That's What Friends Are For (man, I hate that song)

When you have a friend as long as I've had a friend, you know one another's idiosyncrasies.  You know when the person is happy, when they are sad, and when they are pissed beyond all belief. Well, it saddens me to see my best friend frustrated.  And as I ponder her situation, I cannot help but notice my own.

Understand that I still believe in fairy tales. I still believe that there is the perfect person for me out there. I still want to see other people's marriages and relationships be fruitful. It gives me hope. It lets me know the world is not as cruel as it can be.

When I look at my past, and all of the scattered the rubble of relationships past, I often wonder why I am not able to find the perfect person for me just yet. The person that will share my bed every night and snuggle.  The person who will make coffee in the morning and rile me out of bed.

But then I look at others and have always taken comfort knowing that they found their person. So surely mine just must be wandering about looking for me. That sounds really good, but clearly the muthafucka is lost and has no sense of direction.  Nor does he have GPS on his phone.  In this day and age, who doesn't have GPS on their phone?  I digress...

I've dated a guy for little over a year and in that year, there has been lots of fun, lots of bullshit, and lots of memories made.  Problem is, I wonder if he is the one.  You know that mythical one that I'm supposed to ride off into the sunset with who understands me better than the rest of the world.  I'm not so sure, but day to day, I make the best of it.

After consulting with my very own relationship guru, also known as my cousin, I lamented that this had just been a tremendous waste of time.  She corrected me and noted that I had fun and so there was no waste there.  I tell myself that she's right even if I am not so convinced myself.  A girl's got to believe in something, right?

Looking back on Love (with respect to Lenny Kravitz)

"Looking back on love through a broken, old TV..."

I am beginning to wonder if I have ever really known love as an adult.  I can see my relationships clearly now that they have expired and I am beginning to wonder if I've ever been in love for the right reason and at the same time as I was loved by someone else.  When I think of my most recent relationship -- which has been dead for almost two years -- I clearly see someone going above and beyond to make sure that my every need was met.  If I cleared my throat there was water.  If I rubbed my neck, firm hands would massage my shoulders easing away tension.  And sex? Oh please! It was of Olympian portions.  But did I love him, too?  Did he love me fully the way I needed to be loved? The way I needed my daughter to be loved?  I'm not so sure and that's why he is in the rear view.

"Looking back on love though the faces have all changed..."

My daughter sprang forth from the love I had for her father when he was a seventh grader and i was a  sixth grader.  We had been kids playing basketball in alleyways and walking the city carefree and young.  That later blossomed into a high school romance that would withstand absences caused by his stints in juvenile detention centers.  I didn't see him change because to me, we were still those same kids talking shit and hitting layups in the alley.  Problem was, he was a grown man and there were no traces of the small-statured boy I once loved.  He was a monster, yet I was fiercely in love with the ghost of his twelve-year-old self.  He was an abuser, liar, and cheater, but I didn't see him.  What I saw was the same little boy who wrote me a stack of letters so high that I had to ribbon them together to make certain that none were lost.  That boy was dead.    So what's a girl to do?

"I should be running / like a baby I still crawl..."

So here I am years later and what have I learned?  I don't really have a ravenous dating life as some would assume and you can catch me at home watching Matlock wearing my sexy, satin bonnet.  I would like to date, but I am not so certain that the man I need really exists.  It's almost like I've seen glimpses of what I like and need in the last one.  But, alas, even he was broken.  Content with using me once I offered my kindness.  So now, I am suspicious. Like the Vietnam veteran's child I am, I lay in wait for the first sign of suspect behavior with my twig helmet on ready to make a full- blown army crawl the hell out....

and knowing is half the battle...

It all seemed so simple. Boy meets girl. Girl thinks boy is hot. Boy thinks girl is hot. All is well for our hero. Or is it? This situation wasn't quite so simple. We are adults and with that adult status come the complexities of life.

We met at our children's school. We would see each other there and I tried to turn off any attraction to him that I felt. But then I laid that BS down and we began meeting for coffee and movies and dinners and jazz. The rest is history.

Somewhere in the back of my mind though I worried (and sometimes still do) that once the folks at the school pick up on the relationship, all hell will break loose. Why? I am not sure considering that I am a parent. I am not a pillar of the establishment or anything. LOL Anyhow, I wonder what will happen and time and time again, he has said that he doesn't care what they think and that it will be just a day in the life once things are settled. *Tuck this statement away for future reference. It will become an integral part of this story...

So fast forward to New Year's Eve. He planned a night full of board games, movies, and fun for us and our three beautiful daughters. There was pizza, music, sparkling blueberry lemonade and us. What more could a girl ask? So the ball dropped and everyone ran around hugging and then it was movie time. Around 3 a.m., it was bedtime for the little ones and I must admit he and I had the same picture in our heads as to how that part would go.

The girls would be exhausted. Put on their PJs and crawl into bed and fall asleep. His teen daughter would keep watching her movie and laughing. We would continue playing Monopoly sprawled out on his living room floor while talking trash to one another. Seamless plan, right? The execution of that plan was something altogether different.

The girls got into bed and I read them a story. My daughter had already begun asking if I was going to stay the night and I had tried -- unskillfully, I must admit -- to deflect the question. Too late though because it hung in the air.

As he and I took a moment to regroup from our restless, five-year-olds. We sat on the couch and had the talk. He said that things had taken a turn and he worried about how this would be broadcast at the school by our children because of my daughter's concerns. He then went on to state that he didn't want to have to explain himself or our relationship to his ex-wife or anyone at the school right now.

Could I be hearing this correctly? I thought to myself. I felt like a little kid. I wanted to take my ball and go home. This could not possibly be the man that said that I would have to face the very real possibility of his ex-wife running into us somewhere and that I should not worry about what other parents may say. I was furious and saddened. I cannot lie.

My daughter wanted to stay so I tucked her into his oldest daughter's bed as my little one looks up to her and wanted to sleep there. By candlelight, I kissed my sleeping daughter's head and tried to fight back the tears surfacing in my eyes. When I came out, he said that since it was late, he would sleep around the corner at his father's. But for me, the damage was done. I was out.

I had checked out mentally when he let himself say what he had and I could not allow myself to stay. He hugged me and I felt void. I still had those same tears threatening to make an appearance, but I felt too hollow to allow them to fall. He asked me to stay. I told him I could not and he walked me to my car. I drove home and called when I settled in. I let him know exactly how I felt when he said what he had and the conversation was punctuated by my sobs. He was quiet and apologetic. I told him that now I knew that somewhere in his mind, those thoughts still had a place and how that made me feel.

Later that morning, I came back to get my daughter and we did not reference the conversation. He made breakfast for all of us. We talked and laughed. Kissed and smiled. Even napped while the girls ran amuck. So now I know what I am up against and he knows that I know...