…Always be my person…
I’m trying to grasp water. I dip my hands into its container and hope to capture it in my palm. True to its nature, it flows out of my hands just as fast as I try to grasp it. Why can’t I hold onto it? Why can’t my hands stop leaking? Am I the problem? Is that why this keeps happening to me? Why do they keep betraying my trust and spiting on my vulnerability? Why can’t I keep relationships?
It’s past 08:30 on a Monday morning. I am sitting in a room with my colleagues and in comes one of the facilitators for this session. She graciously takes a seat and there’s a blur between her first words and the last question that she asked us: ‘tell us something that you would like us to know that is not related to medicine.’ I was stunned. I tried to mask my fright with laughter, but my façade could only hide so much. I did not know what to say. I did not know how to say whatever it is that I could not say. Like I said to my person whom I was in deep conflict with, their betrayal had choked my emotions, and unbeknownst to me, it went as far as asphyxiating my words. So, there I was — at a loss for words, and there was nothing awesome about it.
I really do not blame them. There is something overwhelming about acquainting a self-aware individual who is vocal and direct. A person who knows what they want and is not afraid to put the demand on a relationship to attain it. A person who is not ashamed of being vulnerable and weak because they’ve let go of the shame that once stopped them from being vulnerable and weak. A person who is assertive, confident, and sure. Such people can be annoying. They take serious things seriously and light things lightly. They are intentional and are too mature. No one likes that. No one is ready for that. Who wants to relate to such a person? Clearly not my person. Or do they? Was the betrayal not on me and simply the consequence of two different people trying to do life together? Maybe, just maybe, I am overthinking it. However, when you have been the victim of similar companionship infidelities, you recognize the pattern of the red flags. The scarlet has a fiery hue that threatens to burn the eyes that behold it for a second too long.
Complete transparency: I ignored the red flags. True to my nature, I remained hopeful about the companionship. I deluded myself into thinking that we were simply experiencing the lull that any and every camaraderie undergoes as the honeymoon phase tapers. I guess I should have confronted the matter while it was still day. The onus was on me to ask if things were okay between us. I once did, by the way. I demanded the reason for their nonchalance and all I got was some assurance that I knew deep down, was not sincere. Still, I dared to hope. I dared to hope that they will eventually open up and show even a hint of care for this friendship. After all, we promised to fight for each other and for our companionship. I guess, I was the only one in the boxing ring with worn out gloves and bleeding wounds.
I will not bore you with the details of the straw that broke the camel’s back. All I know is, when I think about this, my heart aches. This pain is all too familiar to me. It feels like death. I am grieving. The loss of what I thought was a solid companionship. The demise of my trust. Trust in me. Trust in them. Trust in us. Yet, I still dare hope. I am going to fight for this. I will fight for us. I am not letting go. Not when I know there’s still enough importunity left in me for one more round. I love you and I am unapologetic about it. So, even as this water slips out of my hands, I’ll find a way to contain it. My words will return, and I will sit down, look you in the eye and say ‘I forgive you. I see you. I love you. Till the seven trumpets sound and He comes back again, riding on a cloud to meet us and we go to be with Him. Even then, you’ll still be my person.’
