Friday, September 23, 2011
Wake Up Call (Message for a Special You)
Lately, more times than not, I’ve been out of sorts.
At odds with myself, everything around me.
Words that one day seem appropriate no longer fit. Times when I thought I made progress, only to discover I’m ten steps further than I was the day before.
I know, at times, you don’t recognize me. Where is the person I once saw? Where is the joy, the exuberance?
I don’t want to do a lengthy monologue; I just want you to know the person is still there; the light was not a lie. However, circumstances, situations happened that sapped it away little by little. I’m not saying its’ right but that events caused these things to occur.
I don’t want you to think it was all you; it was never you. I never wanted it to seem as if it were you. It is only that now I have to think of how things impact a unit; it is no longer just me.
I know in your mind, two sharing the load makes it easier. For me, I’m too caught up in feeling responsible, so although it may seem like I’m blaming you, it’s not you; it’s my issue.
I remember how things were. True, the job wasn’t ideal; the means were. Things were doable. Then everything came crashing down…a part of me crashed down also. Slowly starting to reemerge, but I haven’t gotten far enough to where I still don’t feel impacted. The uncertainty, the instability…still a plague; it’s hard to shed the panic where you are an individual used to the routine of stability and being able to see a little bit into the future.
I never regretted you. Only the circumstances. Relationships are hard enough for people with steady income. There are questions, even if they aren’t asked. What rules does one go by?
I was raised where the gentleman treats. There was never talk of “taking turns treating” or “dutch.” Not saying there’s anything wrong with it. Just that I always saw Grandpa spending the money on the major stuff; Grandma never had to shell out anything. I was told a decent man wouldn’t let a woman even touch her pocketbook during a date, with the exception of leaving the tip for a meal.
I learned I had to communicate this to whoever I was involved with. It wasn’t an automatic given. There are different backgrounds, different styles. Then you have to figure out the why to go along with the style. Cause honestly, some guys don’t want to shell out money because they are cheap. Or because they think the woman’s a gold digger; he doesn’t want to shell out until she proves she is not after his money.
Dating, at times, can be a very expensive practice. You have to pay almost $20 to go to the movies; you haven’t even gotten snacks yet. Or if you want to go to a fancy spot to eat (and for rich palates can easily add up to $100 or more for two). Concert tickets; the club. You have to have a budget just for dating—this doesn’t even count hotel costs, budgeting for contraceptives in the event you get lucky.
This whole relationship business isn’t really for the broke. But it’s a testament to creativity. You have to take simple things and make them dates. That’s one of the things I’ve always known but now having to constantly put into practice.
But not everyone is into creative; if so that’s fine; it doesn’t make one a bad person.
So I cherish the little stuff. Even if I have the twenty and you have the ten, you won’t let me spend the ten on a date, ever. I do cherish that about you. I want you to know that I do.
Lately, I’ve gotten so caught up in things happening around me that I have to stop and be thankful for the little things.
Just because one gets good treatment doesn’t mean one takes it for granted.
Sure, I’ve been through a lot of ugly situations, so I’ve seen more disrespect than respect. So, when I first got it, I was reluctant to grab it. I was like, “What the heck is this?”
Then, once I started grabbing it more often, I’m like, “Hey I like this. I think I want this type of treatment and consideration all the time.”
So then I started sticking my chest out a bit with all of this reverence.
But I have to recognize when I’m starting to take it for granted. Because the person doesn’t have to go the extra mile; the person is going the extra mile to make me happy. And the moment you start treating the extra mile as if it’s nothing, sooner or later, the extra mile won’t get extended.
Like my grandma always told me, “Don’t start something you can’t keep up. And if someone is keeping up something good, don’t forget to thank them and be grateful.”
So I’m putting this out here as my own wakeup call. I have to be the bigger person when I mess up. I have to acknowledge when my uncertainty, insecurity, and issues start to taint a dynamic. To make things about you when they have nothing to do with you.
(putting on my big girl Hanes; can’t seem to find the Victoria’s Secret)
I don’t want to call it an apology. I’ve already vocalized it but I never get as clear as when I write it down; the root of the matter can get jumbled in agitation and sorrow. It’s not that the vocalized version wasn’t sincere, just not as crystal.
I’m still trying to find my way back. It’s not easy. Ideally, I would like you to be patient, to weather the storm because it is temporary.
But the realist in me has learned to anticipate a walkout via past experiences. I have anticipated not to even be told or if I am told, not given the true reasoning.
I do not doubt your staying power, only quoting what I’ve been through.
And so it is.