Choosing Acilyah: Chapter I

“Are you sure you gotta do this?” He said to me. It was the middle of January, and there I was standing at the edge of the bed in my ex’s guest bedroom. It was just before noon, and I was stuffing the last few items I’d left lying around into my bag as he stood in the doorway watching. His face was full of despondency, and I sighed as I said, “Please don’t do that. You know this is hard enough for me already without you saying things like that.” I’d been staying with him for about a month since my last boyfriend, who I’d dated after my ex, had broken up, and it was the first time I think I’d seen him in over a year. We tried to be friends with each other on multiple occasions prior, but it never worked out because we were still in love with each other. We were both in new relationships, and I won’t lie, we slipped up a couple of times. It used to cause a lot of problems in my relationship, and it got to a point where I had to completely stop communicating with him because of it. I was always pretty honest with my boyfriend when it came down to those situations, so there was never a time where he didn’t know what was going on. He would ask me all the time if I still loved him, and I’d always tell him I did, but it was complicated. I can’t speak for his side of things, but knowing him, I doubt his girlfriend at the time even knew we were messing around or that we were even still in communication. However, I’m sure she might’ve had an assumption because I know when he and I were together, I definitely had my fair share of them. My mother always said that you can’t choose who you love, and I guess for me, he was just that person. It made no sense to me why because he probably hurt me more than anyone else I’d ever been with. Yet, despite everything, he was the hardest one to let go of, and I hated myself for it. However, as much as I wished I could completely forget about him sometimes, I knew he’d always be there for me when I needed him. When my last relationship ended, I was kind of depressed, and for whatever reason, he was the first person I thought to call. “Hey, stranger…” I said. He answered with a welcoming chuckle, and it wasn’t long after that conversation that I found myself driving across the country to see him. He begged to book me a flight, but I turned him down because I didn’t want to lose my mobility. Call it being precautious, but with him, I never knew what would end up happening. He didn’t want me traveling that far by myself, but there was so much going through my head that I really didn’t want to be around anyone else but him. It was about a day and a half long drive, and on the way there, he called and checked on me every single chance he got. Anything I needed, he found a way to pay for, and with every sweet gesture he made, I became more and more restless to see him to the point that I almost didn’t want to stop driving. Then after it had gotten really late, he made me stop and get a hotel because he could tell how tired I was over the phone. I kept trying to fight him on it, but he wouldn’t back down until I finally gave up and listened. The next morning, I still had about twelve hours to go, and when I finally arrived later that afternoon, I practically jumped into his arms. Before I knew it, we were talking and laughing as if no time had passed, and then with one look, both of our clothes ended up on the floor, and we both ended up in his bed. Every time we got together, it was always like that. We were like two magnets, and despite our time apart, that still hadn’t changed. Now I bet by now you’re probably wondering what he did for me to walk out on him, right? Well, would you believe me if I told you he didn’t do anything? For the first time, this had nothing to do with him, and almost everything to do with me. None of this was his fault, and that’s why I felt so guilty about it. “My bad.” He said, apologizing as he pulled himself off the doorway. “I just hate seein’ you leave.” Tensely, I said, “Well, don’t look. I don’t want you in here if you’re gonna be making comments like that.” He huffed and said, “Well, what the fuck you want me to do then? I’m just ‘sposed ta letchu walk up outta here without sayin’ anything?” Continuing to pack away my things, I huffed and said, “That’s not what I said.” Looking up at him, I then asked him what more he had left to say, and I expected him to make some kind of dauntless remark, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” He nodded and said, “It’s cool…I probably deserved that anyway.” He started rambling a few things that were all coming out like word vomit, and I could hear the pain in his voice with every word he spoke. “I put you through a lotta shit, you know?” He said, still rambling, and I wasn’t used to him being that vulnerable. Whenever it usually came down to his feelings, he was always so nonchalant that I had to question many times if they were even there. It was strange. It was like everything I ever wanted him to say, he said at that moment, and I really didn’t know how to take it. He started apologizing for things he’d done