Here at my cousin’s house in Kent, I’ve been caught in the throes of a party.
I’ve been trying to stay on the periphery, but in truth don’t feel like partying at all.
The food is good however, and well that makes up for it, but I just feel anti-social.
Most of the people here I have never met. In fact, of all the people here, I know two. My cousin and his cousin, both of whom I grew up with.
It’s not that I don’t want to meet people. In fact, these are the most black people I’ve been around (fughet about West Indians) since I’ve been in London.
I’ve chatted and been amiable, but I have definitely avoided the thick of things.
In fact, I’ve spent most of the evening blogging and searching for jobs online.
What’s wrong with me?
I know what it is.
I talked with YMK last night, and although the conversation didn’t strictly have what would be considered negative overtones, you know, it was about committment and such and well, we both admitted we were afraid of it.
We got cut off, and didn’t end it so there’s a question mark right there, a pause in the conversation Goddess knows when it will resume (still fucking broke).
Then last night, in another of my surprisingly plentiful dreams of late that have YMK in them, I dreamt that he had visited me when I was living in my grandmother’s house in Barbados. He had brought a whole set of friends with him and he was using them as buffers between us. He was avoiding a conversation with me, and I knew it. Called him on it.
I felt anti-social in the dream and for the most part stayed away from the guts of the lime.
This is exactly how I feel right now. Like going into my room and not coming out until everyone is gone.
Our conversations are always pragmatic, and never one to wait around, but there is a part of me that is not willing to contemplate that YMK and I will never get our chance.
I’m just so fucking sick of that happening to me, and I just don’t want that to happen between he and I. Except, I know it won’t be three months and then he’ll be here. To be honest I don’t think it’s going to happen in six months. Maybe not even in a year.
What do I do? Wait? I never wait. I hate waiting for the bus, why would I wait for a man?
I really miss him. I just miss him holding me, and making me laugh and all the things that made what we had special.
I just know I can’t wait. Not indefinitely, and right now, I know we have to throw away whatever timetable I felt we had.
There’s a party raging around me. Most people are deep into their drinks, and me… I just want to go and read somewhere about how impossible it is to find and connect with one’s soulmate, and how love can build bridges across forever. Something that involves a quiet room.