When I first meet a guy, I can always determine how long we’ll last and oftentimes even, how we’ll break up. I’ve gotten pretty good at this mostly because I have a type: pretty boys and athletes (that’s a conversation for a different article). I’m not looking for a relationship or marriage so it works for me. Plus, I’ve also accepted that people do come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. But my most recent relationship taught me that:
People are in your life for a season and for a specific reason.
For the past two years, I was seeing a man who lived in TN while I resided in PA. We met on June 27, 2018, and for the first year, it was mostly wonderful. We had met during a work event, and as I walked towards him, I had a feeling of deja vu. He admitted later that he had felt the same. When we spoke, we hit it off immediately and shared our first kiss the next day in a FL airport.
Me: When did you know you loved me? Him: When you laid your head on my chest. I felt something I didn’t want to feel. You had me feeling something I haven’t felt in 24 years in the 24 hours I’ve known you. I felt love.
For the life of me, I didn’t see an end to this new romance so I thought because of that and the spiritual connection we shared, he was my lifetime. But neither one of us was ready; we had issues from our past that still needed healing so we decided to take our time. We spent hours on the phone getting to know each other and discussed our childhoods, failures, successes, and traumas. We actually spent several days sharing our childhood memories one decade at a time. He revealed secrets and fears he’d never told anyone and I respected that. Most women know how difficult it is to get men to open up; but for some reason, he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me.
He visited me regularly but it took months for us to have sex. When we finally did, it was magic and our spiritual connection intensified. Literally. During that moment, we both felt as if we were no longer in a bedroom lying on a bed. Everything went black. He saw purple. We both saw ourselves as bright white lights floating in the purple blackness. Scared and confused, we immediately stopped and decided to hold off having sex for a while.
I always fell into love. I never had love fall on me. —Him
We were moonstruck. Everything thing we did became a special, memorable moment for us. When Aretha Franklin passed away, I was spending the weekend with him in TN and we had her music playing as we got dressed to go out. On Facebook, I posted how I felt about her song, You Make Me Feel Like (A Natural Woman), never letting on that this had actually transpired between us. Think what you want but what we had was love, or as the Japanese call it, koi no yokan, the sudden knowledge upon meeting someone that the two of you are destined to fall in love.
Despite how promising our love seemed, how well we seemed to fit, things took a turn for the worse during the last half of our relationship. Looking back, it was also the time when my son returned home to live with me. The house I had was spacious but in the North, you only get one bathroom. I had already grown tired of the PA winters and now that I was forced to share a bathroom with a teenage boy, I was at the point of losing it.
Throughout the relationship, we had been dealing with traumas and betrayals from past relationships but for the last year of our time together—we endured it from each other. I was just as much of a culprit as he and what we did and said to each other during those months ripped a hole in our connection. But we kept trying to stay connected. We’d fight and not talk for a couple of months then rekindle our friendship, our love. But it was never the same and I was growing weary of the merry-go-round.
The head can let go much quicker than the heart. —Him
Since 1992, when I heard the song Tennessee by Arrested Development, I knew I was going to live there. It made no sense because I’d never even visited and didn’t think I had any family. But I recently learned the lineage on my mother’s side can be traced back to the Nashville, TN area. The universe had been guiding me there. It was the reason why we met.
During these past two years, he had sold me on the idea of relocating. Between it leveraging no income tax and offering the Tennessee Promise, a program where, regardless of family income, the first two years of college tuition are free, moving was a no-brainer. And being quarantined in the house with a teen boy and one bathroom motivated me to move sooner rather than later.
Deep down, I didn’t want to admit that I now understood the reason why God brought us together. And that our season was over. —Me
I drove the 12 hours to relocate and during that time, I knew I was moving for the right reasons—not one of those reasons was for him. For months, I’d been feeling drained. He had started to pick fights and lie and I’d start thinking, “I could do so much better”. Not that he was unattractive. But his toxicity was making him ugly from the inside out. He wasn’t the same man I met two years ago. He was verbally abusive, manipulative, and mean for no reason at all. I was tired of trying to help him feel better and process his feelings at the expense of mine. I’d started to realize that we would never get back what we once had. But I was still too scared to say the words.
The last time I saw him, he was sprawled across my bed doing what he had become accustomed to doing—lying. I’d had enough. He bated me into another fight that made absolutely no sense and had no possibility of resolution. So I asked him to leave.
When I told him to leave, I threw his keys and got up to escort him out. He grabbed me by my arms and for a quick second, I thought if he could be verbally abusive could he also…hit me? I’d been in similar situations before and reacted instinctively. I wrestled free and punched him in the chest. My initial suspicion that this could escalate were wrong. He walked out without saying a word. I immediately felt horrible for punching him, but he was just as wrong for putting his hands on me. He knew my past. Plus, I wasn’t hostile at all; I was silent and standing calmly while he got himself together. To this day, not once has he even tried to apologize or explain. In his mind, he was the victim, unable to acknowledge any wrongdoing on his part. That, too had made these last two years exhausting.
I will never touch you again. —Him
I can admit now that, for some time, I had no longer felt the same way about him, about us. We’d done too much to each other and I was done with the victim playing, emotional abuse, and manipulation. I guess, because of our connection, he had felt as much and called me on it days before our fight happened. But I refused to give him the truth. I kept trying, placating, waiting to see if we could get it back. I wish I had told him how I truly felt and let go then because now we’re not even friends.
Despite how our relationship ended, I will always cherish our time together. He was my twin flame, sent here to challenge me and change my life completely. My viewpoint of the world and where I fit in it has changed for the better because of him. And I’ll always love him for that.
I don’t recall how we ended up talking, but he had texted me an apology the very next day. By then, I had blocked him and wrote all of this. He has apologized in person and admitted where he went wrong. I apologized too.
He’s not the verbal/emotional abuser as described above. But he is a self-admitted jerk. He said he’s working on doing better and I’m working on doing the same. And we’re both working on rebuilding our friendship.
He also read this blog.
It was beautiful. —Him