Closure by India Lindsey

This morning I prayed to God with tears streaming down my face. I begged and I pleaded for him to please make Chaun and my relationship work and he presented me with what I was most afraid of, the truth. It never will. It never ever will. That was something hard for me to come to grips with. I had exasperated all of my time, energy, money and life to make my relationship work. I was a woman who maintained her appearance. I cooked and cleaned, I put the famed pornstar Pinky to shame in bed– yet and still I wasn’t enough to sustain our relationship and after four long years, I grew exhausted. Long nights turned into early mornings, and still, I felt lonelier in the arms of my man than I ever felt when I was alone. When your relationship is failing, you ignore the signs right in your face. Us women, we often hold on longer than we need, too afraid of the unknown. We are afraid of starting completely over and ending up in the same predicament again. We accept the love we have because we are too afraid to go out and find what we deserve.

Despite my prayers and my hoping that things would get better, I had to admit that I felt an emptiness with Chaun that I’d never felt before. I felt like I was missing a piece to my puzzle, like I could love someone else so much deeper than I loved the man I’m with.  Chaun no longer gave me the butterflies he once did when we first started dating. The honeymoon stage was over. I wished I could go back to the random flowers, the long phone calls, the part where we got to know the best of each other, but those days were long gone. I missed the way he once made me feel. My soul was hungry, thirsting for a love I couldn’t get back. I looked up at the glass mirror above me as I lay in bed. It was dark but I could still see the silhouette of our naked bodies staring back at me. Was I in this relationship alone?

We had just had another amazing sex session, and Chaun was knocked out beside me, as usual, snoring lightly. I knew there was no way I’d be falling asleep anytime soon. My mind was racing.

I thought about how, about eight months into our relationship, things started falling apart between us. It was like we finally came up for air after drowning in the newness of the relationship and the bomb ass sex that we had all the time and realized we weren’t as compatible as we once thought we were. Chaun was content with where his life was. He worked and made decent money, but he wasn’t interested in climbing the ladder at his company. He didn’t have any ambition. He was satisfied with his paycheck and couldn’t understand why he should try to do any better than he’d already done. I, on the other hand, wanted it all. After sacrificing so much of my time and energy in nursing classes and then changing my major to fashion merchandising, I knew the value of hard work and how rewarding it was when you set a goal and accomplished it regardless of the odds stacked against you.

I wanted to live the life I always dreamed of.

I wanted to be married. I wanted the long, white dress and the tiara, the church full of people, the opportunity to ride off into the sunset toward a new life with my husband. I wanted the huge house, the lavish vacations, and the fat bank account. I wanted children. I wanted to live a life of comfort and ease, built from the work that my husband and I put in together. I wanted to marry a man who was ambitious, who knew how to get exactly what he wanted, and who never settled for what was just okay.

I wanted Chaun to be that husband for me, but he was more than satisfied with being my boyfriend, in this apartment we shared. Chaun didn’t want what was better. He wanted what was easy. He always changed the subject when I mentioned marriage. He was indifferent about children. He’d never mention the job listings I’d email him that I knew he qualified for.

Chaun and I had very little in common if I’m being completely honest. We had amazing sex… that man could put it all the way down in the bedroom… but that’s all we had together. We didn’t have common interests or goals. We were two people living different lives in the same house.

I lay there next to Chaun and looked at the silhouette of his sleeping body. He was fine, make no mistake about it. But he didn’t move me anymore, and I knew I was wasting my time and my potential settling for him.

What I didn’t have with Chaun made me miss what I had with Kent all those years ago.

Some people go through life never finding the one. They date countless people but no one seems to keep their interest for long or capture their heart. There are also people who find their true love early on and will be with that person until the end of time. For those of you who are lucky enough to have found the love of your life – good for you. But for many people like myself, finding the one can be scary – almost too scary– and we do stupid things as a young person which forces those people to leave. That is what happened to me. Sometimes the love of our life abandons us. Looking back, he and I were too young to know what we were giving up on. I wished someone had told me that love was meant to work for, and that it didn’t come easy. I guess you could blame my parents for loving me so unconditionally. I thought love was easy and when things got rough, I left. What could’ve happened if Kent and I were a little older, a little more mature when we met each other? What could we be if our paths crossed again now, years after we met that afternoon in the laundry room? I had so many thoughts and memories, but I squeezed those things out of my mind, quickly. Those days were over. I closed my eyes and forced myself into a restless sleep.

***

Before I left for work this morning, we had a huge argument. So huge, that I didn’t think our relationship would ever be the same afterwards. I went there and said some unforgivable things, but I was tired, irritable, horny – I shouldn’t be responsible for my words under those circumstances. Chaun rarely, if ever, argued. He was a peaceful man and I respected that about him. He rarely raised his voice but he didn’t need to. His peaceful nature got his point across. I had asked him the question that always sent him over the edge. It was a simple question: “Do you plan to marry me?” I had asked him before, and before his reaction was different. He ignored me. Ignored me. Like I wasn’t anything, like I was groupie chick he’d just met– instead of his girlfriend of three years. My birthday was approaching and I needed to know. I needed to know if this relationship was moving forward or moving backwards and if it were moving backwards, I was prepared to pack up my things and go for good.

