Tuesday, January 21, 2014

In The Meantime, Part 9: Dreams, Reality, and Micah.



Sleep.

I read somewhere that females sleep often, when they’re heartbroken.

I tried to decipher if I was tired or hurting. The twelve-hour workdays blended with Micah’s absence were too much for me; I needed to retreat to a place where love and reassurance were unnecessary, a place where I made the rules.

Dream.

I woke up with a start. There is a 30 second delusional period, when you wake up. It’s a moment where you’re realizing that the dream that just left you isn’t reality, and you’re either relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t. It was the longest 30 seconds of my life:

1-5: Realize that you’re not in your own bed. Your walls are yellow and these are orange. There is the smell of a perfume that is not yours and there is light snoring next to you.
5-10: Before turning to see who’s asleep next to you, assume that you must’ve dreamt the last 48 hours and you’re still visiting your parents’ home, where your childhood bedroom is the same shade of orange.
10-15: Turn to see your best friend lying next to you. Her alarm clock is five minutes away from prompting the both of you to get to work.
15-20: Know and confirm that the last 48 hours did happen. Grab your cell and read the text messages. Let it sink in.
20-25: You are beautiful. You are beautiful. You are beautiful. Reaffirm this, so that your knees don’t wobble when you rise and your tears don’t remerge from the place you’ve exiled them to.
25-30: Get up. Wrap your blanket, which you brought down with you, around you. Walk upstairs to your apartment.

Cry anyway.

God I miss him.

Bear with me. This is the most vulnerable I have ever been and will ever be, on this blog.

I want to apologize.
I’ve pontificated about love and loss here.
I’ve told you how to feel and how to bear pain.
However, there is nothing logical, scheduled, or regimented about who/how we love.

I broke every rule in the book with Micah. I’d never experienced mad and passionate love. & when confronted by it, for the first time, I could not rationalize it. There was no multiple-choice apparatus, as there usually is, that appeared in front of me. I made all the decisions with my heart and solely my heart.

I’ve spent my years fluctuating in weight.
Meeting men who would fall in love with my soul, but let society’s depiction of beauty define where they’d take that adoration.

& so when someone comes along…
That holds your face on the first day of meeting you and tells you that you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, inside and out, you are engulfed.
When the things that used to come awkwardly to you, fall into place, on your very first outing, you are surprised and excited, all at the same time. 
When you’re holding hands and he whispers to you over and over again about how much he wants to be your world….

You will believe him.

When you’ve known nothing but sorrow in like, lust, and love all of your life, you will fall hard for someone that wears it on his or her sleeve. Micah wore me something serious.




I’d come to DC for a job interview. The hotel they put me up in was beautiful and I yearned to roam the city, but seeing Micah was more important. He text to say he’d be late, because he had an emergency, but he promised to be there.

I worked on showcase prep, saying my pieces out loud until they were memorized, while I ironed my suit piece by piece. I paced the room putting things away neatly, making sure that Micah saw someone who was prepped and ready to take on the most arduous of tasks.

A job interview.
Moving to DC.
Us.

I’d fallen asleep, when I received a text.

Room 453 right?
Yes.
I’m at your door.

The room was dark, except for a small and dim lamp on the desk. He stepped in looking dapper, black slacks and a vest over a white shirt. Every time I saw him he was better looking.

He sat on the bed and we both tucked our emotions away. I sat next to him, far enough so that our energy didn’t become magnetic.

He explained that his emergency was an impromptu interview and I smiled listening to him excitedly go on about his perceptions of the nightlife. Passion was clear in Micah’s eyes. I watched it dance around his light brown centers and pour from his lips. It was the same look he had, when he looked at me.

Suddenly he stopped to look at the suit that hung from the closet door, “I see you’re getting ready for your interview too.”

“Yes sir. I’m nervous.”

“I know you’re going to get it. No question about it.”

“But what if I don’t?”

“I can’t imagine you not winning at anything. You always come out on top. There are no what ifs with you.”

I was sprawled out at the top of the bed and he was sprawled at the bottom. I wore a hoodie and jeans, an outfit I’d chosen to keep things between us platonic. Clearly I’d forgotten my intentions when I leaned over to kiss him.

“Erica…”

He sighed my name into my mouth, as I brought myself closer to him.

“Seriously…we should keep this…”

“Cordial? You came here for us to pretend this room isn’t filled with this incredible attraction?”

He snickered, “I care about you a lot and that’s why this is a bad idea.”

I ignored his words and continued to place kisses all over his face, while he continued to insist that we stop.

Eyelids.
Lips.
Ears.
Nose.
Chin.
Neck.

You know I love…
I just want better for…
You’re better than…
You deserve more…

Micah and I had been confined to 24-hour visits, hotel rooms, and texts/calls filled with a melancholy that could not be cured. I knew that I deserved more. I knew that there was more out there.

But I did not want it.
I wanted Micah.

After the kissing depleted and we could no longer touch tongues, without wanting to take it further we laid back and talked.

All night long.

He went on about how often he’d hoped that he made different decisions. I told him about how angry I was at him for making those decisions, although they’d been before me. It was the first time I’d said it out loud.

“I’ve been waiting for you to be real about that.”
“I’ve been waiting for the bravery to surface.”
“How do you feel now that you’ve said it?”
“Angry.”
“It’s not going to change Erica. Months from now that baby will be here.”
I turned to face him, “I know, but it doesn’t make me love you any less. Even though I pray it will, everyday.”






