Friday, May 22, 2009

Second Installment

I’m thinking about you and I,
And where we went wrong.
I’m thinking about us,
I can’t help myself. - Anonymous

This story will be more of an essay with little or no dialogue because I find myself alternating between trying to forget what we said to one another and remembering everything we said. I try to forget about the things we did and the places we went together and in the next moment I remember everything right down the to least significant detail. But when it comes to putting the spoken words on paper and recapturing all of those emotions of the moments we share, I just can’t do it. I can’t do because of the pain and anxiety I feel.
I replay our conversations in my mind during my silent moments; when I’m driving from place to place; at night before I fall asleep. Then there are days and times when I don’t think about her or us at all. Sometimes, I have imaginary conversations with her about the time we shared together and what we should have had together but I can’t quite put all of this in writing – not yet.
When our relationship ended, I called her almost daily on one pretext or another – how are your kids; how’s your car running; how your job; what about your cousin B; how’s your sister and her husband doing? Eventually the conversations would end with her telling me no, again and again.
I told her I wanted to be more than friends. After all, I had been searching for her all of my life and now that I found her, I wanted and needed to be loved by her. If she believed in destiny, she should see that we were meant to be with each other – there was nothing else in the world I wanted but us.
I asked her what would it take for me to win her love again? I wanted to please her. I tried to get her to dream with me of how good it had been and could be again, to remember the intensity of our love and lovemaking.
At first her response was she wasn’t ready. Then she began avoiding the subject of us and started to tell me thing I really didn’t want to hear. Then it became no, again and again – just no.
Now she absolutely refuses to talk to me about our relationship and what happened to us. She won’t discuss what I did or didn’t do. Lately she has become more and more impersonal. Her being impersonal hurts me deeply. It hurts because of what we shared. We shared our minds, our thoughts, our love, our bodies and most of all kind and endearing words. We shared these things between us in another life and in better times.
I guess it pretty obvious, I loved this woman (and maybe still do). So at the end of the day I sometimes find myself chain smoking nearly two packs of cigarettes; feeling depressed and all alone. At this point, I think I will tell you a little about myself. I am 55 years and I’ll celebrate my 56th birthday before I finish this story. I was born in Dallas, Texas to a family of meager means which means we were poor.
Growing up, our household income was well below the poverty line established by the government. Pardon me for saying this, but the sh-t hit the fan when my mother died in an auto accident and left my father with two boys ages 9 and 11. Looking back daddy was ill-equipped mentally, socially and emotionally to raise two boys but all in all he did his best and I bear him no grudges. He did his best and may he rest in peace.
It seems that growing up hard gave me a strong desire to succeed. I graduated with honors and number one in my class from elementary, junior high and senior high. I didn’t participate in athletics or other school activities because from the ninth grade through college, I worked full time.
I graduated high school in January 1971 and two weeks later began college. I earned two bachelors degrees and a master’s degree in a twelve year period while being married and divorced twice. Once again, I did not participate in any college activities because I worked my way through undergraduate and graduate school. I also had three children during that period and their only reward from this process of knowing me and being a part of me was weekends between their mother and me.
If you want to hear more, hit me back (respond to this post) and I’ll continue.
Love and Highest Regards
Big Daddy 54!!!

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

His Story

HIS Story

“A Love Story That Ends With A Broken Heart”


This is a story about a woman I fell in love with in the 80’s and my thoughts, emotions and feeling toward her lasted until October 2006 when she ended our relationship. There were several reasons she gave me for breaking away from us but none I could believe; none that I would accept. She said she needed space; time alone to make some decisions about her marriage. She was married, you see, and had been for 14 years. She and her husband had been separated and when she found me, he crawled out of the woodwork.

She wanted me to wait for her but she admitted that she didn’t think I would. I remember kissing her on the top of her head and telling her “I wasn’t going anywhere”. It’s been nearly three years since I said “I wasn’t going anywhere” and her parting words, our last kiss and our most intimate moments still echo in my mind and weigh heavily on my heart.

There were supposed to be three stories: HIS story (mine); Her story (hers); and Our story. When we finally got together, we talked about our paths, how they crossed over the years, our marriages, our children, our experiences and how we finally made it – being together. Unfortunately for me and you, the reader of this story, there will be only one – HIS story (mine). For you see, I’ve not only lost her love but we are no longer friends and do not communicate with each other.

We promised each other, once we were together, that we would always talk to one another. We would talk out our difference, talk about our problems and never let anything separate us again – either emotionally or physically. We believed we were meant to be together, we believed we were meant for each other. We thought we were happy together. We promise each other and ourselves,,,,,,

This is the first installment – just too wet your appetites. If you want to hear more, hit me back (respond to this post) and I’ll continue.

Love and Highest Regards
Big Daddy 54!!!