Well this is ackward. A mixture of alcohol, bravado and anger had gotten me this far, I was now in this boy’s house and he was looking at me expectantly like I was supposed to say something. Technically I am supposed to say something because I called and said I wanted to talk but now I’m standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. My brain has decided to leave the room so I guess I’ll just stand here .
So weird thing, at my old age I’v never actually had a breakup conversation face to face. It’s always over text and I usually just block the person before they get a chance to reply so I don’t actually have any past experience from which to channel. I therefore decide to go with complete honesty. “So, I’m here because I’m angry and I was tipsy and it seemed like a good idea so I have no idea what to do now “
If he thought the whole thing was weird he did not show it or I was too self involved to notice, either way the next logical step was to cry so I did! Standing in the middle of the room, in the house of someone who had made it clear they didn’t want me but crying felt right so I went with crying.
There are only a handful of people who have seen me cry as an adult, like really cry,my mother, one of my sisters, Itumeleng and I’m sure maybe one other person. I hate unnecessary tears and I find those who randomly cry weak so why was I crying? My ego wants me to say it is because it was a distraction but the truth is I was actually really hurt and honestly the crying felt good! Cathartic even and so I let the tears flow. To his credit he did go with the gentlemanly option and held me which was nice.
You know in the romance movies when a girl is crying and the boy she is mad at tries to hold her so she resists until she finally lets him!! Nope, not me, I just gave in, I wanted to be held and I wasn’t about to play those games. Also had I known how nice it feels to be held by men I would have cried more often!! Have I been denying myself nice things in the name of strong black womanhood!! From now on I am going to be a damsel in distress more often and let random men hold me.
Anyway done with the crying and having decided I had already embarrased myself and there was no point in trying to salvage whatever dignity I had left I decided to tell him all of it, right down to my attempt to rekindle my romance with the EAMOM. All in all it was a nice polite, actually fun conversation. Sure we were still broken up but we were handling it like adults and I was less angry. I couldn’t wait to tell my friend that she was wrong and that this had been a great idea!
Eish but you know that thing that the lightning does, illuminating dark skin so that it’s like polished copper, and you have had a few drinks and just been emotionally drained and the boy is talking but you are no longer listening to his words but kind of wondering how his lips would feel and ….and… and