Best Love…what they meant/mean to you…
Well, this is what had happened right? I don’t even know why I asked this question because truthfully, I’m not quite sure I’ve met my best love. (Goes to show you I wasn’t thinking of self when composing this challenge)
I will say this much…my ex of 8 1/2yrs, the one with whom I had a tumultuous and abusive relationship with was my best thus far…and I’ll tell you why. (of course I will, lol)
What I know about dude, is that he was an addict. Having a father who was an addict taught me the basics of the disease. When dude was sober, he was a wonderful friend and companion. He changed drastically the moment he was using.
As a sober man, he was loving, tender, respectful, protective, funny and endearing. He was a functioning addict, so he still managed to get up every day for work and provide. He was never selfish with his money or his time. We often had some of the best times cruising in the car up Boston Road from Bronx until we hit Port Chester. He’d point out all of the massive mansions and we’d end the trip with chili dogs from a hole-in-the-wall joint. We were movie buffs, music connoisseurs and had a knack for reading each other’s minds…especially where private jokes were involved.
He worked and I stayed a “housewife”. In spite of this…he made no qualms about doing the shopping, the laundry and sometimes…the cooking. He taught me a LOT. Deep esoteric, abstract, out of the deepest dimensions of the universe type knowledge and ideas. My brain never rested…challenges on a daily basis. We’d do book reports. He introduced the book “Superman to Man” and Assata Shakur’s autobiography to me.
When it was good…it was great. When it was bad…it was fucked up…but, I learned. I learned what he meant to teach me and what he didn’t mean to teach me. I learned how to lean on my faith and how to understand the difference between loving someone and holding on for the fears that sit in wait.
If there’s a “best”…he was it. He set the standard for what I do and DON’T want…and that’s a hell of a blueprint to work off of. I’ve since forgiven him for the things he put me through because I understand addiction and it’s workings. I saw the love in his eyes when he was lucid and the hate for himself, when he wasn’t. It was never about me…and THAT is a hell of a lesson to obtain. Realizing when someone is mistreating you that it’s not always YOU their mistreating, but the fears and ideas that hold them hostage. Thank you, my friend…you taught me well.
~waving at my friend~