I’ve been tryin’ to get down to the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it’s about forgiveness
Even if, even if you don’t love me anymore
– Don Henley
If you’ve been missing me, it’s because instead of being here, I’ve been here. I’m trying to broaden my writing endeavors, and in the coming months, I hope to have some juicy tidbits over at Naked Admonition. It’s a partner blog with A.C.T. of Blaxplanation, to ultimately serve as a communication bridge between men and women.
Let’s talk a bit about letting go. That is some of the hardest shit to do in the world. I recently came to the realization that, though I’m pretty good at keeping my life going in the midst of adversity, loss or heartbreak, actually letting go is not my strong point. I can cry about things that happened years ago for no other reason than the fact that I’m having a bad day.
Recently, on one of those bad days, I began thinking of a person in my past that hurt me, somewhat out of the blue. This hurt has never quite fit in the scar category, because a scar is a badge representing your ability to heal. I was fully prepared, at the outset of this post, to detail why I was so hurt by him and so destroyed by him, and there was a barrage of “how could/dare hes.” Yeah. No. Because it is SO water under the bridge and irrelevant.
The tricky thing is that I love him still. Not in the “in love” way. I can get past hurt feelings; a broken heart is a horse of another color. But that being said, logically, I should hate him, and that’s something that just isn’t in me to do. And so I have accepted the fact that I will always love him. I will always want the best for him. I have also accepted that if I want to have any progress in my emotional life, I have to let those emotions be. I’ll send nothing but positive vibes his way, but the past is just that. I owe myself that much.
As the great negro poet Shawn Carter says, “I wish for you a hundred years of success, but it’s my time.”