It’d been three months since we’d had that conversation. When he text me to tell me that he’d been reading the dating series…I almost died.

However, he was flattered:

We’d spoken in spurts since then. There were witty texts and check-ins, during the week. The weekend was filled with phone calls about writing issues I was having and great ideas he’d come up with.

I called Micah the night the incident with Terrance happened. I wanted to tell him everything and hoped his voice would soothe all that was overturned within me.

No answer.

This went on for a few days. Micah finally text me back, but he was distant. I didn’t want to tell him about what happened through a text, but he wouldn’t talk to me.



Hey. I wanted to talk to you.

I’m going through a lot right now. When I’m in the clear I’ll call.

He never did.

After a few weeks, I sent him this email. The email was all over the place, as my feelings were:

Hey, 
There are two moments that brought me here.
The first was a conversation, during celebratory drinks, with the girl I roomed with at Brown. (She was there the day you’d disappeared when the drama w/ the baby began.) I’d just been offered the job in DC. The first thing that came out was: “Erica are you moving here for Micah?”
I was completely annoyed with her and told her that I’d had several offers and this was the most lucrative. She said, “I’m going to let you have two more drinks and then I’m going to ask you again.”
She was right. After a few more drinks it came pouring out. She said she knew it, because I could be anywhere, I wanted with what I did for a living…& choosing DC had to have some motive behind it.
& the second moment…
I’d been trying to talk to you for days. Something incredibly insane happened and I needed you.
I raced through my mind, thinking of the one person who could make me feel better about anything, & it was you. I couldn’t think of anyone’s arms that I wanted to run into, except for yours. I needed you to tell me, in your particular nonchalant and stern way, that I’d be okay. But I couldn’t reach you.
It’s in these moments that I realized how much I let you consume my 2013. & it’s not your fault, it’s the both of ours. You send mixed messages. I accept them.
I hate how much I care about you. I absolutely hate it. I’d blame myself all the time. & then I remembered it was YOU that chased me. It was YOU who’d convinced me that we should take a leap of faith and just do it. & then I jumped….& you didn’t.  
There is nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with letting someone know how much you care about him or her. 
I adore you Micah, from the way you sigh in-between kisses to the way that you can lose yourself in a song. From the way your lips curl up when you’re not impressed, to the way you brag about your accomplishments. I can’t go 48 hours, without you crossing my mind. It’s why I started writing the dating series. It started out as a way to relive the experiences I had with you. However, I realized that the entries might help girls who are stuck in the same predicament.
You might not have always been the best person to folks you’ve known throughout the years, but you have always been sweet to me. You are funny, witty, hardworking, nonjudgmental, musically inclined, and I admire you. You consistently tell me how much you admire me, but I have just as much respect for you. You have had a tough year and you took that in stride. Not a lot of folks can get back up the way you do.
The things above are what happen, when you love someone. I don’t want to be anyone’s brief illumination. I want to be with someone who wants me. Fully. I want to be with someone who’s not afraid to share with me. I want to be with someone who has time for me.
& none of what you were going through would’ve mattered. I would’ve been your shoulder, if you asked. I would’ve held your hand through every dark moment.
 I know I love hard. & I know it’s a lot to deal with, whether you feel worthy of it or not. I’m sorry if I loved you too hard.
Remember when I said that one day this would end horribly?
Remember you held me and told me that I was being ridiculous.
It’s time for ridiculous.
This is ending, horribly. I am heartbroken.
 & I don’t wanna be anymore.
Best,
Riv

I got this 1 hour later…





The reality is…we’re dreaming…until we’re not….


Until next time.













4 comments:

Ms. Vixen said...

That was a tough read. As I was going through all of your experiences ..so many of my own flashed through again.
Thank you for sharing your heart because it's not just therapeutic for you, but for us readers as well.

You've fueled my strength to stick beside one of the hardest decisions that I ever had to make when dealing with someone.

Oh and it goes without saying... your writing is dope :)

Bradford J. Howard said...

DAWG. DAWG. Dude really had to leave you hanging with the "I saw your message and I'll respond to it... when I get a chance" on my birthday, though? This had to be on the eighth?! Not the ninth or the seventh?? lol

By far, in all seriousness, this was worth waiting for. Not only does your writing shine out more brightly than it ever has in the series thus far, but it hit home. I was reminded of a similar letter I once wrote to a young lady I cared about when I couldn't deal anymore. I won't make this about me, but let's just say that this chapter made me reconsider some things about my own personal (dating) life. And it reminded me - and I hope it reminds others - that I shouldn't necessarily be sorry for the romantic choices I may have made.

I can appreciate that you called Micah out for promising consistency, but being anything but. Here's hoping his response makes up for the time he didn't have to deliver it more quickly.

... oh, and I'm never jumping when someone tells me to leap ever again. LOL kidding. Maybe. Great chapter again.

Christina Rodriguez said...

I wish I could be as brave as you are. What I'm going through, I can never be as exact as this. Well it's a little more complicated in terms of how it would effect others. But so much of this, I feel all the time. This dating series is doing so much. Thank you for your vulnerability. It's beautiful even though it hurts.

And a perfect read with all of this snow. Excuse me while I go find a box of tissue lol.

:)

Toi said...

My heart actually aches after reading this. I've been here once and it's unforgettable . I truly hope you get closure and an honest reply from him. Mostly I thank you for sharing your personal life on this blog. What I've always loved about your work is how vivid and honest it is. You don't flourish too much. It's raw and real all the time. Thank you.