Here is a “SHE” Confession that I came across and wanted to share with you all. In this confession, I’m sure that there are some readers that might be able to identify with this piece at some point or another. You may be experiencing these very same situations in your current relationship or lack of thereof. This “SHE” writer, is a talented and expressive writer, who has the ability to really take you where she's coming from. She does this through a series of pieces called the “Confessions of an Insomniac“that she often shares with her Facebook friends. I love her heartfelt; let’s keep it real, style of writing. “SHE” was kind enough to allow me to spot light the full confession here. Proceed below for the“Rambling in the name of “Companionship Confession, Episode 74”:
Confessions of an Insomniac: Episode 74
by Ms. Nakki on Sunday, August 28, 2011 at 10:16 pm
It’s not a secret, at least to me, that I've been discontent with this long-distance thing. I've had a bad history with long distance relationships…apparently. Third time a charm? Ahhhh….NO.
Although my rational mind says that what happens is supposed to happen, my heart aches and right now, I’m in need of companionship. Not the kind that my Sorors, home girls, and home boys provide. Not the kind that I can get simply by making a phone call, either…
There’s nothing wrong with wanting the companionship of someone that moves the mind, heart, and body. That is what I want…and I can’t have it with 700 miles in between. Holding hands every 6 months does NOT a relationship make!
I ask myself over and over again if THIS is what I get for the decisions that I've made in life. I go through the what ifs and the shoulda, coulda, woulda scenarios more than I care to count. I've been patient. I've mastered the art of dating myself…I've gotten myself so many gifts, I dare someone else to get me something that I don’t already have. I sing to myself, I take myself out to dinner, I hold my own damned hands when it’s cold. I open the door for myself; I call myself beautiful and toss back my head so that the sun can give me a kiss good morning. All day, every day.
I’m not desperate because I've made what I want and feel that I need public. I’m not afraid to say that I want or need a man. That doesn't mean that I’m standing around the corner waiting for some aloof guy to come, so that I could jump on him. I’m not going out in the streets looking like I belong in a circus (or in a stage play for the ones that are disillusioned about how their make-up looks), or like I should be in some type of erotic showcase. It’s not me…AND, I’d never want a man to accuse me of tricking him because he woke up next to me and my wig was on the lamp shade. No offense to my wig-wearing friends…but I’m just me, no frills. Plain Jane.
I don’t even want to hear about my “No Frilliness” being the PROBLEM… I know a lot of married women who are no-frills. They didn't need embellishment for someone to profess his love in such a way that he wanted her as his life’s partner. So, make up, high heels, and more revealing clothing is not a necessity to be a “fish that’s not tossed back”. Steve Harvey said that…the analogy is so fitting. Dating is a fishing excursion…are you the keeper or are you the one that gets tossed back into the water? He doesn't discuss the ones that were kept and were poisoned or decaying inside – are those the divorcees or the exes? I digress.
He told me that he’s noticed that I've been pulling away from him. Conversations are not as “easy”, I’m not as talkative or funny, I don’t sound as if I’m glad to hear from him anymore. Lord knows that I can’t keep my feelings bottled up and YES, things have changed. I got that although THIS is something he never expected – falling in love; he doesn't know how to integrate it into his current structure of life. No more taking in the evenings unless he’s running an errand – he doesn't want his daughter to hear him on the phone – she’ll automatically know that he’s talking to a woman. (I can't rationalize that yet...she's 16, not 6!) When he runs those errands and is out and about alone, he sees it as a chance to catch up, albeit briefly. He forgets that there’s someone on the phone that expects and wants his undivided attention: “Can I get a spinach wrap with extra cheese?!” Ok…now what were you saying? “How much?!” Sorry, hold on, ok. I’m back… KETCHUP Ma’aM, please!” OK, ok… “Let me call you back, my parents (my brother, my daughter) are calling”.
by Ms. Nakki on Sunday, August 28, 2011 at 10:16 pm
It’s not a secret, at least to me, that I've been discontent with this long-distance thing. I've had a bad history with long distance relationships…apparently. Third time a charm? Ahhhh….NO.
Although my rational mind says that what happens is supposed to happen, my heart aches and right now, I’m in need of companionship. Not the kind that my Sorors, home girls, and home boys provide. Not the kind that I can get simply by making a phone call, either…
There’s nothing wrong with wanting the companionship of someone that moves the mind, heart, and body. That is what I want…and I can’t have it with 700 miles in between. Holding hands every 6 months does NOT a relationship make!