Chaun was getting dressed in my bathroom, and I was watching him in the doorway. I admired his handsome features. The reason I had been so drawn to him. I’ll admit, I was rather superficial when I met Chaun in college. My man was so fine to me. Our features complimented each other. He had always been a looker. His light skin complemented his hazel eyes. His neatly styled dreads were pulled back into a hair tie. Chaun was a tall man, about 6’5 with a build that showed his dedication to the gym. His arms were ripped from the 90 lbs. he pushed at the gym three times a week. I looked at his hands, so strong, and wondered how a band would look on his left hand, fourth finger. I wondered if we had children, would they have his light skin or my chocolate skin? Would they be tall him or short like me? If we had a girl, would she have my sassiness or would she inherit the peaceful nature of her father? I wondered if they’d have his slender nose or my wide nose. If my future babies would have his gap or my wide smile. I envisioned that our baby we would create together would be the most beautiful masterpiece I’d ever laid my eyes. Daydreaming about our future seeds took me to the inevitable: I couldn’t have children if we hadn’t already established the most important part, something I desired most—marriage. I would be twenty-seven in two days and I wanted children, but I wanted marriage first. I refused to bring children into a world without being married. I was far too traditional. I wanted the dream every girl dreamed of. The wedding, the two kids – a boy and a girl – the American family. I wanted that — I needed it.

“Do you plan to marry me?” my voice chalked up.

Adjusting his tie, he looked at me in the doorway. I thought he didn’t hear me until I saw a frown appear on his face, his eyebrows and eyes were thick with fury. I wasn’t sure if he was disgusted with the way I looked today or if the question I had asked had turned him off.

“Here you go again with this bullshit, Emery. It’s too early,” he finally said.

Chaun finished getting dressed and made his way to the kitchen. He left me standing there. I followed him; he wasn’t going to passively dismiss this conversation again, like he had done to me before. It wasn’t about to go down like that. When he reached the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Chaun?” I called out.

“What, Em?”

“Can you just answer my question at least?”

“No”, he said shortly. I continued to probe.

“No you don’t want to answer my question, or no you don’t want to marry me?” I asked.

“No, just NO!”, he yelled, then dropped a cube of sugar in his cup. He never turned around to face me, but he continued talking, “Why do you want to have this conversation? We’ve only been dating a mere three years. We are just getting to know each other. You keep letting your friends and your sister force you to think you need marriage. Listening to that Single Ladies radio show and letting them feed you to think that’s the next step in your life. Well, marriage isn’t for everybody, Emery. And we are good now. I don’t want to ruin what we already have.”

By now he was screaming, and I was a bit afraid of what would happen next if I continued, but I couldn’t stop. This was the most emotion I’d ever seen Chaun express in the entire time I’ve dated him. I didn’t understand Chaun. He came from a two parent household. His parents had been married for over twenty years. His grandparents had been married for forty years, his aunts and uncles were married. Even his younger sister, Chanel, was married. Why he didn’t want to experience that was beyond me. It wasn’t like he was one of those men who didn’t have an example of marriage to aspire to. He had it, yet he still didn’t want marriage for himself.

“Your parents have been married for twenty years this coming May, and you don’t want that for yourself?,” I questioned. Chaun turned around and looked at me for the first time the whole conversation. His light brown eyes were red, I noticed he may have been crying.

“Please don’t bring my parents into this. You know nothing about their relationship,” his voice crackled a bit.

By now, he had finished his coffee and was heading towards the door. I tied my silk robe, as he reached for the knob. My heart beat sped up. For some reason, it felt like the last time I would see him. I had two choices: finish the conversation or let it go. I could drop the wedding conversation, tell my man I loved him and still continue my relationship. Miserable, and uncertain of where our relationship was going, but in a committed relationship nonetheless.

I should have left the argument at no. No is a full sentence, and it is certainly a full answer. I shouldn’t have continuously dug deeper– the developing tears in his eyes should have shown that I was touching sensitive territory– but I had to dig for more. I was on a rampage and the only way I’d get an answer was to keep probing him.

“Well, if you don’t want marriage with me, I’m done,” I said softly.

The hurt I thought I’d see on his face when I said that never appeared. He sneered. His reaction was a lot more smug than I had been prepared to take in.

“Okay. We’re done then.”, he said shortly slamming the door in my face. His face held no type of remorse or regret with my decision.

I was stunned. I stared at my apartment door for what seemed an eternity. If it weren’t for my buzzing alarm clock waking me from my trance, I would still be standing right there.