Skip to main content

Handwriting. On the Wall. The End.

The handwriting is on the wall. I see it, and while it's painful, I have to plan accordingly. I have to protect myself and try not to become bitter.

New Boo is falling out of love with me. He can deny it if he wants to, but I see it. He can't hide his disgust and disdain with me, and there's nothing I can do to make it better because I don't know where it all went wrong.

When he left for work this morning, he didn't even let me watch him walk out. He scurried out to get to the job he hates even more than me. And I knew, in that instant, that our situation is over. I cried so hard. My homegirl did her best to convince me that I was overreacting. Maybe. But now I know for sure he doesn't want to be with me.

I went to the city with my homegirl and then I went to work. Usually when I'm in the city with him, he wants to meet me so we can go home together. We did that, but on the way home, we were talking about walking. He likes to do it, but I'm not a fan. That's when he said, "That's why I don't like waiting for you." Basically, if he gets off the train and the bus isn't there, he doesn't mind walking home. I'm not like that, so now he doesn't want to wait for me. He's never said that to me. 

I could take all this as the newness of us is wearing off. And if it is, I know it's the beginning of the end because he likes new and interesting. Now I'm just old hat...and he doesn't love me anymore.

The killer part? I don't think he'll leave me because he won't have anywhere else to go. So he'll stay here, fall out of love with me, and just string me along. Well, that's not quite true. He won't string me along -- he'll just not be bothered with me altogether.

My heart hurts because I've invested so much of my love into this relationship. My heart is sore because I see the end coming. He doesn't want to marry me. He doesn't want to be with me. And he can say whatever he wants, I see him. 

I honestly hope I'm just being paranoid. But I'm probably not. I know what my heart feels...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.