The lack of enthusiasm
should have been the first clue that you really weren’t the one for me.
I had to celebrate myself so many times.
My news was always met with a lackluster ‘yay’ before the subject changed to something more your speed.
Macros or Microsoft,
whatever peaked your interest at the moment.
It was my fault though.
I let that shit slide so many times that it became routine.
Bombarded with excuses,
I easily attributed it to your upbringing,
your past relationships,
previous experiences,
maybe you didn’t know any better.
Never had an example,
never experienced true admiration and adoration.
I had to teach you.
I thought if I led by example you would fall into place,
instead you fell right into a place of comfort. As such, I became okay with things being just okay.
I never was a just okay kind of woman.
I was good with drive,
unadulterated desire,
and a longing so strong that it kept me up at night.
Just okay was not what I was accustomed to.
I had flings with more fire than our most heated exchanges.
But I wanted simplicity.
I wanted easy.
Easy sounded better.
I didn’t want to have to worry about you not coming home at night.
I was in no mood to second guess your every move.
You were predictable.
Everything about you was safe.
I was safely in a state of settling.
It was easy to love you.
I gave you my everything, even though you asked for nothing in return.
You gave what you needed to keep things going.
That too should’ve been a sign that I was not where I was supposed to be.
I had to think back.
Had it been this way from the beginning, with you giving just enough to keep me pacified…
Satisfied with the sexual energy, yet yearning for more soul.
Again, I just thought you didn’t know any better.
But you did.
I chose to ignore.
I had somebody else in the beginning.
You were a distraction,
from the real attraction
that had me shackled.
I left him alone.
Completely set my intentions on you.
Eager you were,
or so it seemed.
I was impressed by things that should’ve been the norm.
I gave you credit for doing what you were supposed to do.
Put you on a pedestal for performing the simplest of tasks.
I was excited because you cooked me breakfast,
Not seeing pass the fact that you cooked yourself breakfast.
You wanted to eat.
I just happened to be there to get a plate.
It was never for me.
I pat you on the head and said good dog more times than were deserved.
I gave you treats.
Showered you in my essence.
Adorned your skin with oil.
Laid rose quartz beneath your pillow every night.
Bathed you in my kisses.
Inhaled every inch of you.
I wanted you to feel my love.
I pleaded with God to give me a forever with you, and it was forever that I began to prepare for.
Made peace with my newfound purpose.
I fell back and learned how to walk in sync with your shadow.
I was secure.
What we had felt like home.
It was never having to get dressed up.
It was loose-fitting pajamas and eating fast food straight from the carton,
laughing at our inside jokes.
I wasn’t flourishing,
But I wasn’t floundering either.
I was pleasantly stagnant.
At ease, snug and sheltered from the complexities of the world.
Not growing…
Contained.
That’s not how life goes.
Not for me.
Stifled.
Still.
No.
I needed to be set free.
The rug needed to be pulled from underneath my feet.
I had to fall.
Knocked down.
In order to get up,
Stronger,
Better,
Focused.
The irony of it all.
The celebration began,
the moment
you let me go.
Hopefully,
You, too.
Are being,
Truly,
Celebrated.
This just resonated with my soul. More than a word. This is scripture.
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