in the past, but before I could get overwhelmed, I had to make him stop. With a t-shirt still in my hand, I sighed as I asked him to wait downstairs, and he took a deep sigh as he obliged. He slowly pulled himself off the doorway, and after he left, my emotions were even more scrambled than they were before. I had to ask myself if I was really making the right decision, but I knew I had to do what I had to do. He and I had been through so much together, and that was why this was so hard. We had a history, and when you know somebody for that long, it’s hard to just walk away from it as if it didn’t matter. The last time we broke up, things didn’t exactly end on good terms, and it took me years to admit how I still felt about him. There were a lot of things left unsaid and a lot of questions that went unanswered, so I never truly got any closure from it. I’d get bits and pieces here and there, but it always felt like he wasn’t being completely honest with me. However, this time he was different. Some nights we would just lay in his bed and strictly talk for hours, and based on the conversations we had, it was clear that the man I knew had changed. It was as if he had finally grown up and became the man I always wanted him to be. He talked about us settling down and starting a family, things I never expected to come out of his mouth, and I should’ve been happy, but I wasn’t. I thought maybe I was just crazy at first, so I tried my best to put it out of my mind, but as the days went on, this feeling in my gut just wouldn’t go away. I thought that being with him was what I wanted, but I guess I wanted more. The only problem was, I didn’t know what that something more was. I didn’t know if it was something I needed from him or if it was something I needed from myself, but whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t stay there to find it. I didn’t want to break his heart by leaving him, but I didn’t know what else to do. Every night I kept telling myself that I was going to talk to him about it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was mortified of hurting him, but I knew that if I didn’t say anything that it would only make things worse. Then came one night when we were in his bed watching a movie. Thinking about everything I had weighing on my chest, I was pretty down for a couple of days. Though I was trying my best to hide it, he could always see right through me no matter what I did. So after about half an hour, he paused the movie and said, “What’s goin’ on witchu?” Playing dumb, I pretended like I didn’t know what he was talking about. I asked him to cut the movie back on, but he refused. “Stop playin’ wit’ me.” He said. “You’ve been actin’ funny all week, what’s goin’ on witchu?” I told him I was just tired, and he sucked his teeth and said, “That’s bullshit.” I kept trying to tell him it was nothing, but he still didn’t believe me. He just kept asking and asking until I finally cracked, and when I finally said what was on my mind, he really didn’t know what to say. “So…what are you sayin’ right now?” He asked. “You don’t wanna be with me?” I sighed and said, “I don’t know. I just need some time to figure it out.” He turned his head away from me as he slowly swayed back and forth in the bed with his hands in praying form, pressed against his mouth in silence. “Please don’t be mad at me.” I begged him, but he still couldn’t say anything. A silence swept over the room, and at that moment, I figured it was probably better if I left. As I began to head to the guest room down the hall, he called me back and patted the bed, asking me to sit down. “I’m not mad.” He said calmly, as I sat back down. “I just don’t understand.” He asked me if he’d done something wrong and I quickly assured him that he hadn’t. “Then why are you doin’ this?” He asked. “I thought things were goin’ good.” I responded, telling him I thought the same, but that didn’t have anything to do with it. It’s not that I didn’t love him because I did, I explained to him. I just had to figure out what I really wanted out of my life before I gave myself in my entirety to someone else. I had been through so much up until then, and when I really thought about it, I never gave myself an appropriate time to heal from any of it. Every time I’d get out of one relationship, I’d find myself back in another one, and it was a constant cycle with me FOR YEARS. When I realized how much dependency I put on other people for my happiness, I refused to let myself stay that way. If he and I were going to be together for the rest of our lives, I wanted to be happy on my own terms first, and I just wasn’t there yet. I think the idea of marrying him just really scared me, as much as I wanted to, because it made me realize I hadn’t been taking care of myself, and I needed time to do that. After I explained all of that to him, he understood because, at the end of the day, he just wanted me to be happy. I remember he said something like, “I don’t want you to leave, but I know it’d be selfish of me to ask you to stay.” I looked at him as I caressed his face and again told him I was sorry.

