#WEDJ2020 (08/31) | Territory
“Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” - 1 Chronicles 4:10
God coerced the moon, stars, sun and sky to orchestrate a moment like this. You and me. Us. Too perfect.
Orchestrate a moment where you, mere weeks before your wedding, ask if I, minutes before blocking both you and her on Facebook, still had feelings for you. It was like you needed to bare your soul to someone before you took the plunge into this thing called marriage. You didn’t want to walk in with loose strings that could get caught on the shoes of your past dalliances and take you down into the Hell you created for yourself.
I was one of the demons that dwelt with you. She didn’t know much about me except that I once existed before her. Shorty looks dead-ass like me. You sure she isn’t replacing me?
In my mind, I still own you. I still have you out here tripping over your own two feet. I could still call you and you’d hit the interstate to come see about me. I still have you shook. You’re still mine despite the state of Pennsylvania authorizing something else.
You are my territory. It’s been proclaimed as such by the heavens above and prayed about by mere humans below.
But that’s not the truth. I’m not promised you. I was just had by you. Being had doesn’t mean ownership.
Snapping back into reality, realizing my brokenness and my inability to swallow your reality. On my own, I cannot bear to taste your imperfections, created by my own transgressions and lack of self-forgiveness. A failure in the world’s eyes before they earn a chance to gaze at you.
You know this cannot work. For me. Just for me.
This has to fail for the universe to be right. This has to die for love to be on the right side of history. I have to let you go, to let you belong to someone who got all of you. I never got all, just some. I saw fragments of what your love could be but all of what your lust for me could handle. There is no solid footing on anything fun when it comes to my life. My fun was futile when it came to you.
Seeing y’all three children is a sight to be held in high regard. I love what I see. I can’t hate on Black love even if it is love where I don’t fit. It still holds value.
Your new owner still finds value in you. I wonder if she still will after she finds out that an email from you just graced my inbox.
Begging to be free from bondage never looked so good.