Waiting to Exhale
Is it love? Maybe vindication?
It seems like aeons ago. The day I first met you. I was twenty-three. You were twenty-four. Both of us young, starry eyed and raring to go. It was a beautiful, warm but pretty normal day. No stars, no rainbows and a pot of gold at the end, just a standard meeting between two kindred souls. I saw you, for some reason I knew. Without a sliver of a doubt. I was right. It didn’t take long before we somehow found our way to each other.
What can I say? It was sweet, perhaps too sweet? For the first time, I had someone who could look at me and I felt like all the flaws I existed with until then didn’t matter. You took me seriously. You accepted every word out of my mouth and you held it to be the truth. My truth. You saw me. You became the bridge between the weird outsider I was to the shinier, more acceptable version I’d only imagined in my wildest dreams. How could I know it wouldn’t last? That trouble would soon follow. How could you know? But it did. Right on time like the first showers of rain in spring.
Only, we were still googly eyed. We brushed all aside and thought we’d conquered. That we were above it all. It’s true, I guess. The young go on as if everything is a given when it’s far from it. Despite the challenges, the unending back and forths, I did fall pregnant. It was the most fascinating and at the same time, one of my most painful experiences. We overcame and we thought we’d moved forward. Again. We moved in together. Struggles became standard yet there was also love. Perhaps, a little avoidance too? Actually, a lot. Burying our heads in the sand. Ignoring the big, blatant elephant in the room. Letting bygones be bygones apparently. You know, when I’m fighting hard to figure this whole thing out, I’m tempted to think this is exactly when we stopped growing. At least separately. Together too? Who knows?
A few years passed, we got married. Finally. I’d wanted it. I’d longed for it. When it came though, it felt heavy. Forced somehow. It was too late. The damage was already done. There was a honeymoon but never a honeymoon period. We started walking on eggshells. Plodding along with our eyes half-closed while our hearts held on to a dream once seen. Perhaps this is the time I should speak more for myself than you. By the time we decided to make it official, I had lost confidence in our union. I didn’t see how it would succeed yet I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t let go. This is not to say I stopped trying. Or that I lost my love. Because it was the one thing that kept me grounded. Despite the odds.
I think at first it was me. Then little signs, some missed, started showing themselves. You lost confidence too. It finally came to a head during the pandemic. You left me feeling betrayed, raw and unworthy. I accept that I made you feel the same way too. Numerous times. Let’s be clear. This is not to assign blame or weigh one hurt against the other. It is not to point out the narcissist or the villain in our picture. This is simply to say, from that moment, till to this one, I wait. For something; a word of acknowledgement. An apology. Some form of understanding. Accepting part of the blame. SOMETHING!!! And without it, this, it seems I can’t take the next breath. The next step. I am waiting. Infinitely. I can’t exhale.
