Blog entry by Sam Angels

Picture of Sam Angels
by Sam Angels - Tuesday, 23 February 2021, 11:03 AM
Anyone in the world

Half of me thought I’d never hear from him again. Half of me knew I would.

We said goodbye 18 months ago when he still didn’t know what he wanted. I found Mr. C (or did he find me?). I said goodbye to Mr. C. And then he came back—not Mr. C. but Mr. 18 Months Ago. Like nothing had ever happened or not happened between us.

“That’s nice that he wrote you a note saying hello. Now leave it at that,” Grandma said.

“But I already replied!” I said, hoping Grandma might change her mind. “What if he calls?”

“If he really cared, he could have called all this time.”

He could have. But he didn’t. It has been 18 months. That’s two babies ago. This blog—my baby—didn’t even exist 18 months ago.

“Kaneisha, he’s going to use you.”

“But what if I want to use him? Maybe I can use him!” I pleaded.

“Kaneisha, this is his pattern.  He comes out of nowhere, gets what he wants from you, and then disappears again.  It’s like when I want to make a dress.  I get out the pattern and use it to make the dress. I know exactly what I’m going to get because it’s a pattern. Once I’ve made the dress, I put the pattern away until the next time I need it.”

So was appearing and disappearing his pattern? Or was I his pattern–something familiar and useful he took out when he needed something and then put away neatly until he needed it again?

I quickly realized that thinking about why he does the things he does was going to get me nowhere. I had to take Grandma’s lesson and think about what it meant for me. I had to figure out what my pattern was, and see if it was serving me.

- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - MY PATTERN – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – -

I leave men before they can leave me. I move to a new place (sometimes a new country) and start over. I find a new man, pack the past away neatly, and the new man and I grow closer until he starts to fade away—at which point I leave. Before he can leave me.  I leave the relationship and eventually leave the place that reminds me of the relationship.  Always, always—the men I leave, the ones who not so long ago were leaving me, come looking for me.  It’s like they can sense how excited and new I feel in my new city and in my new headspace but that they can also sense how vulnerable I am at the same time.

I’ve graduated from Harvard. I have the amazing opportunity to work for myself as a writer and coach. I’m getting along beautifully with everyone in my family. My friends are healthy, happy, and there for me. I’m healing from the disintegration of me and Mr. C’s relationship. I’m moving—to Beverly Hills of all places! Just when I think I’m all better, I’m tempted with a relationship relapse.

That is my pattern. It’s time for a new one. This dress doesn’t fit me anymore.


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