Nervous

You now sometimes it really amazes me the extent to which I cannot stop thinking about you. I'm coming home this weekend, and the last conversation we had was the beginning of yet another hiatus to our speaking to each other. I'm really lonely Bird... I realize that I have been out here for damn near 5 years and I don't have a life that sustains my happiness. Though I drift in and out of it, its getting harder and harder to ignore that I need more love around me. I have been taking the time to get to know myself and though its a really hard action for me to take sometimes when I do, it really makes me feel good. I realize that I usually shy away from taking time for me. I find someone... anyone to stroke my ego when I feel alone. I'm trying to give to myself the feeling that being alone doesn't have to equal being lonely. My loneliness is directly related to extent to which I keep good people in my life and accessible. I always feel myself unworthy. I also judge my worth by what I THINK others think of me. The thing is that I don't really know myself that well. In any event, I'm coming home to get Kayla this weekend to bring her back to NYC for a few days. I know that I won't be reaching out to you while I'm there so I thought I'd talk to you on here. Just feeling like I can at least speak my mind in some space that you might stumble across is a bit more comforting than the thoughts I've been having lately. But those things are projections. They guide my behavior solely based on fear which is the part of my life that I need to move past. I tell myself how things will turn out and I get scared of the outcome when I only made it up. It could just as easily be something else, but I make it something that will scare me into submission. Non-action. Stagnation. I am beginning to believe that all things are one thing, and this life and its destiny (which includes mine and yours) are all written with the same hand. Of course we have free will, but the projections aren't necessary. To feel and act with the knowledge that what I need to know will be made available to me is my only obligation. Still nervous. I want to keep writing until that knot in my stomach goes away. Way back when I left for New York, I began to practice that idea. That the now is where my focus needs to be and any anxiety i feel is just my imagination. An exercise in futility. It is my mind being somewhere that isn't right here right now. Right now I am at work writing you a blog post in some attempt to be closer to you because my heart won't heal its feeling that I've somehow failed you. Which translates somehow into me failing myself. And I don't know about you, but to feel like a failure is a really painful thing. I keep wanting it to stop. For everything to just go back the way it was. Its like I sometimes emerge from my little life bubble to see about folks and feel like things should not have changed after all the time that has passed. But its still passing, and I'm still in my bubble. I think its time to get to the next experience. My failure in life is not accepting when things are over and a transition is upon me. I eventually get to it but most times its so disruptive and drastic... but I guess that's revolution. Its not designed to be smooth. Its destructive. Never be scared at any point in time to sacrifice who you are for who you could be. - I started therapy. The therapist is a black guy named Steve. Been in the business for 20 years. Just going to him started to give me hope for the future. I need that space to get these things out of me. I plague myself with the silence that I keep. And its nobody else's fault that I'm not voicing my concerns than my own. I've been too quiet for too long. I want my life to be a neat little package where everyone is free and noone gets hurt, but its not coming when I lie or just shut up. Gotta get this stuff out of me. So that I can move on. It won't work any other way. While stifle oneself for the benefit of another when you both need to speak up? The knot is gone now... Thanks Bird. Carl

At the Precipice

Sitting in my room watching Love & Basketball. Thinking about you. Now that things are coming closer to being a reality, I get more and more scared. I was recently reading about the lessons I've come to this earth to learn and teach. When it comes to learning, my lesson is how to accept love. I have a tendency to detach from real love. The fear I have is so large. The idea that we could actually be together. To know that someone on this lonely little planet truly loves me no matter what. Its almost like I don't deserve it. I chase fame. I chase pussy. I drink and smoke and take poor care of my health. I'm such an imperfect being.

But when I was a 14 year-old kid scared of sharing my thoughts with anyone in this new environment. You were there. When I was at the brink of despair, you grabbed Sami, jumped in your marvin, and came to see me. I remember that after that visit, you sent me a letter that I never received. When we spoke a few weeks later you had an AT-TI-TUDE. Come to find out, the letter was your expression of missing my presence and wanting to talk about being together again... It just wasn't time.

