Surviving the Letting Go (a short story)

They both stood at the door full of pride and bitterness and confusion and passion and hurt feelings.  The past weaved around them like those spider webs she hated cleaning. The tiny intricate webs, like that moment, meant that too much idle time had passed.  She had loved him in a way that made the Sun envious and work diligently towards re-entering her good graces.  They were a catastrophe, all beautiful and tucked in hues of blue and shame.  All she imagined is that it had all been a lie, but in that admittance also lay blame for her.  She willfully allowed him to mistreat her, assault her with the harshness of his indifference- that is until the folds of her Divinity lay in front of him. He would certainly oblige her in those moments. The others times, not so much.  Lora had committed to Adam though. She had been loyal in loving both of the pieces that created his Gemini Sun.  Regardless of the relentless changes from winter to summer and back to winter again, that often left her defenseless and ill prepared for the climate changes, she really had built her heart around him.

What had began as a goodbye quickly turned into a rekindling. There was a magnetism that even he, in his stubborn defiance of what was the nature of them, could not deny.  The spirit could not be contained, muffled or explained away.  Desire sat between them like a serpent slithering, full of venom and prepared to strike.   That day it began with a mere holding of hands. That trivial touch was plenty enough, and more than criminal. The wine made it a bit easier to forget, or maybe to remember, Lora hadn’t decided which one yet.  “Can I kiss you?” asked Adam. Her higher chakras knew that the answer should always be no, always, but her heart and sacral chakras were drowning out those energies of reason. She remembered how that last kiss had almost ruined her and starved her like summer droughts and bollweevils. But how could she really say no when it was in her essence to say yes?  Adam had journeyed precisely that deeply into her and had left his life force there, uncontained.  Kisses are often filled with inductions of amnesia, actually they always are, whether forgetting the bad deed of one’s current lover or a lover from one’s past.  There is something about the joining of lips, and possibly tongues, that means forgiveness and resurrection.

Of course Adam could not be satisfied by the gentle mixing of mouths, panting, and longing.  He had to have more of her, not because he wanted her, but because he needed her.  She was something to behold, her in all her beauty, wisdom and regalness.  She made him feel as a man should, alpha, Malcolm in debate, Coltrane after recording  A Love Supreme.  He abhorred her just for that. How dare she be a vice that he could not leave, a habit he could not quit.  Adam was above such notions, and meant not to change his mind on the thing. Today would be goodbye, regardless of how much her warm full body begged to be re-discovered.  He knew all of her passion and sacred spaces innately. Though he recognized that things were definitely over between them, he couldn’t help but wonder if her waters still flowed like the Nile.  Adam was a bit apprehensive. He was aware that he had played a large part in making her life almost unbearable for some time, and had made peace with it. Well the sort of peace that comes from releasing someone when you know all that you are capable of giving is not enough to satisfy. He had searched himself and knew that he didn’t love Lora, although he had told her so countless times.  He still could not quite prescribe what he felt; lust maybe and certainly respect for her beauty and brilliance, but not love.  He was being, in that moment, the asshole she continuously reminded him that he was, selfish, stubborn, and trying to do the right thing in an instance where there were no right things.  He would remember to reiterate that point after he had enjoyed her lips, hips, and all things womanly in between and beyond.

All Lora remembered was the entanglement.  What started out as a kiss proceeded to become her legs resting on his shoulders as first his mouth and then his manhood explored her.  Lora had tried desperately not to allow her pants and next her panties to be peeled away.  She had already been naked in front of this man in every way imaginable, and today she fell short of the courage she would need to pick herself up from the ground after he left.  She was a bit too familiar with him leaving and had become good at rationalizing the whys.  There’s nothing worse on the Goddess’s green earth than making excuses for the people who hurt you. It was a place of victimhood and she had pitied its citizens, that is before she moved there with thoughts of Adam in tow. Through him a certain amount of understanding came.  Things that she had never imagined enduring now hung from her bushels like overripe fruit.

After making love, after preparing it like one’s favorite meal, Adam again began to discuss how his leaving was good for her, him, and the other woman that he had chosen- his manhood still damp from being inside her.  Lora had been strong in her acceptance of the fate of their relationship up until that point.  Now she just wanted him to leave.  She felt ill. She had regrets. She couldn’t understand how she had allowed him to again ensnare her and couldn’t fathom why he would want to. This moment was just like the others, tumultuous at the expense of Lora’s fragile soul.  Yet there they were. Lora’s hands rested on her ample hips with a certain meanness that Adam had never seen before, she had flung the door open and demanded his exit.

He refused to leave, not necessarily because he did not want to go, he would give anything to escape her in that moment, but because he felt guilt in the matter.  Adam’s eyes were summer rain misty as Lora finally broke apart. “What more do you want from me?”, Lora inquired, wetfaced, disoriented and utterly confused. Adam couldn’t answer. He just stared.   Even then, somehow, she was modelesque, and he contemplated whether he was really ready to let her go.  He didn’t find the bed he had made to be pleasing at all to his pallet, especially since he knew some part of him still desired her in it.  After all, it was undeniable that there were feelings. He had expressed them often and she understood them even when they went unpronounced.  Feelings were never their issue. What lay at the center of the story of them had always been betrayal, and unfortunately nothing would grow from that barren soil.