I ask myself over and over again if THIS is what I get for the decisions that I've made in life. I go through the what ifs and the shoulda, coulda, woulda scenarios more than I care to count. I've been patient. I've mastered the art of dating myself…I've gotten myself so many gifts, I dare someone else to get me something that I don’t already have. I sing to myself, I take myself out to dinner, I hold my own damned hands when it’s cold. I open the door for myself; I call myself beautiful and toss back my head so that the sun can give me a kiss good morning. All day, every day.
I’m not desperate because I've made what I want and feel that I need public. I’m not afraid to say that I want or need a man. That doesn't mean that I’m standing around the corner waiting for some aloof guy to come, so that I could jump on him. I’m not going out in the streets looking like I belong in a circus (or in a stage play for the ones that are disillusioned about how their make-up looks), or like I should be in some type of erotic showcase. It’s not me…AND, I’d never want a man to accuse me of tricking him because he woke up next to me and my wig was on the lamp shade. No offense to my wig-wearing friends…but I’m just me, no frills. Plain Jane.
I don’t even want to hear about my “No Frilliness” being the PROBLEM… I know a lot of married women who are no-frills. They didn't need embellishment for someone to profess his love in such a way that he wanted her as his life’s partner. So, make up, high heels, and more revealing clothing is not a necessity to be a “fish that’s not tossed back”. Steve Harvey said that…the analogy is so fitting. Dating is a fishing excursion…are you the keeper or are you the one that gets tossed back into the water? He doesn't discuss the ones that were kept and were poisoned or decaying inside – are those the divorcees or the exes? I digress.
He told me that he’s noticed that I've been pulling away from him. Conversations are not as “easy”, I’m not as talkative or funny, I don’t sound as if I’m glad to hear from him anymore. Lord knows that I can’t keep my feelings bottled up and YES, things have changed. I got that although THIS is something he never expected – falling in love; he doesn't know how to integrate it into his current structure of life. No more taking in the evenings unless he’s running an errand – he doesn't want his daughter to hear him on the phone – she’ll automatically know that he’s talking to a woman. (I can't rationalize that yet...she's 16, not 6!) When he runs those errands and is out and about alone, he sees it as a chance to catch up, albeit briefly. He forgets that there’s someone on the phone that expects and wants his undivided attention: “Can I get a spinach wrap with extra cheese?!” Ok…now what were you saying? “How much?!” Sorry, hold on, ok. I’m back… KETCHUP Ma’aM, please!” OK, ok… “Let me call you back, my parents (my brother, my daughter) are calling”.
And because of these competing priorities, somehow text messaging has become an acceptable manner for conversation. No Thanks…don’t want to kill myself (or anyone else) because I’m trying to converse with you via text message. YES, this meeting is terribly boring, but must I blow my cover by texting entire conversations?! I have arthritis and sometimes my fingers hurt.
I never wanted him to make a choice…I wanted him to learn how to reconcile all of these components of his life: daughter, parents, brother, me. Reconcilable. The thing is…that I can’t do the reconciling… I told him that he doesn't have to choose…EITHER/OR doesn't exist in this situation. There was always the understanding that we're both "package deals". The choice is whether or not he wants to reconcile me with his family. There are not 2 families and I don’t have to be a secret. Perhaps I'm asking for too much and my expectations are misplaced...grasping for straws here.
So, I’m simply “chillin”. Coolin out. Whatever is whatever. When he’s figured out how to reconcile all that is going on in his life, I may be available. Yes, I love him and I love me. If he cannot give me what I’ve articulated to be my basic need…then why am I still pretending that it will change? I am pretending when we talk about the future… I’m pretending like it’s something that I can see on the horizon…I can – that little sailboat that doesn't have wind to push it home. While I chill, my options remain open.
Ramblings in the name of “companionship”…
I never wanted him to make a choice…I wanted him to learn how to reconcile all of these components of his life: daughter, parents, brother, me. Reconcilable. The thing is…that I can’t do the reconciling… I told him that he doesn't have to choose…EITHER/OR doesn't exist in this situation. There was always the understanding that we're both "package deals". The choice is whether or not he wants to reconcile me with his family. There are not 2 families and I don’t have to be a secret. Perhaps I'm asking for too much and my expectations are misplaced...grasping for straws here.
So, I’m simply “chillin”. Coolin out. Whatever is whatever. When he’s figured out how to reconcile all that is going on in his life, I may be available. Yes, I love him and I love me. If he cannot give me what I’ve articulated to be my basic need…then why am I still pretending that it will change? I am pretending when we talk about the future… I’m pretending like it’s something that I can see on the horizon…I can – that little sailboat that doesn't have wind to push it home. While I chill, my options remain open.
Ramblings in the name of “companionship”…
