I'm a complicated human much like most of you. The thing about it is, people usually don't like complication. Fortunately, I take my time with complicated things. It's in almost everything that I do. I like small things with steps. I cook a lot, I bake, I crochet, I listen to records on an actual record player, I wash dishes by hand, I write everything down and do drafts to make sure that they are just right. Maybe it's because I was born in magical 1978 and shit wasn't easy. Back then, there was pretty much no other option but to get'er done the hard way. Which wasn't hard back then. There was plenty of time and you took the time to learn them until it was your craft.
My parents were married, my dad never stayed, so my mom made him leave. I ACHED. Mostly because I learned at a young age that I wasn't good enough and we weren't good as a collective...an attractive family of five, for him to (as my mom would say) "Straighten up and fly right". I knew. The feelings and emotions, they grew up with me. I was overly familiar with them. However, the hope...Oh Hope, she's a magical unicorn that I dreamed up and clung to. Like My Little Pony, she was beautiful with cotton candy colored hair that you could brush all day with the perfect brush. Only, Hope was a real horse that I would eventually ride off on in a grand way with a smile, glitter and a wave. In actuality, there was no Hope - or maybe she just never showed up for me. I'm not too sad about it. It's life. The idea of her still resides in my head and in my heart though. She's my happy place when my stomach is uneasy with anxiety from the world.
My biggest hope was for my dad. I wished so many things for him, for me. I would dwell in it selfishly. Not as a "WE need you", but as an "I need you". He rarely came. I know. I waited. Time goes slowly for the ones that are waiting. That's just the way it is. When he did come around, he smelled great...like dad. He had the best things for himself; a new car (always), the best clothes (always), a huge nicely furnished brightly lit apartment in the sky and a young carefree girlfriend (always). I would wrap my body and feelings around him when he came. Think all the limbs at once. I imagined that we all did. Tory, Alex Jr. and I. He was so much bigger than us. Larger than life to me - the best. Even at doing nothing. His smile kept my mom's heart in a frenzy of heartache (different from mine) that no one else could cure. I know that now that I have my own. I call it when Love & Hate Reside. It's amazing what we inherit. My dad was cool. Heineken and reggae cool. Steak and potatoes for dinner cool. Dance around to living room and wake up late, do no chores cool. Say what you like, be free with me cool. My mom was the opposite. A killer of fun. Someone has to be the Sheriff and she was.
We didn't see him often. We just thought about him a lot and he was fun when he came around and it made it seem like he was a fixture. But he wasn't. The older I got the more evident it became, it was always that way. It made me admire my mom more. You need backbone to deal with that type of shit. It takes guts to willingly be the bad guy for the sake of your children. I know about it now and I only have one child, yet the shit is as huge as a mountain. Sometimes you are used to the smell and sometimes it stifles you nearly to death. On top of that, my mom excelled at life as a whole - she aimed to be the best in spite of the madness.
As for my dad, I see him more now and I still long for him. Even when he's right before my eyes and I'm in his embrace. It's not enough. It's never enough. I still don't see him too often and other people (outside of his biological children), including Sir are more shiny and new to him. I'm not to upset about it. It's just my life.
I was searching without knowing that I was actually doing so. I was looking for it everywhere and had no clue. LOVE was all around me, I could feel it and couldn't touch it. I yearned for it. Dry cried for it to show up and carry me away like Hope. I summoned it though people that I cared about like my cousins or my school friends, especially from my siblings. I drained them. Alas, I could never get it from the ones that I like to refer to as The Necessities. Mainly my mom and dad. Also, the kind of things that I associated with love didn't always match - and love became jaded. It made me love and hate them all at the same time. The things that they'd do, lie, abuse me, choose others over me. Just hurt me. It took a long time (many years before I came to the realization that these people were just other humans who went through problems like myself and was moving through life the way they knew how. Whatever that means.
Anyways, all the loves in this long-short, narrow-wide life kinda failed. They fell into the gaping hole that's next to my heart. Real love just keeps eluding my grasp somehow. You know what else I realized? I pick the ones who choose me and I latch on and love them fast not giving them a chance to show me that they love me while I'm busy showing them how much I love them. It's a recipe for disaster really.
What's the solution Jas? Well, I'm still figuring it out my friends. I have the hefty job of teaching my son how to love as well. Here's what I know for sure (sorry Aunty O)...I know that I'm constantly giving God gratitude so He can constantly keep my eyes open for how I can better love myself. I'm also always busy showing my son that I love him and how to love himself and others around him. Spread it and it will always come right back. There's no limit to it. I shower my funny and excitement for life on the people that allow me to be around them daily, monthly, yearly and now there's you :). I try to remain the decent balance of being open and cautious. Sometimes that's in reverse. When all else fails I stop completely for a while then I proceed with caution. Most of all, I hold on to my magical unicorn, Hope while craftily and complicatedly waiting for love.
L O V E J A S