And Terrance is Perfect? ~[Classified]
I know where the deck of cards feel, I know exactly where I lost my confidence and lost my security.
I can pinpoint it at the exact moment and time, because I felt my stomach turn. My pride told me to gather my belongings and leave.
My heart told me to stay and be a G, to tap in the reserves, find some "inner g" somewhere and stay.
Luckily vodka provides such a fuel source. So I drunk more of it.
And it did nothing. Not a damn thing.
So I tried to talk, to be heard even if it was not the time and it made matters worse.
So I went home and cried about it. I laid in bed the next day thinking and finally was able to discuss it. I learned that I wasn't really liked and seen as "aggressive". I was even more hurt that my excitement was seen as a flaw. I tried to reason and see the point of view being offered because I've told my son that many times, that his excitement may not be shared.
So I listened. I understood. I updated the profile.
I thought it was tabled. I thought it was resolved.
It wasn't. While I dressed the wound I didn't have the skill to sew up such a wound and little did I know at the time the slightest stress would open it up and slow me down.
I didn't see that coming, but it come it did. And I realized I never got over that.
Up until that point, phase two had been nothing short of perfect. We were back on course. After that night, it went down hill fast. The record supports this.
I did not want to be seen as weak or stubborn or even selfish. I really am none of these things honestly. I am snarky, I am arrogant and I am a tad bit judgemental but selfish isn't a word often used in association with me. I digress. So in the effort to keep the peace, in an effort to stay the course I never addressed my wound. I never, without using hyperbole or spy talk, told her how sad I was.
I kept on drinking, and hiding.
And the wound kept on getting bigger and bigger.
Until little things started to annoy me.
Was facebook really that big of an issue?
Did we really have to text each other 40 times?
Could I really expect to know her in six months more than somebody with 22 years?
Couldn't I have easily created a trip for us?
Wasn't it all so simple?
In my moment of clarity, sans vodka, sans the Blackberry and facebook I see the problem. Shit I saw it then, but just didn't want to come across bad. I should have spoken up and told her at the moment of impact how I felt. I should have told her when my wound re-opened. I tried to shut up and toe the line in the interest of peace and that cost me a piece of my soul and a peace of mind.
She knew it. She asked me often. But I was scared to say "Yeah I'm hella salty. I need for you to hug me, tell me one more time that was for a greater good and screw my brains out". I never said that. I said everything but that. I talked around it, being intellectually coy instead of honest.
I wasn't a man about it. And when you lie to yourself it comes out. In emotion, drinking, insanity, some big negro on your porch in tears. All that. And we retreat into old habits even if they were detrimental. In my case, I became possessive. She ceased being [Classified] and became Black Heroin.
Just like I.Wil ceased being my friend and became my "agent" "the tip of my spear" "my tiger general"
Just like Nickjack ceased being my girl and became Yellow Rose.
Discern the pattern? When threaten or when I feel I am threatened I objectify. It makes it easier for my to second guess and do "what needs to be done" even if it doesn't need to be done. I was supposed to have evolved, grew and doing better. In fact I was doing better. But, damn gravity is ill and when backed against the wall...even if we back ourselves...Black Jesus help us all.
I wanted my heart to be heard but I didn't have the language to make it heard. That happens a lot to me, I can discuss the inner probability of Black politics and love but saying "Hey Queen, this made me uncomfortable" comes out all the way wrong.
And of course there is my issue with timing. I have the worst timing when it comes to matters of the heart. I guess I've been so ignored, my heart so broken I don't pay attention to the world around me. I don't want to be ignored any more by any more loved ones family or otherwise I am going to have my say.
I still struggle with that.
My peers, loved ones and associates think I am arrogant. They think I believe myself to be perfect and I am above reproach. I am so tired of that. I assure you there is no man on the planet who reflects more on the events of his life, wishing for a do over than me. I assure you there is nobody on the planet who broods and looks at himself in the mirror more than I. I am well aware of my flaws and my set backs. I had to rebuild at 30 and like a shitty sports team still rebuilding. I look at my credit score daily, I look at the flaws in my suns they got from me.
I think about all the love I've lost and burned. I've been thinking every moment for the past month and half about this love, how it was a match made in heaven and how it might all end.
Every day.
Seeking redemption
Every day
Proving I belong
Every day
Trying to silence the naysayers
Every..single...day.
Struggling, like an artist gone blind or a composer gone deaf, trying to tap that potential you know is there but yet...
still
fall short.
Struggling. How long have I been fighting the war with the magnet kids?
I am sorry. I don't want pity or sympathy. I only want over and understanding. That what I do I do out of love, for my suns, for the world I want to build.
To have a life that is meaning, and not only defined by service..
That was my quest. And for a moment even in the complications I found peace, or moments of peace. When I was honest to her and to myself.
When I was heard
When I listened
When I learned.
That is what I was trying to find. Peace and in that peace true Black Love.
Trying to break the dynamic of defining love via politics and war,
but definitely not trying to accept a post mod paradigm.
So I look at this deck of cards, and I listen to Jimmi Hendrix...Castles made of sand:
Down the street you can hear her scream you're a disgrace
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
And so castles made of sand fall in the sea, eventually
But then I switch to Stevie who said:
Over time, I've been building my castle of love
Just for two, though you never knew you were my reason
I've gone much too far for you now to say
That I've got to throw my castle away
And though you don't believe that they do
They do come true
For did my dreams
Come true when I looked at you
And maybe too, if you would believe
You too might be
Overjoyed, over loved, over me
Which is truth?
No I am not perfect. I try to find answers. I try to love.
No I find answers, I do love. Even if I don't succeed.
So, we've talked about me, openly and honestly. I've retrospected the storm.
And once again faced the man in the mirror and the test of the spirit.
I don't feel better though. 72hrs ago I had a kingdom.
Today..
fall from grace.
to be rebuilt
over again.
God I love haiku
Straight, No Chaser
TLT
4-6-2009
1:27pm
1 comment:
One blog dissecting you...
All the rest, dissecting her.
Pattern.
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