Thursday, June 11, 2009
Happy To Be Back Home
I flew in tonight amidst a lightening storm that had us sitting on the tarmac for at least 45 minutes. I sat there and felt nothing other than dread. Dread at having to return to a place that has shown me more heartache and pain in the 10 months I have been here than in the 30 plus years I have lived on this earth.
Everytime I have been away… I have yearned for my bed, in my city. Flying into Oakland International Airport…as the plane makes it’s way from the south so I end up flying over the backyards that house huge blue swimming pools in Palo Alto on up to San Leandro…I start thinking of who I am going to call the moment we set down. Thinking of who I am going to hook up with…so I can tell all about my trip…so we can share a drink or two with some laughs.
Same goes for flying into JFK…viewing the city as it loops around Manhattan, up into Westchester then back again as it makes it’s decent over Rikers Island to hit the tarmac in Queens…
I am anticipating who I will be seeing or who I will be talking to. Wondering what is going on in Harlem that night or …just waiting to take my shower and lay in my own bed as the breeze filters through my window as I watch tv until I fall asleep with no thoughts of picking up my phone.
Trips to California, Florida, Boston, Denver, Puerto Rico and all in between…I was always excited to be back in my town and sleeping in my bed.
But not this trip. I didn’t want to be back here. Would have rather lived out of my suitcase for a month straight then return to my “home”. I felt only a slow seeping, inky and desolate feeling of loss and abandonment, longing and dreading, fear and shame
All this based off some dick. I actually moved here for some dick…that wasn’t mine and was never going to be mine. I masked it as me moving here for my Oldest to go to college. Wanting my plan for his life to be what he should want too. But somewhere in the back of my mind… I think I have been in denial…lying to myself. I fell in love. Deep love and knee deep in some sappy shit. So I moved. Granted, I have always said I might move down to Maryland but…out of nowhere…I was here. I got here and literally…my little bit of sanity was stripped right from under me.
I found out AFTER I moved here that he was married and living at home with 1 wife, 2 kids and 2 dogs. The me that I used to be…before love and whatnot…well that me would have said “fuck you” and kept it moving. But the thing about love…real love…it makes it hard to walk away from a situation that your mind hasn’t fully wrapped its head around and made sense of.
Me? You lied to ME? ME? I am the extra on the side, the jump-off, the side piece…ME?
So pride, love, longing, desperation had me staying in something that was never going to be a blessing. Had me making decisions based off of…bullshit. Had me drowning in self-pity. Had me depressed but not wanting to leave my situation because I needed him to love me the way I loved him and I needed him to want me. I mean, after all, I had endured so much emotionally, and spiritually…I should reap the benefits of him neeeeeeding me the way I felt I needed him. I required that he loose himself in me and by him doing that…I was justified in staying because…you see…he loved me too. Right?
So I moved to this place…endured some criminal shit, paid my dues and tried to stay on the straight and narrow even though…I was consciously staying in this relationship with this married man.
I lowered my standards and my beliefs and set aside what normally would have been deal-breakers… in self-denial at the conscious decision that I was literally breaking up someone’s home by my presence. I tried to justify it by saying the marriage was doomed long before I came into the picture. After all, he was leaving her, moving out...so he said. Tried to jump bad by saying if he didn’t respect the marriage why should I.
And yet…truth reared its head to me in the delirium of my mind and told me…
You have given up many a blessing in the past 2 years to a man that has no respect for you or his wife. You’ve given up on your morals and principles to be in the presence of a man who has nothing to lose. His gain is my demise.
So as I sat on the tarmac, in the lightening storm next to this man…I realized I wasn’t happy to be back home…and I contemplated my life…the here and now of what my life is and was… I realize that I have lost myself and not loved myself and I hurt myself to be in something that could never be a blessing… whether it be material, spiritual or emotional. I have gained nothing since I have moved here. But I have lost more than I can imagine. And because of this experience, I will never be who I was… good, bad or indifferent…I can never be the same.
Everytime I have been away… I have yearned for my bed, in my city. Flying into Oakland International Airport…as the plane makes it’s way from the south so I end up flying over the backyards that house huge blue swimming pools in Palo Alto on up to San Leandro…I start thinking of who I am going to call the moment we set down. Thinking of who I am going to hook up with…so I can tell all about my trip…so we can share a drink or two with some laughs.
Same goes for flying into JFK…viewing the city as it loops around Manhattan, up into Westchester then back again as it makes it’s decent over Rikers Island to hit the tarmac in Queens…
I am anticipating who I will be seeing or who I will be talking to. Wondering what is going on in Harlem that night or …just waiting to take my shower and lay in my own bed as the breeze filters through my window as I watch tv until I fall asleep with no thoughts of picking up my phone.
Trips to California, Florida, Boston, Denver, Puerto Rico and all in between…I was always excited to be back in my town and sleeping in my bed.
But not this trip. I didn’t want to be back here. Would have rather lived out of my suitcase for a month straight then return to my “home”. I felt only a slow seeping, inky and desolate feeling of loss and abandonment, longing and dreading, fear and shame
All this based off some dick. I actually moved here for some dick…that wasn’t mine and was never going to be mine. I masked it as me moving here for my Oldest to go to college. Wanting my plan for his life to be what he should want too. But somewhere in the back of my mind… I think I have been in denial…lying to myself. I fell in love. Deep love and knee deep in some sappy shit. So I moved. Granted, I have always said I might move down to Maryland but…out of nowhere…I was here. I got here and literally…my little bit of sanity was stripped right from under me.
I found out AFTER I moved here that he was married and living at home with 1 wife, 2 kids and 2 dogs. The me that I used to be…before love and whatnot…well that me would have said “fuck you” and kept it moving. But the thing about love…real love…it makes it hard to walk away from a situation that your mind hasn’t fully wrapped its head around and made sense of.
Me? You lied to ME? ME? I am the extra on the side, the jump-off, the side piece…ME?
So pride, love, longing, desperation had me staying in something that was never going to be a blessing. Had me making decisions based off of…bullshit. Had me drowning in self-pity. Had me depressed but not wanting to leave my situation because I needed him to love me the way I loved him and I needed him to want me. I mean, after all, I had endured so much emotionally, and spiritually…I should reap the benefits of him neeeeeeding me the way I felt I needed him. I required that he loose himself in me and by him doing that…I was justified in staying because…you see…he loved me too. Right?
So I moved to this place…endured some criminal shit, paid my dues and tried to stay on the straight and narrow even though…I was consciously staying in this relationship with this married man.
I lowered my standards and my beliefs and set aside what normally would have been deal-breakers… in self-denial at the conscious decision that I was literally breaking up someone’s home by my presence. I tried to justify it by saying the marriage was doomed long before I came into the picture. After all, he was leaving her, moving out...so he said. Tried to jump bad by saying if he didn’t respect the marriage why should I.
And yet…truth reared its head to me in the delirium of my mind and told me…
You have given up many a blessing in the past 2 years to a man that has no respect for you or his wife. You’ve given up on your morals and principles to be in the presence of a man who has nothing to lose. His gain is my demise.
So as I sat on the tarmac, in the lightening storm next to this man…I realized I wasn’t happy to be back home…and I contemplated my life…the here and now of what my life is and was… I realize that I have lost myself and not loved myself and I hurt myself to be in something that could never be a blessing… whether it be material, spiritual or emotional. I have gained nothing since I have moved here. But I have lost more than I can imagine. And because of this experience, I will never be who I was… good, bad or indifferent…I can never be the same.
# posted by Blah Blah Blah : 1:18 AM
