February The 14th.

 

I did one of these I hate valentine’s day posts last year around this time so, I’m here thinking ‘maybe I should make this into a series’ kind of like in Nigerian movies where a random male voice keeps screaming ‘watch out for part two’ at you. This might be yet another one of my ‘love sucks’ kind of posts because of the feeling I have in my gut.

Lately I’ve been mistreated, misplaced and misunderstood. Pushed to my elastic limit and beyond. I have been 50shades of miserable and felt everything but the dignity that I am entitled to as a human being. The eyes behind these words have familiarized themselves with the once foreign and salty substance that flows freely through them. The fingers behind this keyboard, raised up to God for vengeance and the heart… The heart that once beat in a rhythm soothing to the soul, one so calm yet, bringing forth happiness and a sense of self peace. The heart now beats in tune with its anger and fear as well as its elongated period of rejection. 

So, why have I told you my story which isn’t cool enough to put children to bed? I’m not entirely sure to be honest. All I know is that my mishaps have changed me in a way that I cannot fully comprehend. I’m now looking at the title of this post wondering why I’ve gone so off point. Anyway, I’ve come to realize that after every terrible situation, there’s always some sort of wonderful epiphany. I haven’t quite found mine yet but, I’ve been thinking lately and writing…thinking while writing. 

I have been thinking about my life past, present and future. The people in it, their mission in my life, my own mission in my life. Whether or not I’m holding on to something I really shouldn’t be. All the things I write about and how sometimes, I revisit them when I’m less troubled thinking ‘I don’t see why I thought this was so deep at the time’. Then I wonder if that’s what my beautiful readers think. It doesn’t bother me much because I believe that the eyes see only what the hands write while the heart is troubled. If you fail to see, you will never have the opportunity to understand and, that’s fine by me. As long as you’re happy and I’m happy…in a different generation or life time.

So what does February mean to me? Nothing really but most people refer to it as the month of love. Next week happens to be Valentine’s Day and so many girls are looking forward to it; your girlfriend, your side chick, the person you’ve been leading on in the past few months. A lot of men obviously don’t value this day but trust me, if you disappoint, you too will be disappointed in the days following that. 

I came across this picture {above} the other day and it seemed funny at first because it reminded me of one of my situations. Then I looked at it again thinking ‘wow’. It made me realize that there are men in this world who treat their women like faulty, used instruments. Men who neglect, maltreat and use the women that they have been blessed with. That however isn’t the touching part. I started to think about the women in these situations. The virtuous woman, the praying wife and the enduring girlfriend.

How is this relevant to Valentine’s Day? Well honestly, it isn’t but, I’m going to make it relevant…I hope. According to the picture, these men don’t care and truth is, the women already know this. Despite the ill treatment and the pain and the buildup of hate, disgust and regret(I’m assuming here), the women stay. They stay to fight. Stay to conquer. Stay to cry in hope that one day, laughter will wipe away their tears. Most importantly, they stay to love a lot more than they hate. If women in unbearable situations (which I do not approve of) still stand for and believe in love, then it must be real. Hmm.

I actually came here to condemn this emotion that humans are so quick to associate themselves with. I was so eager to rat out my hate for the idea of love. Couldn’t wait to find a way to connect love with lies, caring to ignorance and happiness to self deceit. I was more ready than ever but, I got told something once by my support system at the time (4 years ago). He said sitting beside me, in front of a pole ‘if I got asked which was more real to me; this pole right here that we can both see and love, I would always choose love. Such deep words coming from a 15 year old. I was completely taken aback. 

I understand that this thing called love may not work out for half of us. At least it’s real and we could all have a shot at it. If and when it goes sour, just pour it down the sink like you do with your milk. I’ve heard of adventurous love, captivating love, reckless love and one that has recently been used on me by my warrior of a friend…calm love. I have a spirit young as the new born’s, a heart the diameter of the earth and the mind of an adventurer. I cannot wait till the day I get to experience all types of love. The day I fall hopelessly and stupidly in love, fiddle around a bit in the mess that I painfully fell in, wrap myself up in a dark corner, transition into an even more beautiful creature and fly right out of the love hole that I fell in with my new wings. Sounds painful but I believe there’s no reward in loving if you have no pain or regrets or lessons learned. 

I found a quote by Daphne Rae about loving until it hurts 
“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”
I like the idea of the absence of hurt. Imagine not feeling pain, an all too familiar feeling for me. I’m beginning to sound naive.

Now it is common fact that it’s very painful to wait for something that isn’t waiting for you. So, I hope that the beautiful soul I’m waiting to fall deeply in love with is sitting somewhere anticipating the day they get to fall just as hard for me. I pray the same for my amazing readers…Amen? 

I’ve always hated the 14^th of February since day one. I wouldn’t wish anybody happy nothing. Once I got wished happy valentine’s day by someone I emotionally hurt in a bad way. I should have believed then but, I didn’t think too much about it. Last year, I wore all black. Also got pestered by some guy that I couldn’t care less about while I was nonexistent for that day by the person I believed I fancied…haha petty boys, always trying to find ways to not spend the little money that they don’t have and I personally don’t need. This year, for the hopeless women that still believe in love, I too have become a believer. I’m even going to look forward to the beautiful flowers and romantic box of chocolates that I will be surprising myself with next week.

I’m going to end this with a line from drake’s rap in fireworks. He said
“I want to witness love, I never seen it close”
Must be a beautiful thing to experience so, I’ll try again. First try, second try, third try, BLISS. Right?

Love,
Hopelessly romantic and naive A
x