This will be the only type I would ever even consider moving forward.
I used to write about Andy and I a lot. It was because, to me, our relationship was something completely different than any other place I had been in my life. It was calm, it wasn’t chaotic, it wasn’t a love I found myself fighting. It was my retreat after I had been to battle.
He was my battery recharge. He was my “I’ve got you, baby, say as you please”. He was my spine.
Now that we’ve been retired to The Ones That Didn’t Work, I find myself needing to write about him to understand how loving someone as much as I did could go so fucking horribly wrong.
I always thought, much as Disney taught me, that if I did the right things, if I lived the right way, if I loved with an unabashed fervor, I would find someone who would fight for me as I did for them. Someone as loyal as I am, someone who would, as I believe in doing, praise in public and disagree in private.
I’m not sure how I keep getting shortchanged in the one fucking area that really matters to me. He was brilliant, beautiful, and every ideal of Americana you could find in a painting. I would have settled for loyal and that seems to be the real issue.
These people out here don’t really understand the word loyal.
It isn’t a part-time, whenever you want to, until you decide you don’t, type of thing. Look, I have secrets from 35 years ago, bitches I ain’t fucked with in decades, those stories don’t leave my mouth. I don’t care about the vibe we have now, when I said loyal, that’s what I meant. I’m not gonna change shit up just because we’re not snuggling up to the same titty on the kitty now.
I don’t know how to be disloyal. It’s not in me.
Ultimately, this same trait leaves me wondering why I can’t have someone in my life who will consistently choose me. Who will consistently keep my name in high esteem, if I’m present or not. These dudes these days, man, they’re just a nasty little virus in mens outerwear. They have no fucking substance.
I have this motto; if someone is speaking ill on those I care for, they will learn within milliseconds that it won’t be tolerated. I won’t stand there and listen to someone throw salt all in the game of a person I care about. That shit, to me, is the same as the person saying I spoke all of that nastiness about my loved one. I listened to it, I didn’t shut it down, yeah…I may as well have said it.
If I find out you were in the presence of someone speaking ill of me and you just sat back and absorbed it…go back where you heard it, because clearly, you’re not my people. You’re just another disloyal trashbag ass individual out here who doesn’t have a fucking vertebrae to lean on.
You’re fucking spineless.
I think I just needed to talk that out. There’s not a resolution here, clearly, simply me trying to unpack all of the ways that loving him turned my heart inside out, like a strongarm robber does your fucking pockets.
Sister, I’ve been there. “The smear” is usual in toxic systems...you were just the newest and freshest scapegoat for issues they have and can’t let themselves see.
Man... oh man oh man oh man do I ever feel every letter of each word you utter in the aftermath of yet another one of my fucked up pipe dreams... busted. That makes me think of good old Langston though and that always lightens my heart which is quite paradoxical since he writes about such heavy shit. Indeed I too truly wonder, What happens to a dream deferred...