I’m a book worm wall flower type of girl, who comes from a long line of book worm wall flower type girls. My mother wasn’t necessarily the most traditional African parent, but she did have strict rules about things like dating and wearing make-up. I wasn’t allowed to date until I was 16, and with my introvert ways and questionable social skills, I didn’t get around to exploring the world of romance until college. Although I wasn’t a big dater, I saw a lot of examples of relationships, negative and positive, as I grew up. Witnessing these relationships led me to believe that I would never make the mistakes of those around me. It gave me a false belief that I knew exactly what I wanted, and that I had the tools to have a prosperous relationship when I finally entered one. It’s really bizarre to just carry on with life in the same manor that I did before, when I’m used to having this other person, my partner in crime, right beside me along for the ride. I guess this is what I get for keeping my circle so small and not putting more effort into relationships. It would be nice to have others to fill the void.
It takes me literally two decades to find someone who can tolerate me, who understands me. I’ve always been the type to feel like a misfit, but somehow a week of good music and good conversation led me to a relationship with a person who seemed to be the male version of me. To this day, I’m not sure if this relationship sprouted from convenience, passion, or just mutual like for Pac Div, but it happened and less than a year later its done. Now I’m trying to figure out what one does after they spend months effortlessly building a strong friendship and bond with a person and than have to let go of it for their own well-being.