Whats funny is that the both of us have always talked about our story with each other. Its just so interesting. It has taken some serious turns that neither of us knew were coming. The constant is that when we look back at each other at the end of each phase - we are still in love. No matter the plot, the ending is the same. And when I sat across from you in Rosebud and we broke bread like we always do, I knew I still loved you. That love made us miss planes when we were doing the long distance thing. And like magic - I missed my plane back to NYC. I didn't even TRY to get another one. I was so happy to find out I could spend another night.

Bird... how about we try to see what life has left for us together? I'm on my way. Just know at this very moment. I am thinking of you.

Brown Sugar

Wow... its been quite sometime since I've written in this thing. I actually called you today because the movie Brown Sugar came on. I remember years ago when you were with Marc, you called me out of the blue and damn near demanded that I watch Brown Sugar. "It's our story. I was sitting next to Marc watching it and he kept comparing it to he and I and kept thinking to myself 'yeah you are Boris Kodjo, not Taye Diggs.'" And I sit here now thinking the same thing. The two characters have sex right before her wedding and she decides to create space to see things more clearly. He asks "Why are you talking like that? Why does it have to be all or nothing?" How many times have we had that discussion. Sometimes I wish I could just stop this facade I'm carrying. Sometimes I wish you were here watching this movie with me. The two main characters... no extras.

Miss you Bird.

I took seven years...

Remember the story I told you about Laura? You probably don't remember her name, but it was the girl that I might have gotten pregnant. The single question mark about my past that I had lingering in my head. Well, I spoke to her today. Crazy right? I knew her brother Brian lived in NY because I had seen him randomly on the train and we exchanged numbers. One day I made the decision to get her number from him. So I invited him out to get drinks at a local bar in Ft. Greene. Brian's a real cool dude by the way. But on to the answer to the million-dollar question...

I don't have a child.

Wow. I'm not sure if I can fully explain the way that I feel right now. Its weird sometimes when you achieve something that you thought about. Shit its weird most times. Often because its never the way you picture it. But sometimes the surprise stems from knowing that you were the only real obstacle to the achievement. The reality is that I was scared to know. In the beginning of our conversation, Laura was expounding on the number of places she moved between Pittsburgh and Virginia where she now lives. "I moved to _________ for 1.5 years, and __________ for 2 years..." After a while I asked "Wait... how long has it been since CMU?!"

"7 years..."

And I thought to myself "You would have a seven year old child right now." or even crazier still, "it took you 7 years to take responsibility for your life."

Not even...

"I took you seven years to satisfy your curiosity. "

Fear is an extreme and dangerous thing.

What's Going On?

I don't want to use this venue simply to apologize my life away. Other things are going on in my life that I want to share. When we speak, you never ask me straight out how I'm doing. You make a definitive statement about it like "You must be having fun out there" and wait to see if my response agrees or not. I know what you are trying to do, yet my response is always the same. To play down my experiences in order to make you feel better. And on some levels it is true, that this trip is not the most fun thing I have ever done. But I do appreciate where I am physically, mentally and spiritually. And NOTHING is 100 percent one way or another.

Transitioning a bit into another subject... I like having this blog to write to you when I don't have you around to talk to me. There is a kinship that we share that I really can't find with another person. Or haven't found. Its kinda crazy the way I feel like we were destined to be. I remember when Cecy had returned from Spain after that year abroad. She had given me a journal she kept for the entire time she was there. Had to be more than 200 pages of entries all directed to me. I must admit that to this day I have never read the entire thing. It was so massive. I almost felt as if I didn't deserve to have someone hand me such a large chunk of their life in a succinct package like that. That and and the fact that it wasn't all that interesting to me at the time. Don't get me wrong, there were some shining moments, but generally, this is a 16 year old girl, madly in love for the first time, and missing her boyfriend. So there is a lot of "I MISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS YOUUUUUUUUUUU!" going on in there. I skipped a few pages, what I can I say?