“No need to apologize.” He said. “You gotta do what’s best for you, you know? Even if that doesn’t include me.” I continued to caress his face before I slowly turned his head toward mine. We both had the same look in our eyes as we leaned forward and kissed each other before we made love for presumably the last time. We had fallen asleep together that night, and the next morning, I snuck out before he could wake up, which brought us right to where we stood. Realizing I was acting selfish, I took a deep sigh and told him not to go. He turned around slowly and came fully into the room to console me without me even having to say anything. He just wrapped his tattoo filled arms around me and gently rocked me back and forth. He kissed the rim of my head and said, “I still wish you ain’t have to go, man.” I sighed and said, “I know… me too.” Releasing myself from his embrace, I turned to him and said, “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” He sucked his teeth and said, “Shut up…You really think I’mma letchu walk up outta here without sayin’ goodbye?” We both chuckled as I said, “It’s not goodbye, okay!” Again, sucking his teeth, he smirked, saying, “Then what is it then?” I shook my head and said, “Just know it’s not goodbye.” Then I quickly grabbed my bag off the bed and began to head towards the bedroom door. Noticing he wasn’t following behind me, I turned around and said, “You gonna walk me out or you gonna keep standing there with that sad look on your face?” I was trying to lighten the mood, and I managed to get another chuckle out of him as he motioned me to lead the way. I genuinely hoped deep down that I was making the right decision because he could have just about any girl he wanted to. He was and still is very attractive and successful, so many would have loved to have taken my place. It was scary, I’m not going to lie to you, because I didn’t want to risk losing him to someone else, but in order to find myself, that was a risk I knew I had to take. As we headed down the stairs, he told me to make sure I let him know when I got home, and I nodded as I promised him I would. Then just before I made it to the front door, I turned to him and said, “So this is it, huh?” He sighed and nodded as he said, “I guess so.” I took one last sigh, and then just before I grabbed the door handle, he grabbed me by the hand and asked me to wait. He had this sad puppy dog look in his eyes, and then he looked at me and said, “I know this might sound corny but…can I get a kiss before you go?” I took a deep breath, and I nodded, giving him the okay. He slowly moved forward and moved my bag to the side from my shoulder as he leaned down to kiss me. The moment his lips met mine, I was instantly swept off my feet. The passion in his kiss was more powerful than any kiss he’d ever given me, and I really didn’t want it to stop. When he finally pulled away from me, that made leaving him even harder, and I knew he did that on purpose. Those were the exact feelings I was trying to avoid that he just wouldn’t let me escape from, but regardless, I still had to go. He tightly wrapped his arms around me again as he told me he loved me, and I embraced him in return as I told him the same. I was trying my hardest not to cry, but I just couldn’t help it. When we finally let go of each other, he wiped the tears from my eyes before he stepped ahead and opened the front door. He helped me put my bag in my car and opened up the driver's seat door for me as I sat down. He closed the door behind me, resting his arms on the roof of the vehicle as he looked on silently until I finally put the car in drive. As I waved goodbye to him for the last time, I had no idea what the future had in store for us. The way I tried to look at it was that if it was meant to be, then it will be so all I could do from then on was pray and hope for the best for him and, most importantly, for myself. The story I’m about to tell you is about my life leading up to this point. It’s been a long road traveled for me, and though I don’t think I’ve reached my destination yet, I’m willing to take you on this ride with me as I relive my pain, my sorrows, my joys, and my disappointments. It’s a story about self-discovery that I’m willing to share with you, and my only hope is that you learn how to choose yourself first a lot sooner than I did. This is the story about me learning how to choose Acilyah.

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