It was all push and pull, him telling her he did not want her yet needing to hold her and relieve some of her pain.  She wondered in that moment if the Universe had sent him to destroy her, certainly he would not be satisfied until he had.  Sorrow had started to weigh down the limbs that were supposed to push him away.  The culmination of her bitterness from their first parting of ways almost a year ago up until that point, however, continued the fight.  She couldn’t stand to look at him mirroring all of the pieces of her broken heart.  He would have to leave without her eyes watching the door close.  She would not be abandoned still freshly open from him penetrating her, physically, mentally and spiritually.  Lora turned away from him and the love that she had grown to fancy, but also away from the ache that she had been wearing like a second skin.  She told herself after his fifth and final attempt to leave that she would accept the goodbye as it stood, and it did stand there in an almost human variety- refusing to be ignored.

Goodbyes are mostly filled with tinge. Lora’s tears cemented this truth.  All in all, she was a bit relieved though. Now, she could go on loving- even if only herself, which she certainly had at least partially stopped doing in an effort to endure loving him.  She felt like freedom and Chantilly laces as she prepared to bathe him away.  These are the rituals of womanhood, surviving the letting go.

Advertisements

15 Responses to “Surviving the Letting Go (a short story)”

  1. This is ab so lute ly wonderfuckingfull!
    I felt like I was Lora the whole time I read. “Lust maybe and certainly respect for her beauty and brilliance, but not love.” People get Love vs Lust confused so many times. Thank you so much for sharing big sis. I loved it

  2. Peace,

    This sounds almost like my last “relationsh*t”. If I hadn’t gone through therapy, self-love, opening myself up & generally not wallowing in the past then I’d be crying like blubbering fool. This is what I like to call some good ass writing & praise heaven & you for giving me this mental food.

    No offense to the offended but I’m gonna come back with more thoughts and I will be talkin’ my sh*t ala Kanye.

  3. OK, this was just beautiful and it reflected a moment in my life that taught me so many lessons. Thank you for writing this and letting me remember why I just let go and walked away. Love you for this!

  4. Um, I don’t even know where to begin! Have you been watching me? I thought I was the only one who struggled with letting go, especially when I KNEW it was the right (and sane) thing to do. Excellent! You have a new fan!

    Thank you for sharing,

    Monise

  5. The experiences of women in their multifaceted lives are shared. And within this short story, I was buried and resurrected with the hope of washing away the scars of letting go.

    There is a knot in my chest and tears waiting to be released. Thank you for the release.

    Selah.

  6. Saitonne Says:

    I came back to read it, the truth and the emotions behind it are what makes it so moving. It speaks to that memory buried within every woman who had that kind of love and pain in her life. Thank you for sharing.

  7. Fatimah Says:

    I am reading and wiping tears! This is a narration of my last relationship with a man that I loved very dearly. Honestly I do not know a woman who has not had a moment in time like the ones that you speak of above. Awesome story!! **fast snaps**

  8. B. Sanders Says:

    Just awesome. I’m not gonna lie. I cried reading this cause I’ve been there and felt those exact feelings. It’s so hard to let go… Thanks for this!

  9. nice. very real…

    i agree with fatimah in that it seems that these turning points/relationships are almost like a rite of passage. do you stay, or do you let go to make room for something better?

    thanks for opening the way for its expression!

  10. Peace Beautiful,

    I know this speaks from the Goddess side of the equation and I felt her hurt and pain but I felt his too. I know that divide like a motherfkr. However, I like the theme of survival. The hurts heal and time helps you let go. The more you don’t rub your nose in the sh*t, the more you learn to avoid it all.

    This was my 4th reading and it’s good, powerful work. I hope it helps to cleanse the souls of all of us who can relate and inspire those who have yet to move to do so…for the better. I was gonna go into a real good ass rant in this space but I know how to find you off-line. But you know I gots PLENNY MO’ to say but I’ll save it for later.

    KEEP WRITING! DO NOT EVER STOP!

    Peace & True Love,

    Wise

  11. dontdoesthat Says:

    Wow this blew me away I was lora for a good two years

  12. dontdoesthat Says:

    Wow this blew me away I was Lora for a good 4 years! Had to finally leave the country cos the Adam’s of this world will hunt you down

  13. Shared experience: 9
    Lesson learned: 0

    Is this from the “wronged woman” manual? So familiar and yet, why do we allow it? Until we say “enough” in unison, this scene will continue to play out behind closed doors through all the generations.

    Beautifully written… pass it out in junior high school as a cautionary tale.

  14. MonaMade Says:

    Who cannot remember when love, lust and heartache danced a continuance circle. Stopping, starting over, beginning again. I remember. This piece is a reflection of the love experiences of life, and the teaching lessons. Especially, when it’s time to move on. Saying goodbye ain’t easy, when that lust connection overpowers the rational senses. Enjoyed it. Look forward to your future words.

    Stroke the pen to the paper.

  15. damn Jo! I love this. I do. speechless.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: