this is not my ex:: despite anything I've written to the contrary (like the FL Chronicles, parts I, II and III), FL isn't a two-headed, fire-breathing dragon. He also isn't only an abusive, selfish child, or neglectful parent. He's a man. A normal man (if there is such a thing as normal), with his own flaws and faults. I've done him a disservice by only telling the bad side of his story.
We had a long heart-to-heart, over some braised wings and chinese donuts. and despite the Brown Sugar soundtrack playing in the background, there was no relationship reunion. There was however, closure. And that was peace...
the askew view:: we talked, about being friends, and coparenting, and about him trying, despite the dirt we both did, to be my friend. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, at his use of the word "friend", as it related to me. See, every time he talks about us being friends, we have a "SanaaLathanMoment". He always refers to the first time he fell in love with hip-hop, when I taught him there was more to rap music than Kilo Ali and too short, and his life was forever changed. Suddenly, he was listening to Biggie, Nas and Wu-Tang, eating weird chinese food, and wearing button down shirts and khakis with pleats.
But that's not what I remember about our relationship. My memory of our relationship is of drama, and pain. And blood. I sat there as he talked, trying hard to pull one, unsullied happy memory out of the time we were together. And I could only really pull out one: Me, belly swollen, wearing a pair of brown jodhpurs, his Karl Kani shirt, and some boots. I was about 7 months pregnant, and I was fine. Foine. He'd woke up that morning, worshipping my big belly, rubbing it and talking to our son. He made me breakfast in bed, and left me a love note in my lunch, asking me to meet him at Run & Shoot after work, so he could play basketball. I walked into the gym, feeling fine and loved, and two other brothers tried to holler at me, swollen belly and all. I responded, that someone was loving me good, but I appreciated the attention. They already knew - it showed. FL caught a glimpse of me walking in, and beamed at me with pride. That was love.
love, unconditionally:: or as close as I've come to it. Before there was FL, there was X (not because we broke up, but because he resembled a certain brotha from Brand Nubian). And what X and I shared, was so intense, and so real. We'd known each other for years, dated off an on. But there was a brief shining period...that we stripped back pretense, and pushed aside pride and agendas...and just loved. He challenged me to be better than I was, and I nurtured the things inside him that only I could see. We listened to Mary J. Blige, took inadvertant road trips to small Georgia towns, cried on each other's shoulders, and laughed uncontrollably.
I remember us arguing one night, loudly as his friends played Nintendo (pre-Playstation) in the other room. He shushed me, and we agreed to take it outside. We walked out to our apartment's patio, down to a stand of trees that nestled a large lake next door. We screamed, shouted and cried together...and agreed that we were not meant to be. He (in his mind) wasn't good enough for me; he wasn't smart enough, and he wasn't driven enough. He pictured me with a doctor, or lawyer, and he was just some regular ole nigga from around the way. He wasn't ready for a commitment, and he couldn't love me the way I deserved...couldn't give me the things I deserved. None of my tears could convince him otherwise. At the end, he kissed my forehead sweetly, and I ran my lips over the nape of his neck. And under the stars, on top of the mud-soaked leaves, at the base of a pecan tree, next to the moonlit lake, we made love slowly and sweetly. That was love.
JC:: the closest thing to real, adult love that I've never come to. We went to high school together, never dated, but were on each other's radar. He: thug lovin, and dropped out early to join the military. Me: 1st yr nerd become 2,3 and 4th year diva-star, so intimidating that freshmen think I'm a teacher.
Jump to 17 yrs later, and 3 years after the FL chronicles had ended - we run into each other at the Flashback Festival. JC was resplendent in a cream-colored Sean John long-john shirt, jean shorts and Timbos. Me, chilling in a black halter top, palazzo pants and some Vicky's Secret thong stillettos. A gold diggin friend points him out to me, her stunned momentarily by the shiny bling hanging around his neck. And yeah, I was momentarily wettened looking at his bald head. But despite my golddiggin friend forcing me to stalk this dude for about 15 minutes, I put his fineness outta my head. Until I went to get a glass of wine, get caught up with my homegirl's boring alumni brothas, and see Mr. Fine mouthing to me across the crowded courtyard: "Aren't you Saga 30311?" Suddenly, the conversation around me stops, actually the world stops turning momentarily, and I remember slowly nodding yes. "Didn't you go to XXXXX Tech H.S.? I must've looked like a straight Diva-fool as I loudly said "Oh Shyt!!!" in slow motion, and the world began turning again. The boring alumni brothas, my homegirl, and the golddiggin friend all gave me the "what the hell look" as I strode across the courtyard to meet him, again. I don't remember what he said after that really - it didn't much matter. Some small talk about our alma mater, and some classmates I suppose. What I do remember is asking him if he was married, and when he laughed no, I asked him would he like to..and when he laughed loudly afterward, my frozen heart melted. He was the sunshine, that myn 3 yr post-FL celibacy needed to grow.
