Sometimes love is just not enough and most times it’s not always fair. I know it’s a bit cliche but love can really make you do some CRAZY things, or maybe it’s a broken heart that brings the craziness out of us. Oh, don’t sit up here and read this scrunching your nose up at me, like I’m the only one who has been a fool or did something crazy in the name of love.
That sweet 4 letter word called love is what left me with a broken heart. Love had me thinking I could change a man’s mind when he told me he wasn’t ready for a relationship and wasn’t willing to commit. Love had me thinking that this man was going to be my husband. Love had me holding on for a little over a year when it had probably been over within the first 6 months. Love told me I had to fix up what I played a part in messing up in the beginning, when I would disappear and block him out not calling him for weeks sometimes months when that feeling & voice of discernment that I ignored, was trying to tell me he wasn’t the one. Love had me feeling I deserved to get treated that way. Love had me settling for less when deep down I knew I deserved nothing but the very best. And while I knew I deserved better, that small but loud voice in my head told me I would never find anyone better, and he was as good as I was going to get. That very small but loud voice made me swallow my pride and throw all dignity to the side. I tried to hold on to the tiny pieces of him that he was willing to give. That small voice turned into a louder voice when he told me he was through for the 1st of many times. That voice told me I had to keep him in my life even if it meant making a fool of myself.
When he told me he was through and that we should go our separate ways I went in panic mode. How could he dare try to just throw me to the side like some trash that he was through with?!? How could he throw away all that we had or all that I made myself believe we had. I must’ve called his phone a million times and sent a million texts begging him to not leave me, even said I would kill myself. Yeah, ya girl was just down right pitiful. I couldn’t let go of the man who I thought was my soulmate and I couldn’t let him throw it all away either. After days and days of crying, calling, and texting, he finally saw things my way a little, and he decided to remain in my life, but this time on his terms. He changed his number and called me private. Ain’t that some bs?! But that voice in my head grew louder and louder and told me to just be glad he still called me even if it was private. Unfortunately the crazy didn’t stop there, it had just begun. I was going to play by his rules but add a few of my own. So then the pop up visits started. If I couldn’t speak to him when I wanted, I figured I’d just have to go the extra mile.
With dignity out the window, I would drive to his house in the middle of the night knock on his window and didn’t care what he thought or how he felt. The first few times he would get mad and tell me to stop coming by, but the rebellion spirit in me didn’t care what he said. The craziness was in full effect. Not just any crazy but crazy as in me coming down with the flu & strep throat, but I couldn’t focus on getting better, that man consumed my mind. If the flu & strep throat thought it was stopping my show, it had another thing coming. I did another one of my pop up’s, we argued for about an hour playing the blame game back and forth, but by the time the argument was over I was apologizing and unzipping his pants to go down and show my love for him, I guess in my own way to make my apology a little more sincere, and then when I was finished, I left like I had just done something so wonderful when in actuality, I looked like a damn fool. But I didn’t care. If I was going to play a fool, I was going to be the best fool ever.
Arguments got worse, he grew more distant, he’d call it quits, I’d beg him to come back, he’d tell me nothing was going to change, he still didn’t see us going anywhere but if I wanted to “chill” we could still do that. We chilled for a few more months then as all good things come to an end, he text me one night saying he couldn’t do it anymore and how he had to say goodbye NOW to focus on his life. I was devastated. I sent him a long text telling him how much I hated him, but the person I really hated was myself. I hated that no matter what, I couldn’t undo the feelings I felt for him. I hated him because I allowed myself to settle. I hated him because in my mind I had the perfect fairy tale ending for us. I even thought God had destined us to be together. But one thing about goodbye, there’s always some good in it.
He did what I didn’t have the guts to do no matter how much I was hurting. I couldn’t bring myself to let go. To me letting go meant that I had lost the fight. I thought what if he is really the one for me and I end up regretting it. I was playing God. I was ordering my own steps. I thought love was enough. I thought if I loved him longer and held on stronger that I could get him to see that I was the one for him and he the one for me. I thought if I loved him more and turned into whatever he wanted me to be that I could make him happy. I thought I had enough love to fill in the love that he didn’t have for me.
But for once, I didn’t beg him to stay. I did cry, the ugly cry too, but I let him have his way. If he felt that he needed to let me go to further and better his life, who am I to stop that, it’s what I needed to do as well. I was looking for him to fill in a void that he could never fill. I was looking to him to be my distraction from my own brokenness that I was feeling. I was putting him in the place of God idolizing him. I thought my healing would come from him, but I realized what I needed to do was love myself and draw closer to God. To stay in the word and focus on myself & my kids & being the mother to them that they deserve, and the woman to myself that I should’ve been a long time ago. I made a vow to refrain from sex, and submit to God and let him have his will cause every time I tried to be director of my life I messed up terribly.