Def. The quality or state of being clear- Webster’s dictionary
Clarity…the *aha* moments in life. I’ve realized that a specific situation has been positioning itself to be an *aha* moment. My ex-factor (we’ll call him El) has been in and out and then in and then out of my life for a long time now. We’ve broken up & made up so many times I can’t even count. At the present time, we are not together (at least according to me). About six months ago, I made an affirmative decision to take a huge time out on our relationship and try this thing called friendship. Truth be told, our relationship started out the wrong way (you know the one you leap without looking where you’re suppose to land kind). And maybe that’s the reason why it’s so hard for us to work this thing out. So I thought lets see how we can just be friends…I wasn’t sure (and I’m still not sure) that it was a doable thing, but I made that decision, and for the most part, I’ve kept to that decision. I realize that it’s really quite impossible to just be friends with your ex (especially if you just broke up), but I also realize that everything has exceptions. I figure that if S (former lovemate & still great friend) and I are still friends, even if was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, I can do this. For a while, I thought..who am I kiddin’ I still dig this guy…and I have to admit that for a while I was just kiddin’ myself. But lately, I’ve been really taking a hard look at the person behind the mask. You see, for the longest time, I’ve been in the crazylove phase (lust combined with bouts of euphoric lovish feelings) that I don’t think I’ve ever taken a real hard look at the persona behind the mask. It ain’t pretty folks! I’m not saying that El sans mask is a horrible human being. Far from that. It’s just that I have been painting a Picasso from our relationship when our relationship resembles that standard four painting I did in primary school. Sometimes you just need to step back and just listen to the truth! Well, the truth was/is loud, its pounding in my head, letting me know that I’m here, and you will listen to me. Well, the truth just told me that your past three years have been a total waste of time…self-inflicted pain. There’s no other that’s more painful than self-inflicted pain. I can deal with the pain that the universe dishes up every so often, but its really difficult to fathom how your “self” can do something so wretched to your “self.” It’s even harder cuz when you realize that you can never get to do-over those years.
So what’s behind the mask you ask? I’ll digress for a second, but I’ll guide you back home..eventually! My folks have been together for now thirty two years. I am truly blessed. I hear stories from pals about just how shity their parents were to each other, and I don’t get it. Really. See, I’ve never ever seen my folks fight..ever. In all my twentysexy years. I’m not saying they never fought..they are human after all…I’m saying I never saw or heard it. I guess they were just good at keeping their business out of their kids lives. The only time I ever had a sniffle, was one day when we driving back home from our farm in Ol Karau in our Nissan doublecab pickup that was filled to the brim with all sorts of goodies you can get from a farm in Ol Karau. Included in this double cab, were an uncle and three noisy children. Anywhoo, we sustain a puncture in the middle of the night in some bundooks. So my dad (aka the protector) gets out of the doublecab p/u and opens up the boot. First, we have to unload all the goodies (including like three sacks of charcoal, a gunia of maize, another of beans) before we can get to the spare tire. We finally get to the spare tire, but alas, the tires flat…courtesy of mamsi who apparently had sustained a puncture a week earlier but had failed to get it fixed. My dad flipped…kidogo…gave mamsi some verbal lip. I’m sure the protector was just worried..woyee, his entire lineage was with him in the middle of nowhere. Anyway, we finally sorted out the puncture thing (after my uncle hitchhiked to fix the tire). But what I remember most about that night is my dad apologizing to mamsi…he was absolutely kissing ass…but it was really sweet…you know the way when a jamaa messes up and he comes back puppy eyed to beg for forgiveness..that way. I don’t know why that has stayed with me all these years…probably cuz it’s the only time I recall anything amiss between my folks. Can you imagine that’s the most I can come up with about my folks not being in tune with one another…sad huh?
Coming from that background, you have to understand, this is the foundation of all my relationships. The way a man and a woman are suppose to relate to each other in a marriage. So, you can’t blame me for aspiring to have this and more. My childhood was filled with peace, and I’d like for my kids to have the same. So, the bar is really high as I set my aspirations to choose my “one.” Note: I said “choose”- men pursue and find, women choose. The younger I get (ha!) I have had to adjust the application…you know to allow for things like affirmative action & diversity… increase the application pool so to speak. Some folks just need a step in the door kinda thing. The older..ahem..younger I get, my willingness to negotiate has slowly expanded. But, there are just a few things I call “character” that are non-negotiable. Like respect, ambition, God fearing, commitment. I’ve realized that a relationship, especially a marriage, is not made of nice looks, or an earth shattering shag (I helps though), or how great he looks in his buff body. Is this man willing to hang in through thick and thicker? Is this a man that can pray me through a storm? Is this a man that will hold my hand and comfort me when I bury a loved one? Will this man penda me when my boobies droop to the ground? Will he put our family first before all else? I’ve been feeling my biological clock tick tocking rather loudly…but I refuse to take this marriage thing lightly. I have to look at myself too… I’m I ready to be committed…forever and ever. no trizex. No do-overs. I can’t get mad and storm out. I can’t take a break or time out. I can’t be selfish anymore… I have to share my money cuz its “our” money now. I have to learn to love your family even when some of them drive me crazy. I have to take you with your baggage. WoW! Love is a many splendid things..its a high, euphoric, mind-altering, make you wear a diaper and drive all the way to Florida kinda thing. But it’s also a choice. You wake up each day and you make a choice to be with this person through all seasons. Everyday you choose!
So back to my mask… I’ve realized we started out on the wrong footing. And that has just been the path our relationship has taken. I pursued you… I shouldn’t have…men need to pursue..women need to be pursued. I was ready…you were not. I wanted you to make a commitment when you couldn’t. I stooped so low that I lost all respect for myself…I think you lost respect for me along the way. You walked all over me because I let you. I talked myself into thinking everything was ok! And that if I pretended she/they didn’t exist, then she/they didn’t. Crazylove has a way of making even the most lucid person dumb as a brick. When you are in crazylove you can talk yourself into jumping off a cliff. But along the way, you fell off my pedestal. You stopped being the “one”, and become someone. Another one. The sad thing is that I know you will be back…and you may even the attributes of the “one” but I don’t know if I/we can erase our beginning. I want to have a story to tell my kids and grandkids about this man that moved me, shook me to my core, and allowed me to see God in him. I want that…I pray for that!
