Wednesday, January 28, 2009

To whom it may concern

I remember when the first time I fell in love. Interestingly enough, I was too young and naïve to recognize it as such … and I was too afraid of embracing my sexuality to fully investigate what it is I was feeling. He ended it in what I thought was a whirlwind of nonsense (he eventually admitted that his mommy told him that if he continued to be in this lifestyle that she could not be a part of his life – nice) and I felt that he was totally ignoring his feelings for me for a reason I did not fully understand. I wish he would have told me at the time exactly what was going on – if for nothing else so that I could fully understand what I was dealing with. Instead, I dealt with a closeted issue that I couldn’t talk to anyone about (because no one knew of my propensity to sleep with men!) and that I didn’t fully understand … all the while oblivious to the fact that what I was feeling was love. Suffice it to say, I was a fucking mess. For a long, long time.

But it taught me my ability to feel deeply – when I finally realized it was love, I stood in awe at my own emotional capability to feel as much. And it’s never been that way since.

Now that’s not to say that I am closed to the idea – I think I’ve just been guarded about my heart. Lord knows that when I allow myself to get there again, I need some guarantees … while nothing is forever (I mean, someone has to outlive the other, right?) I’m not about to deal with such foolishness as “my momma said no.” Does that make sense? When I allow myself to feel that intensely again, it will definitely be until death do us part. If I have to kill you for actin’ a fool, then I’m good with that too.

So, when I’m on the other side of the fence, watching someone allow himself to succumb to intense feelings for me and simultaneously being confronted with the reality that there are obstacles (such as distance, children, current relationships and the like) I take the high road. I did not want to be flippant and dismissive and not discuss the reality behind why I made the decision that I made. I wanted him to know exactly what he was dealing with. And so I told him. Everything. Every issue. All of it.

I refuse to ASK you to leave your current relationship – and it’s obviously not ending anytime soon. I refuse to ASK you to leave your children and live miles and miles and miles away from them. In fact, I realized that if you were willing to do either one, I’d lose respect for you. In addition, I feel as if I’m this new book you’ve picked up to read before you completely finished the previous book. I’m much too important to me to be in a relationship with someone who is otherwise committed, albeit in name only. I refuse to accept anything less than 100% of you, of anyone … because I’m 100% available.

I’ve lived. I’ve learned.

I’ve come completely clean and while I understand the emotions that drive you to text me about love and then immediately text me about hating me … I can’t allow myself to be subjected to attack after attack, followed by outpourings of apologetic love. In many circles it’s termed emotional abuse … and if this were actually happening IN PERSON, it could easily escalate to domestic violence.

And folks, there WILL be peace in my home. I grew up in a house riddled with strife and I refuse to abide in a place that has me on pins and needles. Did I tell you that one time I walked in on my step-dad choking my mother? Did I tell you that I politely grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen? It’s amazing the way reality blurs away when someone is attacking your momma. Shit like this was common place – one time my brother took a knife to the man too … broke the drawer we kept the utensils in, he pulled it so hard. Neither of us got to stab him, though. Mom was always trying to play intermediary. (To this day, however, I still say the man deserved a good bludgeoning - dique choking my momma ... )

But today? There will be PEACE in my home. I will not allow strife to enter via door nor window, text nor IM, blog nor voicemail. Strife – you are not welcomed here.