Hey Girl Hey!

Welcome to my little corner of the web. I document my adventures in life, love, and the moments in between. Hope you follow along!

Coming Home Again

Coming Home Again

relationship-second-chance.jpg
To be deeply known is ecstasy.
— Myss Bradley

I wish I had the energy or the repressed sense of obligation I once felt to reply back to texts from pseudo suitors. Wait. Sarcasm. I didn't realize the things I kept near me in an effort to appear more free were really the things that hindered my freedom. And feeling like I had to say "I'm doing great, how are you?" in response to "Hey" texts from choosy lovers wasn't the route to freedom at all.

I know it's not good to make homes out of humans, but the fact that full circle, freedom, and home means him is not at all a coincidence as much as it is fate. Potential no longer glitters him, it's something else that makes him gold. It's something completely different. It's drive, it's happiness, it's tangible, it's real. It's the love he has for himself. And it's trickled down to me.

You and I are now we again.

I ran into my ex the other day, working his same cashier job (no shade, I promise), laugh boisterous as ever, soft curls on fleek. It bothered him how confidently I walked past him, how brief and collected my "hey" was, so much so that he stopped what he was doing to come to my table, interrupt my waffle fries, and investigate my lack of thirst in him. It was as if he wanted to ask why I didn't need a drink of him. "You must got a man now," he half-joked.

I have a theory that exes are drawn to you like a flame, curious, intrigued, and reappearing after months (and sometimes years) of space and time passing by because they can feel your thoughts replacing them with another. I've seen it. First, from cashier ex and then from ex fiance ex. He was disappointing. I always had an image of the man I thought he was, but not even a marriage could keep him from trying to make my hotline go bling.

I side-eyed his texts heavy, feeling sorry for the wife who probably has no idea of who he can be. "I miss you." Miss me with your missing me's. It's tainted and I have no need for it in this space I'm in. But I digress.

The funny thing is, it had never stopped. We never stop. We always love. Sometimes life has gotten in the way, a lot of the time life has gotten in the way. I don't like to go into deep explanations of all that's went on between us, but it's been three years of ups and downs, of losing connections and reconnecting, of not understanding each other at all, and finally, just easy, seamless peace.

It's work, but it's evolved into jobs that we both enjoy clocking in to - a relationship and love neither of us need a vacation from, and it came from a lot of self-work and self-love, which has ultimately contributed to the way we love each other.

We are better people now than we were then, which has made coming together again a beautiful, magical thing. 

We try our hardest to stay down even while we're down. The off moments of our relationship have always strengthened the on's. And now that I feel like I'm coming back into my own as an individual and no longer missing myself, I can give my all to the man that's committed to giving his all to me.

I've always had him. Loving my king is like coming home, so how could we ever stop? I just needed him to see what I see in him. And now that he does, it's no wonder the thirst I've received has seen nothing but dryness from me.

We're on a plane right now with plans to wake up in Vegas tomorrow morning.

There's absolutely no place I'd rather be.

How's your Monday going?

Photo via James Guerrisi

mornings | 01

mornings | 01

Limbo Limbo Limbo

Limbo Limbo Limbo