A Pair Under Pears

"So I never cared for love in any way. Matter of fact I despised everyone who was in love with the idea of being in love. Cupid this, cupid that, she was created by the master himself, he was sent to me just for me, love is everything, being in love is everything, ya-dee-yah-yah-yah. The list goes on of what people say. Listen, I want for people to be happy, but I've got to be real too. I think everyone who falls for the idea of being in love is definitely a little delusional.

Case of point, some women will say they want a good, honest, hard working man and in someway that defines who they will fall in love with, but in fact a lot of them want someone who will provide, so they don't have to. They want him to be honest, because they've got trust issues. They want a 'good' man because well, they've run into a few bad ones. All in all, they've got some logical reason for this 'illogical' thing.

Men will be like, I want a woman who's wife material, who is confident and smart and has a great smile. Well, they want that confident woman because they may be insecure to some degree and so they want that confidence to rub off on them; smart, because that means more than likely she'll also be making money; great smile, they only say that to not sound shallow but what they really want is a woman that they'll enjoy being with in the bed and they'll feel good if their friends and colleagues think ““Wow, how'd he pull that?””. That's what I've found to be the case as a counselor. Go figure right.

Anyways, I sit there, listening to the Sams, Johns, Lacents, Jackys, Moniques and Elizabeths of this world complain, or rejoice in finding that special someone, and eight to twenty-four months later they're having second thoughts. I ask them why and listen to the same thing over and over and over again as I discretely doodle in my folder. They say, he's changed, she's changed, they're not who I thought they were, they're not relationship material, they found out they aren't compatible, have different priorities or life goals and the communication sucks. Quite often if I actually pay attention and listen, I find what they really mean to say is, the person got comfortable so they're being themselves, which technically wasn't about an actual change but just timing; you didn't give yourself enough time to get to know them, you saw something and jumped in. You aren't compatible, that's a combination of the first two. You wanting more or less than what you've got; priorities don't change that often and when they do it's usually a mid-life crisis, a man who wants that promotion more than anything else will be spending more time at the office and less time with the family, the woman who wants that purse will put it on her credit card and mess up her credit that's already the lowest of the low. Things easily observed. Communication is difficult because everyone wants what they want, some won't talk because they don't want to hear you speak, others won't shut it because they've got mounds of things to get off their chest, both people refuse to give and take and put in the work.

Day in and day out, I take two stress gummies, do a calm lesson on my phone and prepare for the next client and their love woes. You might think I come from a broken family, or a trauma filled household but nope, I just came from a realistic one. When my father would say to my mom, ““Beth this food gave my stomach and my mouth a warm time last night.”” I respected that. When he'd say, ““I'm tired of seeing you in the same type of night dress.”” I respected that. My mom would try out different recipes, or cut out the one before, or we'd eat first and she'll be like, “"It's a no babe, pick up something edible on your way home.”” She'd drag my sister and two brothers to the intimates store and we'd spend hours looking at new night dresses and she'd pick up twelve and choose two. When she used to tell my dad, "Roger, I need you to fix the closet doors." I respected that. She was a great DIY type of person but requesting he do things around the house, he lived in, was a strong sense of partnership. When she used to ask him to go to the store and pick up food and cleaning supplies, he did it with ease. I respected that. When they argued, they both shut it when each other was talking, so they could hear what they needed to know and understand or catch the other slipping. Who knows, but tension never raised over the lack of listening to someone, it raised for the purpose of passionate points of view, and after every argument, there came "Thanks for listening." Not a "I'll do what you want me to do, or I'm over it, or I don't even know why I bother with you." Nope, just a simple, “"Thanks for listening.””

I didn’t grow up seeing them give each other a kiss or say ““I love you.”” or any other ‘loving’ gesture once during my entire childhood. They’ve been together for 43 years and not an ounce of ‘being in loveness’. I asked my mother if she felt like she had ever been in love with my father and she said she looked at her everyday life and did what she wanted to do and could do. She saw my father as a person she made a commitment to and that was enough for her and also enough for him to keep the relationship going. I listened to her as she said those words and it made absolute sense. Who needs love in a relationship?” Lailyn the 40 year old, mixed-race, r&b, soul music listening counselor said in a Jill Scott tone.