My point was that I never realized how connected I feel to you to be able to talk to you even though you aren't listening. In this fashion you realize how therapeutic and selfish communication can be. It all boils down to my feeling like you are the only person I can talk to about MOST things. All of the lovey-dovey stuff that is attached is the other facet of our relationship which is no less vital, but you are my best friend. Why wouldn't I want to write to you. It doesn't even matter if you hear it.

Damn, remember the "Coke-Machine Rhapsody". You know you were never supposed to read that...

I Took you for Granted

When my Grandmother died, I was 11. And I was distraught. I cried daily and displayed behavior that really concerned everyone in my life. I remember my mother trying every trick in the book. She gave me a candle to burn for her, discussed prayers and various ways of viewing death. I think a large contribution to her ineffectiveness was the fact that I never really discussed how I felt with anyone. And that included her. She was just grasping at straws. One day we got into a discussion and I told her the moments I kept playing back in my head: The moment when I came home to find that grandma wasn't there and mama told me she was dead, and the sight of grandma in that coffin. When she heard that she smiled.

"Oh... you keep replaying the end, baby. Stop thinking about the sad stuff. You knew grandma your entire life and all you can see is her leaving. Just think about a time she made you laugh. There were far more good times in your relationship with her than bad. Focus on the good."

After about a week of practicing this advice, I didn't feel so bad anymore. Its impossible to hold both a good and bad thought in your head at the same time.

I wish that for you. That you didn't continue to replay the bad times in our relationship continuously and upset yourself so. I feel as if we are in a place now where I can't win for losing. Everything I do will be held against me. And at this point you begin to make up things about me to justify why I would have hurt you so.

Let me stop psychoanalyzing you. The point of this post is to express how deeply sorry I am that I took your love for granted. Nowadays, I attempt to contact you with nothing but the greatest of intentions and you immediately respond with hostility. Its to the point that I am scared to death to reach out and contact you, not knowing what the result of my efforts will be. The truth is, I am really uncomfortable with the person you have become. And that is because I don't think you love me anymore. I've never met this India. And I'm scared to get to know her. I took for granted that our love was one that would endure... to be honest I still believe that. But I can't approach this India in the same fashion as the last one.

I took you for granted. A lesson that I will take to my grave. I'm sorry for that.

The Travel Prayer

Today, I left New York to come to Winston-Salem North Carolina. I was thinking about you non-stop. I texted you to share the traveler’s prayer and hopefully alleviate some tensions between us. A little more than a week ago (by now I guess two weeks) I had called two times in a row asking for your work address. I had this thought in my head of sending you a bouquet of flowers. Valentine’s Day was rapidly approaching and I didn’t want you to be left out… in fact I wanted you to be able to show off at work specifically. Now I have a habit of leaping before I look. And in this case (as in most) it turns out to have disastrous consequences. In this case, it prompted you to call me and make a decision that you no longer want to talk to me. As you communicated it to me, the entire ordeal was childish. “I work for the Chicago Transit Authority… FUCKING LOOK IT UP!”

In retrospect you were right. I realize now that it was pointless to have called in the first place because not only could I have looked it up but Valentine’s Day was actually on a Saturday. Had I thought about this thoroughly before hand, I probably would not have called. And maybe more than anything, that’s what you were upset about; the lack of thought that I put into my actions when it comes to you, especially given the circumstance that we are in. I have a lot to prove to you. So any blunder, no matter how small is merely foundation for whatever it is that you are currently thinking about my character. I’m not going to get into what you think because to be honest, I’m not exactly sure. The point is that night you decided that you were finished.

So on to today’s conversation. It had been plaguing me that I just let you assume that I was making a childish attempt to call so that I could get in good with you. I wanted you to know that I had the best of intentions. Your response was
“Stop it. If you wanted to send me flowers you would have done it. I’m not hard to find. You didn’t need anything from me.”

To tell you the honest truth, it really hurt. I guess the road to hell is paved with my “good intentions”. That just aint good enough. I hope one day you can relieve yourself and that hatred in your heart you have for me. One day…

May God watch between me and thee, while we're absent, one from the other.

Amen