I USED TO LOVE HER

 

                                               

"Freeing yourself was one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another."

-Toni Morrison

My heart once told me that "my skeletons in my closet hold the map to my freedom. They have the power to release me. All I have to do is open the door."  As I type the words that you are now reading, I am slowly turning the knob to take you on a journey. A journey of how my love for women started. A journey from a past battle that still haunts me to this day.  A journey that I kiss every night while pushing it away. Let me stop stalling and just get to it!

A long time ago...

I think I was maybe 10 or 11 years old. I witnessed a man, who was and still is special to me, hit the woman whom he loved multiple times. This man and I had a very special bond. We were bonded by blood, but when I saw the tears in her eyes falling to meet the blood falling from her lips...

the blood that existed between him and I was nowhere to be found. I ran to her, wiped her face, and held her like I needed to take her pain and claim it as my own. She called the police and I saw "my blood" get handcuffed and placed in the backseat of the car. We stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever. In his eyes, I saw remorse. In my eyes, he saw her. I stood there in silence as he was taken away. I went back inside to check on her and made a promise to myself to always protect women at all cost, no matter how big or small the sacrifice. I honored this promise very well.  That happened a long time ago, but I still live up to that promise to this day. In fact, I wanted to protect women so much, I ended up falling in love with one. A special one. I saw myself in her eyes, her touch, her kiss...

She fed me with love. When others were feeding me with crumbs, she gave me a full meal. But...

she broke my heart and I have been starving ever since. She introduced me to intimacy. The dictionary describes intimacy as: "a sense of closeness and deep connection between individuals."

You want to know my definition? Well, according to me: "Intimacy is more than sex. It is a spiritual connection that combines love with power. Sacredness with security. Us with God. Intimacy gathers up all of our broken pieces to reshape us, to heal us. Intimacy is freedom."

I feel every tingle of each word. As I take a deep breath in, I am trying to relax the urge for this feeling. It is hard because this woman was freedom to me. I am living in a space where freedom does not live. It moved away a long time ago. It doesn't matter how hard I beg it to return back to me. It keeps walking away as if it doesn't know me. Like I am a stranger. It doesn't long for me anymore. I hope it returns because I am struggling to breathe without it. 

Once upon a time, there was an "us". We protected "us".  We loved "us". We saved "us". Now, there is no "us". It's only me trying to gather up all of my pieces in order to set myself free. As I am gathering these pieces, I am noticing something. These pieces form a silhouette of someone else and I need her more. "Her" is the woman I dream about. I feel her like the gentle breeze that's singing outside of my window. I imagine her as a perfectly imperfect work of art. She is made up of many broken parts. She is me. The heartbreak I felt when the only woman I loved left me made me realize something.

When I was fighting for my relationship with the woman I loved, I was fighting for the love I had for myself. I gave her all of me, but didn't have anything left over to give to myself. I gave her my heart, I gave myself as a sacrifice. I not only sacrificed myself for her, but for all the other women I tried to protect. Being with her taught me a lot about myself.  She taught me that love has the power to create a safe space to exist. 

She was my safe space once. Now, I was able to create my own space without her. In a way, I am glad she doesn't exist in my space anymore because I am not confident in my strength to walk away. She has the power to blow my world up into tiny pieces. So maybe I should consider it a blessing to be rejected by her presence. Maybe. My love I had for her ignited my mission to always defend black womanhood. Society wakes up every morning and chooses violence. They continue to dish out painful slaps across our face and lie to each other about how much we enjoy it. No one stands up for us. No one protects us. No one loves us. But I do! I stand up for us. I will try my hardest to protect us. I know how it feels to be loved by a woman and because of her I am able to give my love for her a new name...a new direction. A new "us" . This new us is Black women as a whole.

So...

I used to love her. But the problem is...

I still do.

Before I end this, I want to share a poem I wrote about her in hopes that it creates a new path for my journey. A journey of letting go. It goes like this:

God...

You told me to never go back to what was lost

because a hard head makes a soft behind

for the one who is trying to find

the scent of her one more time.

Time...

is what she stole from me to take me as her own

To own me for one night that turned into one more

moment of my love being held in secrecy.

So do you see why I keep going back?

To take back that feeling that lies between sacred and sin

that exist between my thighs creating highs of untouchable smoke rising like this incense near my bed.

A bed that smiles while remembering her sweet touch.

Whoa, wait God

Hold on now

I know that was a little too much

But you saw what she did to me.

You saw how naked we were to your eyes that roam inside spaces that climax in secret.

My secret

Our secret we tried so hard to pretend didn't exist.

So could you give her a message for me?

I promise it will be brief.

Okay, so here it goes:

They say that time heals all wounds

But you know what I say?

Time ignites the intention of rage to grab my heart 

back from its break

To erase its fate from your erased memories of me

Causing you to see that the color of my pain is me

trying to break free from your tight spaces that leave traces of your fingerprints in the sand 

on the moon that God said I could have with you.

He said I could have you for just one moment

But my heart needed a lifetime

So we seduced time to make it last forever.

Please forgive me for making your love eternal

when it was only meant to be a whisper,

reminding me of what true love feels like.

So I'm coming to take back what's mine

because God told me I could

have what was made just for me...

My spirit that is trapped within

your sacred sin.

Amen.

Now, it's your turn God.

-Written by me

Until next time, remember this: Sometimes you will lose people because you chose to love yourself more. This is a blessing. Why? Because it creates a space for true love to take its rightful place. Thanks for taking this journey with me.

I love you,

Lyric (Court)