A BREED APART

I spent the past few days thinking, reflecting and generally being in mourning. I spoke to no one here, talked with some of those closest to me in the states and avoided writing like the plague. I excised the badness and rejoiced in life on Monday (1/15). I rejoined life brighter and sunnier than I’ve been since before I got sick.

And I realized I should thank the universe. For a moment, I had perfection. My whole life I have wanted to be the right person at the right moment with the right person. I’ve always either needed to be someone else or needed my lover to be someone else. For a moment, I had love that needed nothing further. Whether or not I ever have it again, I can die a happy and grateful woman having known it.

I had a man who was secure enough in his own self to adore me neither in spite of nor because of my own greater power. I had a man with whom I could talk about things and who shared his great passions with me. I had a man who shifted the gravity in the room and for whom I shifted the gravity of the room. I had perfection. I was want for nothing. All the things I loathe about myself, all the tomboy aspects of me, all the ferocious opinions, all the dorky inconsistencies and all the days without makeup were on full display and yet still he made no secret of adoring me. He did not hesitate to help me in any way possible. He did not merely speak of helping me and potential future plans but he followed through on his word and rejoiced in merely making me happy. He did not hesitate to tease me, pull my pigtails and do all the silly things a boy does to make a girl chase him. I have never known a man to be so fully articulate in the joy of bringing me joy. I had a man who was more serious about me than I was about him. He made all the things I fear, loathe and am irritated by not vanish like a fairytale but ebb and easier to bear, like real life. I truly felt love by a truly good man.

And I felt protective of him, not because he needed me to save him but because he wanted me. I wanted nothing more than to show him every happiness he created for me. The vulnerability my brave, strong and virile man did not hesitate to show me made me feel all the more complete and all the more distinct. I felt like the only woman to ever fully exist when he was around. All my crippling fears about relationships melted away and my greatest fear became that he would provide me with joy and not know it.

"Can you feel his love?" My Chinese Angel asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When he is with you, can you feel the love he has for you?" She asked.

And I had no idea how to answer that. Words seemed so trite. At the time, I thought, "He radiates beyond anything I ever dared ask for. I’ve never met anyone with my frequency like this."

On Friday, when I realized whatever it had been was over, Yente said to me, "Perhaps he said those things but did not mean them."

"No," I thought, even though I nodded in contrition. He had followed through on too much. He had supported me in too many ways. He had let me in too far. I've heard all those words spoken as empty promises before. This wasn't that. Whatever his reason, it was bigger than he. It was bigger than his word and he was powerless against it.

"You’re not Chinese. Parents get crazy about interracial grandchildren." My mother said and I opened my mouth to protest.

But as it sank in, it just felt right in all the wrong ways. His shift came not long after I told him about how my mother was accepting of him. He was greatly surprised by the idea of my mom being unchallenged by his presence. Quite possibly, he was inspired to finally inform his own parents. Love can’t conquer everything. Nonetheless, they are the people who created such a man, so I can’t be angry with them even if they find color of my skin and the shape of my eyes unsuitable for mixing with their bloodline.

"Let me call him." My Chinese Angel insisted today (1/16).

"No. Please." I begged her. The one thing I realize and know in my gut is that he would have told me if there was something to be done. By not telling me, I know there is nothing I can do and it would hurt me unnecessarily. Every action he has ever taken has been to protect me. Whatever they are, he has very good reasons for not telling me. Considering my welcome when I went to see him at the gym, he hasn’t even told his best friend/co-owner of the gym.

No, there is nothing left to do except thank the universe for the gift if saw fit to give me. I now have empirical proof that the kind of love I have always sought does exist.