Between Hello and Goodbye 👩🏾‍❤️‍👨🏾

Lately, I’ve been spending more time reflecting on the past, sorting through memories, noticing my triggers and patterns. I’ve been walking around barefoot, so grounded, touching grass as we say in this part of the world. Ever so often, a stone indents my foot, and the pain is sharp but short-lived.

Almost six years ago, I started an article I still haven’t finished.  Part of me thinks it’s unnecessary, a smaller part thinks it might be worth revisiting. In it I wrote, “I wonder if I’m still single not because I haven’t met the right person yet, but because I am not the right person yet.” I had just ended things with one of the greatest romances of my life. While he wasn’t blameless and we truly needed to end, I have had this statement rear its ugly head often over the years. More frequently these days.

I have spent the last 5 years single. At first it was an instruction, then a habit, then just my reality. Some days I’m extremely grateful for it. I’ve never seen singleness as something to escape. It is more of a process that needs to be done right to achieve the best results. Still, I wonder whether I’m doing it properly or just avoiding the possibility that I am indeed part of the problem.

Recently, against my better judgement, I fell for someone. I decided to follow through regardless of the amber flags I noticed, and truly, I’m glad I did. Unfortunately, like all things in our beautiful world, it has come to its end. While there’s a constriction in my chest every time I think of him, there’s no universe where I regret that we happened, even for the short time we did. However, sitting with my feelings has left me without clarity and wondering if we were ever really an item.

Since we ended, I have become a mosaic of feelings. There is the colour red who has begun to yearn for companionship and my person, blue who is slightly hurting and has retreated into her shell - unwilling to open up to another, a sage-olive mix where I am slightly envious of those with happy, healthy and thriving relationships as it feels like everyone around me is partnered up and I’m the last can on the shelf and mustard yellow where memories leave a sour taste in my mouth with me feeling foolish for being so trusting.

More importantly, there’s royal purple where I remind myself that I am the daughter of the King and can never settle nor manage. The part where I speak about how I am never a backup plan nor choice, but the entire reason for the plan in the first place. It is the colour that reaffirms that while God has great sons, it is better to be with nobody than the wrong somebody. All of these colours, beautiful independently, create a unique and complex masterpiece, which I am learning to understand and love appropriately in this season.

While things ended sourly, so much so that it has left me questioning if the connection was real or if I dreamt up our initial chemistry and care, our memories remain my favourite place to be. In them, he is laughing at my jokes, calling me “Oluwalolope” in an affectionate and indulgent tone, listening to my constant yaps and being my favourite person to gist with. There he is, holding my heart gently, engaging my mind actively and enjoying my company.  In those memories, he recognises the gift he has been given and treats me with gratitude and intentionality.

In my memories, there’s no goodbye. No tension or tears. Just the beginning of our friendship and an instant yet genuine connection. In there, there’s the excitement in my heart and joy on my face because I get to hang out with him; my leg in his crocs, hand in his and head on his shoulder. There’s hope in my heart and calmness in my mind. Most of all, there’s the beginning chords of a song I heard when I was 12 and loved but forgot all about until I heard him singing it.

In there, I find my favourite pair of light-washed bootcut jeans whose inner material tore when I was on my way to church one particular Wednesday, the other leg of the most comfortable heels I’ve ever worn whose mysterious disappearance I still cannot explain and ultimately, my 3-week-old AirPod Pro 3, whose theft still haunts me daily.

In there, my love of Friday is pungent in the air.

In the midst of my memories, reality has taken it upon itself to keep reminding me I’m here, and he isn’t. Yet between hello and goodbye, he was, and it was good while it lasted.

That’s enough for me ❤️