Beautiful Little Fool
“So how’s your relationship?”
Another day, another vital daily phone conversation with my mother. I know she’s asking because she cares about my genuine well-being, but I can’t help but adetect a slight hint of sarcasm in her tone. Or maybe I’m just being melodramatic as usual….This marks the 3rd time I have been in love….I’m sure there were other intimate moments of romance, but there are only three REAL times that I consider it to be actual love. The first was a high school boyfriend that lasted all of 5 months (that pathetically took me 2 years to get over), then there was the engagement at 19 after freshman year in college, and then there’s now….the relationship that my mother is currently inquiring about.
This is my first time living with a man and I am WILD about him, but let me tell it I am always wild about the person I am in love with. I feel like the girl who cried love. -Falling for someone, finding beauty in their struggles and falling head over heels, devoting my whole being to the significant other. And the two times I’ve claimed eternal love, the bliss was cut short, which brings me to the present day in which I am scared to tell my mother that I’m in love. That I can literally sit a room with this guy all day and be completely intrigued. Or that he supports me in a way that I thought didn’t exist anymore. I wish could I tell her about the long, romantic ramblings about our dreams and fears, but I can’t. My pride cannot bear to be giddy about another guy and then he turns out to not be a soulmate. Every time I introduce someone to my family, get them well acquainted only to have the relationship fail, it cuts me on the inside. The dread of love lost stabs at my pride and supposed wit once again.
Unfortunately in my pompous head I’m not supposed to be the girl who “dates”, who’s always with someone like her solitude is living hell and she can’t bear the thought of being alone with herself. I was supposed to be like my grandma, my mother, my sister: find my soulmate young and seal the lifelong deal….When I was engaged I thought “Finally I was on the right track, I’ll turn out just like Grandma, Mommy, and Camille.” But I fumbled and ran at the first sign of trouble, too immature to even fathom dealing with hardship while in love. Not that it was all just me, but to have it not work out left me feeling like one hell of an idiot. A year after that I get, what I see now, a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend (although that guy could’ve made a great friend) and I dipped out that sham as soon as I could.
Fast forward three months later and meet the man of now. After dealing with disrespect and humiliation for the simplest of reasons with guys I was just “hanging out with” I got beyond tired and beyond sick of defending my worth as woman. I thought all men knew a woman’s worth, still baffled now that you have to explain it to dumb asses out here who literally don’t know. With maturity I came to learn only real men know a woman’s worth and sometimes real men come in totally different packages that you never expected to be blessed with. And BAM! Here comes a real man. I was doing what I’m always doing when I fall in love, minding my own damn business, and in walks this amazing guy. I’d met him months prior through a friend but he didn’t seem to take much interest in me and I didn’t care enough to press the issue, but here we were months later, really getting to know each other and I feel like I found a missing piece. Even now I’m terrified to type the words in fear of jinxing the whole thing. I finally have someone who seems to need me and he’s not ashamed to say so and every move he makes with me proves just that. The littlest things that I was raised to do for aman are now being sung by his praises and the admiration is being reinforced through his actions. I want to tell my mom I can get work done around this man, that he’s so great and has accomplished so much that there’s no way I could be satisfied without some type of accomplishment somewhere in my own life. I want to tell my mother that my interaction with this man mirrors that of her and my father.
A part of me feels so odd keeping such a big emotional feeling from my mother but the relationship is still new. I could see myself marrying this guy but what’s the point in telling her? She doesn’t know him the way I do and I’ve cried love before so what makes her believe me this time? I’m terrified because I want to be in love and I want to have so much faith in it that mother just follows my lead (which she always does because as mad as I drive her she loves me more than my rebellion). But I think I’ll wait, I’ll gush all the details when a ring is on my finger and I’m taking her to lunch to meet my wedding planner. It eats at me daily: the fear of love and the pain of being too scared to indulge in it with my mother but dearly missing her company, but I am 22 years-old and this is the best I’ve come up with.