Confesh-sesh #10: Sticks and stones may break your bones but love will always hurt you
They say when you feel love it comes from your heart. Love and hearts are synonymous. This couldn’t be more incorrect. Your heart has nothing to do with love. It’s 4 chambers that pumps blood throughout your body. It brings used, yucky, deoxygenated blood back, pumps it to your lungs to get hopped up on that oxygen like a drug addict and then shits it back out through your body. Where the fuck does love come into that? It’s the most practical organ ever.
If we wanna talk ‘love’ and emotions, that’s a function of the brain. A tiny, little, insignificant almond shaped piece of gray matter called the amygdala. That’s quite possibly the only thing I remember from neuroscience. I guess ‘I love you with all of my brain’ doesn’t have quite the ring as ‘heart’ does.
When they say stop thinking with your ‘heart’ and start using your head, they’re so wrong. You’re actually using your head and your heart is just pumping blood, lub dub, lub dub, nothing to do with any of the shit decisions you make. Poor heart, taking the blame for the shitty amygdala.
* * * *
Falling ‘in love’ is never something that happens consciously. For those people looking for it, and yearning for it, it never happens but for those of us who were just fine without it, it knocks us the fuck down. Like really? I didn’t want this! Give it to Becky with the good hair who’s #LookingForLove #PrinceCharming #basic. Leave the rest of us alone!
The universe and its shit again…
* * * *
Why is ‘love’ the only emotion we can’t control? We can’t control turning it on and we sure as hell can’t control turning it off. Why can’t we just love Mr Right, the one who does everything for us, treats us like a Queen, is perfect on paper and everything you’ve ever dreamt of? Why is it that we fall head over heels for the Prince of darkness, the bad boy, who’s everything the logical part of your brain (not the dumbass amygdala) tells us to stay away from?
I can choose to be happy, I can choose to be sad. I know when each emotion is appropriate and in which situation. Love? Not so much.
* * * *
The deeper Mr A and I fell for each other, the more I realized that all that glitters isn’t gold. Cliché AF. The more and more I got sucked into his vortex, the more I knew to myself that this was the path of my ultimate destruction. It didn’t stop me, if anything, I let myself free fall right into it.
* * * *
Mr A’s and my birthday were 4 days apart. It was going to be the first year we celebrated our birthdays together. He was turning 27 and I was about to be 22. Of course, in true Mr A and me fashion, we started things off the week before our birthdays. We were still staying in the city that he worked in, and lemme just tell you, that place is boring AF. It was basically the countryside. You know what that meant? OLD MAN BARS! My fave! No lime beats a ‘hawk and spit’ bar lime.
We decided to go bar hopping, kicking it off with 2 puncheon shots with a Sorrel shandy as chaser in the apartment. ‘Woots! Lewwe do this.’ We started at one end and then ended up God knows where. I had no fucking clue where we were. I just knew drink, drink, hop. Our night ended at a resort in that area, really pretty for where it is. We walked to the pool and sat down.
It was a gorgeous night, the lights from the pool illuminated his face. I could sense that something was wrong. He took my hand and proceeded to tell me how gorgeous the place was, and started making plans for our next trip there. There was a different tone in his voice while he spoke. I attributed it to the alcohol and thought nothing of it. I tried to be present in the moment.
* * * *
Back at the apartment Mr A’s behavior suddenly changed. He started being extremely cold and walked outside in a huff. Obviously, like the idiot I was, I chased behind him.
“Are you ok? What’s wrong?”
“Leave me alone, Nerala.”
I was utterly confused. “What did I do? Talk to me.” I reached out to hug him because of the distress on his face. He pushed me away.
“I mean it, leave me alone. I will only destroy you. I don’t deserve you.”
I could feel my face immediately get hot and ‘skin up’. I don’t know if it was the alcohol in me but I felt anger pulse through me. I became vehement. “What the fuck shit are you talking about? We just had a good evening. What is this about? I am here for you, tell me what’s wrong. Open up to me because I’m not leaving so you can push me away all you want but I’m staying right here!”
He looked at me half shocked, half tears in his eyes. I immediately ran to him when I saw this. I softened, “Talk to me.”
This was the first time I’d seen this side of him. He was vulnerable. This strong, tough guy that so far had been my strength, now had his own moment of weakness. The tears flowed down his face as he told me all of the reasons he hated his birthday and the fucked up memories he had associated with it. My ‘heart’ shattered into a thousand pieces.
I held him. I moved us to the couch and he rested his head on me while I wiped his tears. In that moment, all I could think about was holding him. Keeping him safe in my arms. I wanted to do everything in my power to fix him, to fix his hurt. We sat in silence, him trying to muffle his sobs and me trying to give him every reassurance possible. I felt everything he felt. My eyes were welled with tears. It was so weird, I had never actually felt someone else’s emotions before. And as time went by, I realized it became unspoken. I felt everything he felt without him having to say a word.
It was in that moment I vowed that my little broken Mr A would never have to feel that hurt again. I was going to help him through this, I was going to do everything in my power to turn that negative experience into a positive one.
* * * *
His birthday was fast approaching. I planned a surprise party for him, scrambling to find his friend’s numbers, and to make sure everything was perfect for him. Plot twist, he had to work for his birthday.
Shit, Kay, I’d just move the party here.
I eventually convinced his friends to make that drive to this city behind God’s back. I baked his favorite cake that he has to have every year and since he couldn’t be home to have his mom’s. I was impressed with myself. It was the first time I’d ever baked an ‘orange cake’, wtf is that anyway?!
He was really appreciative when all of his friends showed up and for the entire surprise. And like the disgusting pair we were, when it was time to stick the cake, he lifted me up and danced while I held the cake. It was really challenging for me not to drop the cake, but we survived. I remember this boy was squatting and shaking, and doing the most, all the while I was trying to balance this cake AND myself. I was shook. I remember the song too, ‘We nuh leaving until the rum done, ah feeling ah feeling.’ Yeah, feeling that this cake was about to fall.
* * * *
The day of his birthday happened to be this religious holiday, Karwa Chauth or something, I don’t know, my sister told me about it. I just thought what are the odds, that this falls on your birthday?! It’s where the wife has to fast for the husband’s longevity and success and that shit. SO guess who thought that was a good idea.
I fasted the entire day of his birthday, no food, no drinks. He was supposed to feed me my first mouthful and sip in the evening. Now is a good time to mention, I don’t even fast for myself. WTF WAS HAPPENING TO ME?! Did I just fast an entire day for this bish? You bet I did.
Yep, he actually obliged and entertained my shit and fed me my first mouthful and sip of water for the day.
* * * *
He had another lime at his house that night, all of his friends and family were there and I had become well integrated with them. Of course, with my OCD self, I was stationed at the sink all night washing wares because I HATE to see wares in a sink(10 points to you mom). My night went shot, shot, wash, hug Mr A, socialize, pick up cups, wash, wash, wash. I was just so determined to make that night perfect for him.
* * * *
As the night drew on, everyone decided that it was time to hit a club. We freshened up and we were out.
At the club, we were doing shots and having a good time until a guy walked up to me and said, “Girl, what are you doing with this guy? You’re way out of his league. You can do better gurrrlll.” My mouth dropped open. I looked at Mr A, he was pissed. I rolled my eyes and kissed Mr A, then gave the bitchiest smile I could pull off to the guy.
* * * *
He was the Clyde to my Bonnie, and I was about to stand up by him no matter what. But that didn’t mean that he was willing to do the same for me and he definitely didn’t.