No Cap

Dear Mum,

It's 1:06 a.m. Sunday morning and I've been awake for the past few hours.

After a long day that included my virtual weight watchers meeting, an hour workout, dog walking, laundry, and cleaning the kitchen, I fell into a deep, coma-like sleep while watching the Detroiters on Netflix at around 7 p.m.

I woke up at 11:15 p.m. to a Marco Polo from Cap.

He's in New Orleans this week, working the Superbowl (lucky bastard) and complaining about...well, his usual, every day complaints. After about 10 minutes of chatting he ended his polo by saying, "And speaking of disgusting, I was thinking of doing some disgusting things to you..."

And THIS was the moment I began to tune him out. 

We "broke up" two years ago for reasons I'm still not 100% sure of but after ONE fight, our relationship was never the same. 

And here's the worst part. 

WE STILL HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THAT FIGHT.

He doesn't want to discuss it.

So....

I did what you taught me to do and fell the fuck back.

I can't make a man want to be with me.

I can't make a man discuss something with me he doesn't want to discuss.

So...

We've been "just friends" since the break up. 

Friends who message each other every, single day.

Friends who visit each other whenever I'm in Jersey

Friends who text my sister whenever I don't respond to a message in a timely manner.

And I'm willing to be that friend.

But I won't be a damn fool.

Any man who isn't able to have a grown ass, adult conversation with me about how our relationship ended, damn sure isn't taking me for a trip down memory lane about what we used to do together in the bedroom.

I'm good on that.

I responded to his Marco with nothing but friendship, and didn't bother replying to his flirtation.

As much as I still love him, will always love him...

Maybe letting go of Cap will be easier than I think. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Mom

Dear Mom, I suppose that the act of writing this letter means I'm starting to accept that you're gone. I don't know how I'm supposed to live without my mother. You didn't prepare me for this. I've spent my entire life worrying about you in some form or fashion. Worrying about what you'd think of whatever rash decision I was certain to be on the precipice of making. Worrying about your ever-worsening health. Worrying about whether or not you'd notice the weight I'd either lost or gained since we'd seen each other last.  (Spoiler Alert: You always noticed. Carefully worded reprimands if I'd gained, exuberant congratulations for a loss, unfortunately it's taken me years to rid myself of the habit of worrying about my weight before a trip home. But one good thing has come from this experience. I've made damn sure that my daughter knows I will ALWAYS welcome her home with open arms, and will never, EVER comment, or give a flying fuck, abou...
Read more

Goodbye (For Real This Time)

Dear Mum, I was so busy mourning you that I didn't have time to fully acknowledge the loss of my relationship with Cap.  It's finally hitting me now. I can accept the fact that he doesn't want me anymore and I have with as much grace as I can. I asked him to fall back in August 2024 and he has done so. But I still hear from him almost daily. Mostly through text messages on a group chat he created with me and Fareeda.  This is how he keeps in touch. It's how he holds on. I usually don't reply to his political rantings and unfunny reels but he knows that I read them. And we Marco Polo about once a week.  All neutral topics. The kids, our jobs, how much we loathe Trump.  No mention of us. Who we were. What we lost. Who we have to pretend to be now in order to remain in each other's lives. He doesn't want to have those conversations. He doesn't do difficult which means he obviously can't be in a relationship. At least not with me. So though I'm mour...
Read more

Untitled

I don't have a mother anymore and yet...  Somehow, I'm still expected to live my life. Normally. Like a full-fledged, rational human being except... I'm not. Grief isn't rational. I wake up every morning with the same sense of loss, with the deepest HOLLOW I've ever experienced. I have Amira, of course and I truly thank God every day for that miracle. I have Amira and Fareeda and Jewel but...  Both of my parents are gone now. I don't have a mother anymore. I don't have my mother. There are no more doctors to call, no more prescriptions to fill, no new medications to try because my mother is gone. Resting in peace at last. But... I haven't gotten there yet. To the peaceful part. Most of the time, what I feel is loss.  It's most acute, most palpable when I'm in Cambridge. I've been back only once since my mother died and hope not to return anytime soon.  I went "home" to Cambridge for Little Desi's 30th birthday party but I staye...
Read more