I'm well known to be a lover. I love hard, I love fast, and I love long. I think that my ability and willingness to love as much as I do is a part of what makes me great. I've loved and known some incredible people in my day and I relish our bonds, as the many people I've come across hold special places in my heart. The loss of my cousin Tracey when I was 17 left the impression on me of how important it is to tell people that they're loved while they're here.
Even after a blowup, I'll admit to typically being willing to go above and beyond to keep things kosher. I don't like hostility or awkwardness from my squad. I'm a lover first and that's the position I'd prefer to play.
Fred, my flame, my friend, my lover, my companion. He up and disappeared on me several months ago. He visited in the winter, but then he just disappeared. Poof. Nothing. No phone call, no text message, no Facebook inbox, nothing, he just stopped coming around. At first I was worried. Was he in a hospital? Jail? Was he hurt, did he lose his phone? Where was he? I needed answers. It wasn't like him to just up and leave, especially after all we'd been through together. I reached out to a mutual friend, who it turned out had been in touch with Fred the whole time. Wow. Like that, huh?
Don't get me wrong, I understand that sometimes people need to cleanse and be alone. Sometimes you need reflection and to think out your worries. But I didn't deserve at the very least a heads up? I remember while with my ex, he and I discussed marriage. I'd shared with Fred my plans and Fred asked if he'd get an invite. I told him that based on our history, having him at the wedding wasn't a good idea. His response was "after everything we've been through?" That response was what rang out in my mind as he left. "After everything we've been through?"
Fred and I shared so many times together. I recall one particular night where we'd met up, while I still lived with my son's father. Despite living with my ex, Fred certainly possessed a piece of my soul. That particular night, we went to Fellini's Pizza on Ponce de Leon Avenue. And for some particular night, that night was more special than most. We sat there, staring into each other's eyes. He confessed some of his insecurities, which I'd never known he'd had. We stayed there for about 3 hours, talking. I remember how much I wanted to stay there in that moment forever with him, while a small part of me feared someone that knew my ex walking in and catching me, since the pizza spot was only a few miles from home. I came home at 4 a.m. and my ex asked where I was. I quickly lied that I'd had pizza with friends. When he pointed out that it was 2 hours after the pizza place closed, I told him that we sat afterward talking. Which was technically true...
After that, my last physical encounter with Fred was when we got a hotel room together. That night was magical. I actually still have the key card from the hotel still in my wallet, 4 years later.
Fred came to see me in February. When I took him back to the bus stop, I cried my eyes out. We'd spent the last 3 days together, but I was again letting go of one of the great loves of my life. The other being my ex, David. He thought I was being nuts (guilty) but he knew what he meant to me, because I'd always shown it. And two weeks after he went back to L.A., he disappeared.
It was a process to let him go. I cried. I questioned. I theorized. What went wrong? What did I do? How could I fix it if he didn't tell me what the problem was? My mind constantly wandered back to Fellini's. That night and how we stared in each other's eyes and talked about the future. *POOF* Gone.
Today, while sitting next to my best friend, I got a call from a strange number. I assumed it to be a bill collector or stupid telemarketer. I heard a voice "Malika?" "Yeah? Who is this?" "Its Fred." What? How? Huh? A flood of emotions ran through me. All I managed to say was "I didn't expect to hear from you." He said, "I know you didn't." "Where were you?" I wish I could have managed some kind of emotion, but truth be told, I was shocked. The mutual friend that Fred and I share tried to update me on his dealings recently and I told my friend point blank that I had to kill Fred off in my mind. Although I unfriended him on Facebook, I did still occasionally check his page. But still, I didn't want or need updates. I needed him to cease so I could feel better about moving on without him.
Coincidentally, I'd tried to call him a few times last week, but his phone was off. So I guess he'd been thinking of me as I'd been thinking of him. While he was here, he accidentally left a pair of socks behind. I meant to send them to him and he sent me his address to do so (before he ghosted me). I wanted badly to throw his socks away, but I couldn't. I guess although I'd killed him off in my head, a small part of me cared too much to throw them away. He told me that he'd never forgotten about me and that he prayed for me all through his absence. He said that he didn't intend for his absence to be so long and that truthfully there was some guilt for being gone for so long. We spoke and caught up for about 20 minutes. Throughout the whole conversation, I didn't have much emotion. I didn't know how to feel.
A few minutes after we'd gotten off the phone, I started to sort through my emotions. I realized that the reason I was so dry while on the phone with him was because I really did kill him off. All of the warm, fuzzy emotions I'd tied to our time together I'd had to work hard to erase. And I did. So when he appeared out of no where, the woman who loved him wasn't home.
Today, a particularly rainy day, I had to make a run to the store, and only in my car, as the rain pelted, did I allow myself to unleash the tears I'd been holding onto. I'm not sure what will happen. I'm not even sure if I'm glad he's back. Not that I want him gone again. Not that I want him to leave again either. So I'm torn. I guess as always, I'll let time sort this out.
