn’t expecting anything other than to get to spend time with someone that I have grown very fond of.

First night was cool; we spent the time catching up. Aside from my attraction to here, we shared a genuine friendship, and I really looked up to her as someone who embodies so much of who I’m trying to become.

But anyhow a few nights into her stay, something happened. No, I’m not going into details; it meant too much to me. Except to say that I re-wrote those two poems in the small of her back repeatedly, and She seared her name into my skin each time She gripped me close. But that’s as much as I’m gonna give you. All I know is that all of those years of holding back, and ignoring feelings, spilled over on that night. And then…

…Nothing.

She said that She couldn’t be what I wanted or needed; She said that things were complicated in her life, and that She doesn’t want to drag me into all of that. She tried to explain how things are with her. And she held her head in her hands as though she deeply regretted ‘doing this’ to me.

I listened, quietly; trying to concentrate on being understanding. Trying to ensure that I didn’t say something selfish. Trying to see why it was so hard for her to give of herself to me. But I’d be lying if I wrote this as though I wasn’t crying inside. What we had shared, over and over and over that night – felt so right to me.  I swallowed hard and willed the tears stinging my eyes to dissipate before she could ever see. Before she could ever know how much she truly means to me. I managed to smile and tell her that I understood, that it really was ok, that things wouldn’t ‘get weird’ between us.

The rest of the days spent at my place passed with each of us refusing to talk about that night. I gotta pat myself on the back for doing a good job of switching back to being just friends. After a few days, She went back to stay at the place that She’s renting while She’s down here.  And I cried for a while.

But the thing about tears is that they bring healing. And with healing comes some measure of clarity. So it’s one month later, and while I still don’t really get it, or her, after thinking about what went down I’ve come to a few conclusions:

1.      sometimes what I think I want, no matter how bad I want it, may not be what’s best for me.

2.      sometimes, someone may truly like me but that does not mean that they are  capable of seeing me in the way I wish that they would.

3.      if I have to cajole, hint, or coax you into seeing me for who I truly am – if I feel as though I have to ‘sell’ my attributes to get you to give me a chance – you’re not The One.

4.  I really am worthy of so much more than She can give; I’m as good a catch as I think that She is. And so…

5.      one of these days, the right woman is going to come along who will want me the way that I want her, and who won’t make me work so hard for her heart.

I have got so much love to give, so much that sometimes it feels as though its going to overflow from my chest. But you know what? I’m going to keep living, one breath at a time, keep doing my own thaaang one step at a time; and one of these days she’ will manifest, ready to receive what I’ve got to offer. I ain’t scuuurrred anymore, so I don’t have to rush the process   :-)

Incog’ signing out…