June 2, 2023

This is probably the last entry I am going to write about YMK for awhile.

It’s also a very hard entry to write, because as usual, my emotions are diaphanous and so many miles removed from my normal way of feeling about things, it’s hard to put them into words.

We just got off the phone.

In fact, we’ve been talking a couple times a week since I’ve been up here, but then, I’ve reported that before and it shouldn’t be a surprise to those of you who have been reading.

For the last several weeks, things have been… a little weird. We had this fucked up conversation via MSN, that actually pointed out to me, just how far away he is right now, and not just in terms of physicality either.

I’d call, he’d be distracted. Then last week, I called when I was sick.

“Hi,” I croaked.

“Hey baby,” he said, “Can I call you back, because I really in the middle of something right now.”

“What?” I asked completely confused. “You can call me back?”

“Wait, who is this?”


“Oh, hi baby!”

“Who the FUCK are you calling baby?!” I said, a trifle annoyed.

“well at first it sounded like you, then it didn’t sound like you.”

Well that was a lie.

On Monday, when I got back from London, I called him again.


“Hi baby, I tried to call you before, but your phone was doing something weird.”

“You tried to call me?” I asked.

“Who is this?”

“That’s the second time you’ve done that to me, and you need to tell me what’s going on right now.”

I had to pull it out with forceps and pliers.

He’s started to see his ex again.

It doesn’t surprise me, because I knew he wasn’t over her completely, and we had talked about all of that before I left Trinidad.

During those several weeks, when he was being weird, I knew something was up. You can’t ignore your belly when it starts to tell you something is up. I also had all of these dreams about him, dreams that were telling me he was evading me and our situation, or at least talking about it. There were dreams telling me things weren’t all I thought they were as well. Dreams telling me there was more to me and him than just a passing thing.

On Monday, we didn’t finish talking about it–me and him and where we stand. He told me he’d talk to me over the weekend, and we’d really talk it out. I couldn’t wait until the weekend, I needed to know what the fuck was up.

So tonight–well it’s afternoon, late evening there–we did just that.

It’s not over between us; but I’ve told him I’m not calling him for a while. I told him I need to take a break from the heightened state I’ve been in with regards to me and him.

We talked about the situation between him and his ex. He told me, he’s still going to come up to England, but that he needs to settle in his mind one way or another if there’s a future between the two of them.

I told him I didn’t want to be something he’s holding on to, just in case his thing with her didn’t work out.

I also said, I had to accept that I wasn’t as important to him as she was.

“You’re talking shit, that’s bullshit,” was his response.

I also told him, what bothered me wasn’t that they were seeing each other again. What bothered me was that he lied about it. It bothered me, because we had made a pact about that, and that I didn’t want him to steal away my power to handle my shit, by lying to me about things that were happening to him, with him, around him that could effect me and him.

We talked, and talked. Openly and honestly for the first time since I left Trinidad… or at the very least, when he and his ex started talking again.

For me, I want to tell you I feel betrayed, and that this wasn’t a part of the deal. However, both of us walked into this with our eyes wide open. He told me where he stood, and I told him where I stood. It wasn’t like we didn’t talk out all eventualities, all possibilities. We did. We talked it all out ad nauseum.

I have feelings, certainly, but I’m not angry. I’m not emotional. I haven’t cried any tears over any of this. I don’t know if that means my feelings for him were superficial, or if it means I’ve finally reached a level of maturity that allows me to completely divorce myself from the outcome.

I didn’t scream, I didn’t yell… not with him on the phone, and certainly not alone when no one else is watching. I have feelings, strong feelings, but none of them are of loss or dejection, of failure or rejection. He hasn’t rejected me, he’s actually trying to hold on to me.

He was upset when I told him I wouldn’t be calling him for awhile.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it hurts me too much, and I can’t flipping afford it. I’ve been putting out all my good stuff. You’ve been getting the best of me in a way no one else has before, and I need to see some of that come back before I go spending myself out.”

I went on to tell him, that in every relationship I have had, I’m usually the one that does the leaving. I’m always the one that kicks guys to the curb because they annoy me, or because the relationship has gone as far as it can go, or because they just aren’t what I am looking for, or in more than one instance, I left the country. You think that leaving the country thing was just once? Try four times.

I told him, with me, men promise, promise, promise, but they can never really deliver, because I’m the kind of woman that demands men raise their game. The game they play with other women can never work with me, because I am always reaching, stretching up to the higher levels of myself, and most men, like most people are quite happy in their comfort zones. For me, a comfort zone is like the kiss of death.

It’s not just men, it’s with my family and friends as well. If I see you copping out, selling yourself short or not trying or fighting for yourself, I will push, encourage, cajole or outright fight you to get you to see why that inner reaching for your best self, is the only solution to the troubles in your life.

Most people can’t handle that. Many of the men who come to me, can’t, and I told him it wouldn’t surprise me if he couldn’t do it. I told him I recognise he’s a procrastinator.

“That’s how I deal with everything,” he replied.

“Well you need to grow up,” I said gently. “You can’t go through life like that. I recognise you’re a lazy person when it comes to dealing with your mental, emotional and spiritual well being, but you can’t go through life that way. That shit hardens and crusts on to you, if you don’t work to keep yourself clear from that kind of shitty buildup.”

He was silent.

When he did talk, it was to tell me he was going to try, and his ex wasn’t the reason he’s staying in Trinidad; that she wasn’t holding him there. He said he was still coming to England, he just has priorities he had to take care of first.

I told him I could understand that, but that I didn’t want to lose everything that had passed between us, that honey sweetness, that good humour, that connection.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said.

But what about his ex/current girlfriend?

I told him whether he realises it or not, there was a connection between us, and that I felt him strongly in more ways than one.

“I know,” he said softly.

I told him again I wasn’t going to call him for awhile.

He said he’d call me.

I told him I had to go.

He told me he’d call me again.

I said, “I gone,” and hung up.

So there you are folks. We’re not over, just in a rubber band phase it seems. I don’t know if the rubber band is going to snap and break, I don’t know if it will snap back into shape, but right now it’s stretching further apart.

I can’t write about him anymore, don’t want to talk to him for awhile. Now is the point I think when we really are going to find out how we feel about each other, and if it’s strong enough to really make sacrifices for.

I knew coming to England was going to force me to put him into perspective, but here it is, here I am, and I think the only kind of perspective I can gain at this point is in a vacum.

I still miss him terribly, miss so much about him, almost everything. Yet, I am not even hoping for some secret desire in my heart, I’m just praying for things to go the way they need to.

Like I have always said in terms of our relationship, whatever happens will happen. Whatever happens next, will happen no matter what either of us say or do to counter, avoid, encourage or force.

There was a reason why I was holding back, why I have been holding back all these months.

I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it here and now: I have been grateful for the time we’ve spent together, and open to whatever happens next.

I guess the fact that it’s not over and done between us is a good sign, but you know pragmatism can be a bitch.


dayo's mama, writer, web developer, orisha devotee, omo yemoja, dos aguas, apple addict, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, blog pig, trini-bajan, book slut, second life entrepreneur, combermerian, baby mama, second life, music, music, music!

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dayo's mama, writer, web developer, orisha devotee, omo yemoja, dos aguas, apple addict, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, blog pig, trini-bajan, book slut, second life entrepreneur, combermerian, baby mama, second life, music, music, music!


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