Reposting this from the old blog because I lack anything resembling shame or a sense of personal privacy.

…the last time I cried.

for Mary-Anne

I was in my ex-girlfriend's dorm room, having a long talk. She was trying her best to communicate to me that she'd fallen out of love with me, was in love with someone else, yet at the same time hurt my feelings as little as possible. She'd told me that she needed to spend more time focusing on her schoolwork, on graduation. She couldn't afford to have a boyfriend right now. She couldn't, nor did she want to, be with me any longer. I approached this situation as I approach everything. Intellectually. Analyzing everything. Trying to tell her that I was willing to wait for her…that there was no reason our relationship of 3 years had to end because of a change in her life. That two people as deeply in love as we were, such a deep and powerful love, should be able to work through and around any crisis, no matter what. This conversation continued for almost an hour. I tried to figure out why suddenly she felt this way, and she tried to spare me the truth.

I don't remember specifically the end of this conversation. I just remember a rising surge of panic. My brain, my heart, and my spirit were having difficulty processing the fact that suddenly and through no fault of my own, this woman who I loved and cherished with everything I had was suddenly disappearing. I was not willing to just discard my feelings for this woman to throw away the sheer bliss that she had made me feel over the course of our relationship. Worst of all was the fact that there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't change her mind. I couldn't make her see something that she hadn't already seen. I couldn't make it all better. That frustration combined with the pain of impending loss made me break down. I cried longer and harder than I believe I've ever cried in my life. I remember covering my face with my hands and just sobbing…sobbing….babbling incoherently about my love for her. I am not a crier at all, nor am I terribly outwardly emotional. The loss of control was terribly embarrassing; I remember trying to make myself stop, saying "This is so stupid" over and over again, trying to explain the way I was reacting against the fact that she was still calm. Trying to stop only made the tears flow harder, made the sobs more painful.

It has been almost a year since that moment, but if I close my eyes right now, I can recall the utter joy of the next moment. As I was curled up on her bed wailing out my grief and pain…my love, my life, everything that was in me that I couldn't seem to communicate to her verbally….everything came out of me, and as it was pouring out, she reached out and she touched me. She put her hand on my back and my head against her breast and she held me. She held me and rocked me and whispered that it would be alright. That we could work this out. That she was sorry for hurting me. Hearing her say these things brought such relief that I actually started crying harder. Feeling her body against mine having been so long without it brought me such pleasure that my cries actually increased to an almost feverish pitch. There was absolutely nothing like that moment. Sweetest pleasure, most bitter pain. We made love as if we'd never touched one another before and we would never see one another again. Afterward we lay in bed and talked about how a love like ours could conquer all. I kissed her hair and I marveled at her beauty and I thought to myself "I am lucky. I am blessed. Love can conquer all, and two people who truly love one another can do anything to sustain that love. This woman loves me as I love her. I am happy." That was the last of those moments.

Our moment, which to me was the center of the universe, the beginning of an always-increasing pinnacle of happiness….our moment was a lie. Perhaps 'lie' is extreme. Let's say that moment was a gift. A gift from a woman who no longer loved a man, but couldn't stand to see him suffer. A moment that that man, in the years ahead, could look back on with a smile and gladness. Time has worn my anger at discovering the truth behind her actions, the things she couldn't bring herself to tell me. Time has allowed me to look back on my love….and smile about the last time I cried.

Was there something I could have done to change this outcome here
As if I blinked my eyes and suddenly she up and disappeared
How can love escape your grasp without you ever letting go
And until she returns to my arms I may never know

Musiq Soulchild — "Mary Go Round"