We didn't immediately get together. He was involved, and I was still celibate. But we hung out, had dinners, watched movies, held hands, and bonded. We were homegirl-homeboy, we were wantonly kissing in restaurant parking lots, we were sending each other text messages during business meetings. He had his own business, and asked me to support him. His daughter got sick, and I sent him home to take care of her, when his business finances couldn't afford it. I was working on my undergrad, and asked him to understand my time constraints in pursuing it. It was far from perfect, but it worked. Until I found out he was sharing his life with someone else. Huge blowout, bad breakup. I vowed never to speak to him again.
Fast-forward, 2 yrs later: September 11th, 2001. Both being from Buffalo, having family in NY, it crossed my mind to call him, and see if everyone was okay. But the moment passed. Then, on September 27, 2001 - I got a call from my mother's oncologist. My mother had died of cancer. And I was flat broke. I was at the tail end of a 6 month unpaid internship, with no means of getting home to bury my mother. I called everyone I knew, every ex I could think to contact, to no avail. No one could/would help me. Until I called JC:
JC: what do you want?
me, sobbing: I wouldn't call, but it's an emergency...and...I can't even say it
JC: man, I am not trying to hear this, I've got things to do...
me, hysterical: my mom is gone. She's dead. I'mbroke,andIdon'thaveawaytogethome,andnoonewillhelpmeandIhavetoburymymomandI'maloneandIdon'tknowwhattodo...
JC: give me 15 minutes. I'll be there, and I'll send you home...
I don't know, sometimes life or God sends people to you for a purpose. To teach you things, or show you what real love can be. What I do know is that despite circumstances, since then JC has tried to be there for me. We finally made love a year after that day, and it was sweet and gentle. And we've fought like cats and dogs since. I've never trusted him fully, his living arrangements always looming under the surface, and he's never made himself 100% available. But for a while, he gave me what I needed, and that was all I wanted. That was love.
full circle:: I've known love, pre-FL, and post-FL. I listened to FL reminisce about us, and it didn't sadden me, or raise my anger. It was just what it was - a memory. I'm sitting here, in peace and contentment, really listening to what FL is saying about what we'd shared. About listening to Biggie, and eating Chinese donuts, and wearing the occasional suit. He finally tells me he doesn't want to get back with me - because he doesn't really like the corporate whore I've become (he actually used the word bitch, and I'm ok with that). He tells me he wishes we could be friends, like X and I have become, and I tell him it will happen, in time. He asks how JC and I are doing, and I finally feel secure in telling him it's over, and has been for a long time. And we agree to have a friendly dinner real soon, on neutral territory, to toast our newfound friendship. I'm still somewhat scarred and bitter about the things that happened between us. And he's still resolving the mental image he has of his 'girl' with the bitch that I've become. But we're both healing. And that's love. That's the ex-factor.
What is it about ex's and wanting to get back...SMDH.
You learn something from everybody and even reading this post I've learned something. I feel you on closure. People think that doesn't matter but its so very necessary.
@ coolbabe - girl, you probably know more than some women 2X your age - some people don't really "get" the lessons they're supposed to learn, yanno? The main thing I'm grateful for learning - is that its constant, and so is growth.
@ yolie - YANNO?! If FL& I can just get past that point, I'll be eternally grateful.
@shai - the ugly but honest answer: some guys will want/take any a$$ they can get, even the a$$ they know they don't deserve, and/or a$$ that causes them drama...wait, but so will women..sounds like a whole 'nother post.
Saga, I feel ya. My ex (never married, planned to get married though) called me the other day about our 15-year-old and Christmas. LOL. I don't put much into his intentions anymore cause they fall through. He take care of her financially, I never had a problem with that and never had to go to court.
Anyway, he is tryin to talk like when we were teenagers and bestfriends. NOT! I told him if he is not on point with the parenting thing I cannot kick it like we did back in the day. He has the nerve to say I am family. Yeah right!
We had a love I will not forget but that is that. The touchy feely conversations are over. He still yearns for that even with his married/separted/ drama butt.
Why do guys fuck over you then still want your intimacy?
I read this yesterday and was like "wow!" I had to wait a day to respond to it. This went deep and, the funny is, my relationship with the ex- ended similarly. He wanted to get back, I wanted to get out.
wow..
I am thinking, i stress so much about men, relationships at 26, and sometimes i think i have seen it all, yet you have gone through so much.. i guess there is so much to learn out of this life.