Letter To Her (Or, Lettin’ It All Hang Out, LOL)

So… we’re sitting here now, or more likely you’re sitting here by yourself because I probably walked away right after putting this letter into your hand. I know, despite all of my ‘chat’ – I’m still a bit of a coward, LOL. So anyhow, I guess you probably want to know what this is about. What’s so hard for me to say, that I had to write it down and hightail it outta here. Here’s the thing: 

I wrote this letter to you, before I ever even met you. 

You’re probably wondering what I mean by, ‘before I ever even met you’.  If you think it’s funny or even weird, just chalk it up to one of my little quirks. Writing is one of those things that I’ve just gotta do. Helps me to get clear about what I really want out of life. But something tells me that you already get that about me, anyway. So, if you’re reading this now, trust that you and I have gotten to a point where I think it’s safe to share my thoughts with you (I know, I know. This may have taken a while…) 

Maybe I’ve watched you without saying anything, and you’ve asked me what’s on my mind. Maybe I’ve said ‘nothing’.  This has probably happened several times, by now.  Well, this letter basically tells you what I’ve really meant to say… 

See, I wrote this letter a long time ago and printed it, keeping a copy tucked safely away, on call until after I met you; until the moment I was sure that you were, indeed, “Her”. (again, I know it took a while, LOL) And, since the time I wrote this letter until now, I’ve posted it up on my blog – the one you didn’t even know that I keep, until now   Maybe as a sort of a prayer to the universe.  Or maybe just as a sort of reminder, whenever I feel as though I’m forgetting what’s truly possible.  Gotta tell you – it’s kept me from mistaking alot sistas that I’ve met, for you. 

Before I wrote this, the hardest thing about waiting to meet you was loneliness.  Even writing those words is so hard because no one wants to think of themselves as ‘lonely’. But in the interest of clarity, I promised to always remain honest with myself – it was what it was. 

Loneliness is a bitch. Because it makes you do things that you shouldn’t. Being lonely made me go on a wild chase trying to find you. It made me settle for women who I had no business letting near me – because for a long while I’d given up on ever finding you. It made me forget who I am, lose who I am, in the interest of holding onto people who didn’t, or couldn’t, really care. Of that I am not proud. 

I tried not to turn bitter, but the truth is sometimes I did get a little angry. I felt hurt, wondered why I couldn’t find what I wanted.  I have so much that I’ve wanted to give to someone special, and it hurt deeply that I didn’t have that someone to give it to.  Can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried inside, choosing to swallow tears because pride wouldn’t allow them to run down my cheeks. Kinda like I’m almost ashamed to admit that I’m doing now, as I type this. All because I missed; really, really yearned for; someone that I never even met. I can smile at that now, but at the time I typed these words, it didn’t seem so funny, I guess   

The trouble with this kind of yearning is that I ran the risk of idealizing you in a way that made you less real. But, still, I have my head on. The truth is that I know that you’re just as human as I am; you have your quirks, habits, moods, the same way that I do. But yours are all things that I can live with, you know? They make up an important part of you. Besides, the basic principles that make you the woman you are – those remain constant. And that’s what’s important to me. 

But the moment that I wrote this, I finally became really comfortable with not looking.  I just continued working on myself and reaching some goals I’d set. It kept me occupied    I had a clearer picture of who you are in my head, so it made it easier to spot, and not get distracted by, sistas near me who weren’t quite ‘you’. 

                                                                                                                                                                                      Needless to say, there are a lot of things that I don’t know about you, as I sit here typing this – how you look, what your pet peeves are, etc… but here’s what I know for sure… 

-         you’re creative. maybe a painter? A photographer? A poet? A sculptor? A filmmaker? A playwright?  I dunno (this is, after all, the future, LOL); but I do know that whatever way you express yourself, you do it with such passion and commitment that it gives you that glow that says, I was born to do this.

-         You have a backbone. You stand up for what you know is right. Maybe you even use your art as a means of resistance against the messed up shit that goes on in society around us…

-         I didn’t meet you in no club, LOL. Clubs and dancing are cool; I love to go out and have a good time; but you and I both know that it’s usually not conducive to making a real connection with anyone…

-         you don’t smoke… (after having dated several smokers, this one has become a deal breaker with me) 

-         you’re more of a social drinker… (a couple drinks is cool. but, getting snogged out of one’s mind??? another deal breaker, lemme tell ya)

-         You possess tact, and a quiet dignity about you. In other words, you carry yourself as the queen you truly are. You’re comfortable with all of who you are, and you emit that knowledge of self through every pore…

-         You truly dig me. You light up whenever you see me – the same way that I do whenever you’re around. 

I know these ideals exist, and so I know that you exist. The truth remains that I have seen you reflected in the faces of a small handful of sistas that I have been blessed to come across. Each one of them has some, or even a lot, of the characteristics that you have. Whether it’s a smile, a way with words, or the way she carries herself – each of those sistas renewed my faith in you – even if they aren’t even aware of it. 

I wonder where you’re from?  Maybe you’re from right here, wherever I’m at right now… But probably, you’re from somewhere a lot further away. The thing is, I’d always told myself that I wouldn’t let distance be an obstacle, in the long term, if the sista turned out to be worth the effort. I’ve never been afraid of the idea of moving and starting over, somewhere new. 

Maybe you have kids. If so, trust that I welcome them into my heart, the same way I do you. Or maybe you don’t have any. If this is the case, I look forward to having that, in time, with you. 

By now, I know some or most of what you’ve dealt with before we became ‘us’. Maybe you had some good experiences before, or maybe you had some not-so good ones. All I know is that, that was then As for now, and us – I do what I can to ensure that you feel secure in what we have. Thank you for not making me jump through hoops to do so. I give of myself to you, because it makes me happy to know that you’re happy. I give of myself to you because you’re the only woman who has ever truly deserved that from me. 

Basically this letter is about me saying, from the bottom of my heart, Thank you. For waiting until I was truly ready to receive you. For gracing me with your aura, your gifts, and your love.  For choosing to see past whatever faults I have, and wanting to be the one who sees what I’m really worth. 

Because, for all that I’ve put myself through – every time you smile, each time you hold my hand, I remember that you were more than worth the wait. 

Now that you stand here before me, finally tangible; beautiful; perfect in whatever you think are your imperfections – please know that I love you with all my heart. And please tell me – taking into consideration that I wrote this before I met you – was I off by much? Cuz right now, my friends think that I’ve become too picky to ever find you. Yet here you stand. So, do you think that my daydreams raised the bar too high???  See, something inside is telling me that it was a good thing I chose, from this letter’s moment on, not to lower it one bit. Because you’re here, now. Soul Mate made manifest. And you know what the funny thing is? 

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I don’t even know your name yet.  

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Love, 

Incog’

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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…