Black Girl In The City.

Catch 22.
November 27, 2008, 8:44 am
Filed under: The Fact of the Matter... | Tags: , ,


Alicia Ayala

Conversations with my past.

“I want to believe things are different but I just don’t know.”

Was he talking about his baggage or mine? Ok so, both of us got in the way of each other after an unforseen circumstance that tore the relationship to pieces. And now that I think back on it, as much as we’d both been through over the years, being forced to endure the irony that life shoves in your face at just the right time can jack everything up…with some people it’s just not that simple.

My response to his statement felt more like a plea for my defense, trying my best to explain where I was, where I’d been and where I feel I’m going. A little awkward but of all people I could trust with the truth, it would be him.

“You gotta realize that I’m not the same girl you met when at seventeen, I’m not the chick that hurt you ‘back’ when I was in my 20’s…who’ll I’ll be 10 years from now? No clue but I just know I’ll be better. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Uh huh,” he said. It wasn’t like one of those ‘yea yea yea’ Uh huh’s, it was more like an ‘I’m pondering what you just said’ kinda Uh huh. The one’s where a breathy silence falls shortly thereafter.

“So why do you still eat alone?”

I didn’t know if I was speaking to a brick wall, deaf ears or a stunned freak but he really didn’t have much to say besides the question at the end. What was it his business anyway? With the exception of detailing the baby mama ex-wife drama, he didn’t say much more in the relationship I remembered either. I empathized with his frustrations in trying to do the right thing and it never being good enough. A single father of one and then two others children he fought tooth and nail to see, I could understand the strain. All in all he’s a good person and one of those that do take care of responsibility no matter what. But I think he let the drama poison him and then us.

But he’s the one that’s been around the longest. The one I feel most comfortable with, the one I can tell anything and not feel afraid or ashamed. The one that I know beyond the shadow of a doubt would take care of me even on his deathbed. He was the one that put a temporary hold on our Saturday play date to have two new tires put on the front of my car because they needed to be replaced. Not because he was cakin’ or trying to get something from me, but because he actually gave a shyt about my well being without asking anything in return. That for me is rare.

So we’ve been having a lot of these talks lately. Like, what if we tried to make it work, and what if we took it one day at a time. What if we approached each other fresh and worked hard to let go of the past. The what if’s sound good and comfortable, but the fact that we’d have to find a very large home for five kids and an SUV kinda scares me just a little. I like my city life and would be satisfied with a roomy townhome over a house in the hills. And who’s to say the lingering drama wouldn’t trickle into the household? What if, what if, what if. What if I really did pass on my Cali dreams for the sake of having stability and family? What if like everything else this is a catch 22 and what if he’s old news for a reason?

Think I’ll continue to eat alone (for now).
-black girl.