Love Note

I no longer write about love

It used to interest me

Cause me to ponder

Leave me utterly bewildered and befuddled

Create longing

Force me to gesticulate wildly

Generate tears

Emphasize pain

Put the exclamation point on joy

I came to the conclusion that

I no longer write about love.



Charged Air

This is what it felt like.  The air leaving the room.  She’d heard it said before, many times as a matter of fact.  It was a popular cliché in any dramatic story but she never could identify the feeling.  Until now.

Staring at Rowan as they sat inches apart in chairs facing one another, felt like a moment stolen from a counseling reality show or even worse some kitschy game show on that network.  Was she supposed to have a response?  Is this the point that she asked questions?  How do you respond to six words that seemed so out of place between lovers?

She looked down at her wrist and the sterling silver memento of his love, fiddling with it nervously.  Charms clinking together, as though they were ticking down the minutes until this all blew up.  The heart that was the first of many proclaiming that she owned his, the star that he gave her to signify her place in his universe, the initial of his last name designating that one day it would be hers….but nothing to foreshadow this moment in time.

2 empty chairs

The radio played quietly in the background.  One more twerk song that could fit into any hot, sweaty night in the club and she allowed her mind to run back to the days when they would explore their sexuality together in those environments.  Her watching as some random identified him as prey, allowing him to connect and then interrupting with some slick moves of her own.  Role playing.  She had fulfilled every need for so long that she wasn’t sure who “natural Camille” was.  The stripper sliding down the pole for his amusement.  The conquered woman playing sub to his dom.  The business consultant reviewing his resume and making professional recommendations.    She had been his end all.  The new millennium Ride or Die chick….

He breathed in, transitioning the air between them with little movement.  Reviewing his features, beautiful eyes and full lips, she couldn’t believe those words had come from this mouth.  The same mouth that had captured hers in moments of heated passion, covering hers erotically and in erotic places, her knees clicked together at the thought.  The mouth that had spoken encouragement and dirty words in her ear.  The same teeth that had nipped at her during love’s play had just parted to issue a hurtful declaration.

There was a time she would have thought he was beyond such simple things, such petty moments.  A racing mind tried to identify when he changed…..nothing.  Nothing stood out.  There was no major transition from the old Rowan to the new.  He appeared to be the same man who she’d kissed goodbye before work this morning.  “What the hell am I expecting, some Men In Black-type shit?” she thought to herself.  He was the same person on the outside but the changes internally had taken over.

His hand reached for hers, “Are you alright?”  Oh!  She hadn’t said anything since his announcement.  All of this processing but no communication.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied.  I’m sorry, I zoned out.  Now you had left off, with “I’m going to cheat on you….’

This was as good a place to begin as any.

©Stephanie Bryant 2013

Emotionally Unavailable

We all do it…check out.  You know that non-committal fashion of doing the necessary or “phoning it in”.  We’re all guilty.

A friend of mine (sidebar: I know people say that when they’re talking about themselves and don’t want to disclose but if you read my poetry you know that I disclose plenty so this is really a true statement with me), now about that friend….she was discussing the distance between her and her fiancée.  Her biggest feeling was one of disconnect.   An even greater feeling was in how they perceived the demonstration of love.  She thought that love was grandiose gestures, constant connection and verbal emotives.  He thought it was being a caretaker.  Your hedges are trimmed (not in the sexy figurative way), your lawn mowed (yeah, again not that way) and appliances in the house were never broken.  Her determination was that he was emotionally unavailable.

I don’t know that I agree with her definition of emotionally unavailable because I’ve been there.  I’ve been in the position of trying to figure out if someone loved me or even cares and it wasn’t because he wasn’t doing things for me or saying the words but because he had closed the emotional passageways in our relationship.  I could no longer be sure that I knew his intentions or understood his desire to be with me.  Was it just to fill space and time?  Was it because it was easier than knowing I was with someone else?  And, while expressing all of this to him, my love, I got responses that lacked passion.  The right words without the warmth.  No matter how I pushed he wasn’t responding to my gestures.

You know the moment in Dreamgirls where Effie (Jennifer Hudson) is singing I’m Not Going?  There is a point where it is only she and the man she loves, Curtis (Jamie Foxx) left in the room and she says “Please stay and hold me, Mr. Man, Try it mister, try it mister I know, I know, I know you can”.  It is a painful moment!  As she is grasping at his suit jacket, and looking at him pleading musically for him to STAY AND LOVE ME, he is battling his emotion and works to steel himself against her (see the pic below).  I’VE BEEN THERE!

I’ve been there and I’ve been scared.  I’ve been terrified of my reaction.  You see, it’s not the hurt that is the worst part of having a partner become emotionally unavailable, it’s the result.   I become emotionally available.  I’m not embarrassed to admit the powerful feeling of knowing that someone loves you and only you.  That he isn’t looking anywhere else because you satisfy his wants and needs.  I’m being painfully honest when I divulge how emotionally available I become when I’m pushed away.  I’m a love seeker and passion is my drug.  Put it in a syringe and I’ll shoot up.  Offer it in pill form and I’ll develop a 20-pill-a-day habit.  Love with the right person is a high that you can’t find anywhere else until you have to find it somewhere else.

I like to call it Google love.  I’m getting all of the results with one search engine.  My tabs are maximized and no other tabs can be opened in this session.  I can’t function for any other user because the current user has the browser all wrapped up and I like it!

So that’s where it is.  I don’t want to be involved with an emotionally unavailable spirit because it forces me to seek life’s other possibilities.  Besides, you can only win in love if you make yourself vulnerable to the journey and all its bumps, scrapes, bruises as well as it’s hugs and kisses–OPEN IS AVAILABLE and no one likes a “closed for business” sign?