Healing & Dealing: The Credits

First of all, if you’ve made it this far with me in this series, Thank you!  Heartbreak isn’t easy. Especially when it comes at no request. However, I’ve dealt with it.  It didn’t kill me. I made it through. I decided to be transparent about what I was going through as a means of self-care and self therapy to help me get over.  I’ve learned a lot about myself that I didn’t know in these last few weeks, and I’m overjoyed because had it not been for this, I wouldn’t have known. I’m honestly just a girl, that fell in love, but it was with the wrong person.  Will I be better? Absolutely! Can you get over it, too? Hells yea! How do you start? At the beginning, I guess.

 

Throughout my ordeal, I had good and bad days.  But, as the song goes, “when I look back over my life, and I think things over, all of my good days outweigh my bad days, and I won’t complain.”  And I didn’t. I let what was, be. Whether it was cry, laugh, lay down, journal, or pray. I can’t lie, at the beginning, I didn’t think I was going to get through it. Man, was I wrong! I won’t take all the credit and say I did it all by myself. I had a tight circle that gave their support.

This is my thanks to those individuals.    

thank you GIF

Dear Right Hand,

My dearest Febreze Sister. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiissssssss!  The advice you gave was always on time, even when I didn’t want to hear it.  You, my friend, are part of the Godly counsel that I surround myself with. I can’t thank you enough for our ‘ribs and ice cream’ pow wows.  You encouraged me where I needed it most, and that was through my healing process. I remember you telling me, besides the fact that I’ll live to fight another day (insert eye roll), that I needed to recognize my emotions, sit in it, and not rush it.  I never asked you to confirm, but I do believe you prayed for me. I’m forever indebted to you for the times you’ve talked me off the ledge, heard me cry, and coached me through it. And between me and you, I’m glad you gave me a ride that day. LMAO! My favorite part was when you said, “You’ve helped me, so now I’m going to help you.”  I never even asked you for help, and you were willing to go the miles with me.

 
Dear Hazel,

⅓ of The Ladies.  I’ll say, I honestly don’t know if it was just the way I told my story or the fact that I was telling it between tears, but you cried with me.  That in itself was a selfless act. I can’t express my thanks or the gratitude I have for you. You were the first live person I was vulnerable with about all that happened, and you didn’t judge me.  You didn’t look at me sideways for it. You listened. Actively. You gave sound advice when it was needed. For that, you’re a rockstar! The hardest part was allowing myself to remain vulnerable and sit back while you volunteered your personal time to help me.  Everything from the text messages asking how my day was or saying you’d hoped I was having a good day, offering to fix me that bomb plate of a hamburger and a hotdog, I owe you for that. Thanks, Dah-ling!

 
Dear Jennifer,

Or at least that’s what they call you, LOL!  GIRL!….How can I start? What can I say? The one day where I felt defeated, and was out for the count, you tucked me in on the couch.  Air-tight, might I add and offered to do whatever I needed. You’re a true gem! You listened, with no intents to judge, but only to hear me get it out.  Your patience, your wit, and your words of encouragement do not go unnoticed. You took time to help me when I needed it most, and you were gentle with your approach.  I often wonder why our paths crossed, and I believe one thing I’ am to learn from you is gentleness. At times, when I feel things are rough around the edges, you slide through and ease things up.  And even as I write this, I could go for one of your famous salads. I commend you for helping me cope. Thanks, Dewdrop!

And lastly ……       

Dear Sir,

I’ve had millions and millions of words to say, and twice as many opportunities to tell you.  However, when those chances were presented, I froze. Now, I can say it all without freezing. So, let’s start at the beginning.

These past 4 years were great.  Although, it wasn’t the most healthiest.  The on again, off again has taught and shown me a lot.  We truly had a fairy tale beginning. Granted we were friends before it all, but I never expected it to get this far. I can’t pinpoint exactly where it all went toxic.   I have taken responsibility in the part I played. You see, I knew it was getting toxic but I allowed the invisible hope to overpower my common sense. That invisible hope was what I held on to each and every time we had the “What are we?” conversation.  In my mind, I’d totally convinced myself that we were having that conversation at the wrong time. I’d think, one day we’ll have this conversation again and it will be at the right time, and the outcome would be different. It’d be the outcome I’d been waiting on.  I knew it wasn’t going to get better, but was afraid to say something because I knew that’d mean things were over. Truth be told, we’ve matured in these last 4 years. In a sense, we’d grown together. I grew to care for you, and was afraid to even say out loud the real feelings I was having for you.  It took me a year to even say it to myself. But, when I finally worked up the nerve, I felt so freeing. I got cold feet all over again when I made the decision to tell you to your face and I wrestled with it for an entire month. Once I got it in my head that we were whole adults and I was entitled to an answer as to why you’re in my life and what do you continue to do with me while you’re in it, I felt more brave.  

So the time came, and we again found ourselves at the same crossroad.  “What are we?” 20 minutes. That’s the amount of time I watched you watch me break down in tears while I spoke on how I felt after you’d stated we’d only end up resenting each other if we took things to the level of a relationship.  You didn’t utter a word. I didn’t think you were even paying me any attention, until I saw you remove your glasses and begin to wipe your eyes. Every word that came out of my mouth was the truth, and when I told you “I love you,” I meant it.  But, you see, Sir, I meant it more when I told you I couldn’t give you a platonic friendship, if you didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship. I was in love with the man I’d saw you grow to be in the last 4 years, yet at the same time I was falling more in love with myself.  I’d spoken to God plenty of nights about you. And He assured me, that no matter the outcome, He’d still be there. In the end, I’d made the big girl decision to leave all of this if it wasn’t what I wanted. And that was just what I did! So, thank you! You showed me I can love, you showed me I can be comfortable.  You showed me chivalry. You were a shoulder, ear, friend, confidant, lover, and homie. And not all in that order. In so many ways, you showed me NOT to settle.  This time, I believe I made a damn good decision.  As I told you that day, I can’t miss out on the man who is meant for me because I’m afraid to let you go.  Bottom line, you didn’t want what I want. Why keep you here? Nah, Sir, you can exit.  I don’t hold my head down about any of this, because I know I gave all I had.  I had no doubts when you told me back, you love me.  I knew it.  But we were on two separate pages.  Somewhere within the broken strings of my heart, I found the strength to pray for you.  For a little while, I didn’t even want you to feel hurt.  Maybe part of me still doesn’t.  I know I’ve given up my hurt.  I’ve also given you my forgiveness.    

Peace and Blessings to you, Sir. I’m appreciative of the ride, but this is my stop.

 

*cues Mary J. Blige’s Be Happy*

 

Love,

LaQuita.

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