“Well, you’ve certainly did a lot of thinking about being in love.” Said by Lailyn’s own therapist Jacky-Joy.

“I did.”

“Does Nicky and Mark agree?”

“I completely and utterly disagree. What is life without love? We can’t possibly expect to be happy without it and being in love makes life more worthy of your presence. I’m pretty sure people have proven that time and time again. So Jacky, I mean you're a fine wine and you’ve more than likely been in love, right?” Mark, the 26 year old poet and teacher said in his super sultry Brian McKnight voice.

Rather quickly Nicky chimes in, “Why are we even having a discussion about hypotheticals. I remember when I was 22. I was working for a 30 year old mom of two as a nanny and she lived 45 minutes away from my home. She needed me from 7am to 11am and then 3pm to 8pm. It didn’t make sense for me to leave, go home and then return to my shift, so I found a few parks in the neighborhood and visited each of them. My favorite one was quite small in comparison to the bunch. It had three cherry blossom trees, two pear trees, a lake often visited by swans, and a man who had a small red and white cart that sold ice-cream. I often found myself laying under the pear tree, fully comforted by the lush green Bermuda grass accompanied by the latest book that I fancied.

One day on the 9th of July, while fully entertained by the birds in the tree, the ribbon I had used to tie my ponytail became loose and was blown away. I watched it dance in the wind and fly towards the pond and I was sure it was a goner until a young dashing man grasped it with his hand and smiled, as if he had won a marathon. Afterwards he walked over to me and with his dimples in full action, he asked ““Is this yours?”” I told him it was and I was so grateful to him for saving it for me. To which he responded with a continued smile. Then I stood up, which he assisted me in doing, and we introduced ourselves. Shortly after, the sun began to set and we parted ways. The next time I visited the park and sat against the broad pear tree’s trunk, I noticed him walking past the ice cream cart and waving hello, I did the same and then he asked if he could join me, which I obliged. Slowly our conversations went from us talking about the book I was reading, to admiring the landscape, to admiring each other. By the second week of us spending time together, I found myself with heart flutters.”

“The second week? That’s a complete load of bull!” Lailyn said.

“Yes, the second week and it was magical. I never felt so grounded and at peace in anyone’s presence but his. He saw right through me and I allowed him to. I didn’t hold my feelings back. By the third week, he was twirling my hair around his fingers and looking into my eyes, undressing me. Revealing every layer of my soul that I didn’t know I had. On the weekends we marinated right under that pear tree, laden with ripe, tender fruit and watching passers by; big and small, short and tall, old and young and the bees and squirrels enjoy mother nature’s bearings. We even brought a blanket and a lantern so we could watch the moon peak through the branches and absorb its light unto our bodies that laid topless, pressed against one another where I could feel his heart beat and focus on it. I thought about it, whenever, wherever and over time his heart beat became mine. We were a pair under pears and I was irrevocably in love. Something I had not known before, and it filled me with a fullness that man should not know because I understand the storm that comes with its absence.

One day, with a picnic basket in hand and white roses wrapped with twine, he walked over to me, got on bended knee and proposed. From that day, I threw all of me into him and he did the same, and for 17 years we lived every moment that way until Jole passed. And well I didn’t know what to do with myself; I was broken, fractured, burnt; by every memory, every word, every touch that I felt throughout my body; life became unbearable and has been ever since.”

“Nicky, do you think that’s when Lailyn and Mark started to emerge or was created?” Jacky-Joy asked.

“First and foremost, I was always there. Nicky was just too much of a dreamer to see it.” Said Lailyn.

“I’m gonna sit this one out.” Mark stated.

Visibly frustrated, Nicky exclaims, “To answer your question, yes. I think so.”

“You know Nicky, this will be your first time throughout all our sessions, that you’ve identified when and why your other personalities manifested. Fantastic work!” Jacky-Joy said with a closed smile and a clasp of her own hands. Nicky, smiled and wiped the tear that had been streaming down her face from the instant she began talking.