The topic of discussion is always the various forms of love brought to you by my imagination. Now, let me tell you why you shouldn’t believe the hype of allowing the return of a love that was lost. It is said, “Let go and if your love returns then it was meant to be.”
What they really mean to say is “Let go”.
Love Letter from ’07
Back in the day I was a doe eyed teenager determined to have my high school sweetheart become my husband. The first problem is that I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend so I snuck him behind my mother’s back. Most of our communication was had between the hours of 8:00am and 4:30pm, during school hours we passed folded notes (directly to each other or via a trusted friend). When we text, the name would come up on my screen as ‘Liz Naugher’. My mom borrowed my phone once while hers was charging, it was her way of snooping, and Liz called late at night. My mom handed me the phone and said, “Liz must be sick or something, her voice is a little deep.”
The second problem was that he was attractive, and I wasn’t the only girl in school who thought so. I had to check so many girls before I realized I had not a thing to worry about. I had me a lil’ bae who listened. On our first date, after parental approval and advice from my great aunt, we held hands and prayed over our meal. He had some sort of chicken dinner and I had a salad. The whole night he wondered why I didn’t eat real food and how I was full.
(Tea: I ate a full dinner prior to our date because women are supposed to be lady like and eat light when out. Saves the man a few dollars and will also have them thinking about their health)
The third problem was that we didn’t know who we were in the world. I had no freedom and when it came to hanging out I often had to split my time to satisfy the needs of all my friends, and as you can assume I had plenty. He was struggling between being the rap loving, ho pimping, stereotypical black male and the Church going, piano playing, women praising male he was raised to be. Eventually my time went to my friends and his went to exploring the depths of the stereotypical-culture.
In the end our problems, though they were few, drove a wedge in the strengthening of our relationship. I always thought he was flirting, due to daily reports from many people I didn’t know existed. He thought I was a flirt, because I had been voted biggest flirt (lies) by the populace. Despite conflict we were each other’s’ first everything. Our love seemed never-ending and somewhat similar to Sam and Ronnie—dramatic? Yes.
Eventually, he cheated (or pretended to) and although in a relationship had not talked to me for thirty-three days; so I broke up with him in the most dramatic way possible. Oh- it was bad and seventeen-year old me was not shit for doing so.
In my new relationship, I was told not to have any communication with him because he was a snake, not that I planned on it anyhow.
So, for four years I ignored every message: every happy birthday, every happy anniversary (of ours), every ‘happy birthday to your mom’, every merry Christmas, every congratulations, every thank you, every ‘I saw you’, every. Single. Message.
He still sent them anyway.
Year four, I found out my current boyfriend had been doing the nasty all around town with the white girls. I shrugged it off, what’s another cheater? We shouldn’t give up when effort is made to do better.
On a grocery shopping trip we passed by my ex, my boyfriend says ‘don’t you say one word to him.’ My ex said ‘hello!’ I said, ‘What’s up!’ and gave him a half hug. ‘Good to see ya, hope everything is going well for you kid.’ Then I ran to catch up with my cheating boyfriend who had stormed off because I had disobeyed his order.
At some point in my singledom I went on a date with my first boyfriend and Lord was he annoying the hell out of me the entire evening. It was not that he was a nice guy and embraced the wholesome ways he had been raised, it was because he faked it and I could read right past his BS. He wasn’t interested in rekindling the flame, he was interested in saying he had won my time and my attention.
I was drainT.
Later on, we hung out from time to time as a way to vent, no one knows my trauma quite like he does and vice versa. One of those times, he brought over the box of love notes from 2007.
We had a good laugh; who told me that I could spell anyway I wanted to? What does figgadealz mean? Which one of those hoes was I constantly complaining about? (probably the same one that my bestie Courtney Walls always complained about) Where did he get his lines from and why did I think they were cute? Lastly, I finally found out how he knew everything I didn’t tell him.
Long story short.
Did we fall back in love?
No.
We do have love for each other though. And much like I do with my other friends old or new, if you come to me with a negative word about him/them and my response is only ‘mhm’ or ‘yup’ you should probably just shut-up.
The old love returned and attempted to make plans to which I declined. What’s the point in even trying when you already know the outcome?
It’s a no, for me. Forever.
He is a great guy and will be suitable for the woman that he should be with.
But, he is not the one for me.
When you let something go, and it returns it does not mean it’s meant to be. Throw that line in the same place you put, ‘and they lived Happily Ever After’ romances.
Star Candelaria 