On restraint in relationships, expression and the discovery of self through failure
Written by Imani Warren
Edited by Max Mika
I’m a failure at Love and I am sick of embarrassing myself. Sick of looking down at my hands and wondering how I could do such things. Sick of such things. I am also sick & tired of trying to find that sullen wedding ring, so here I am. Body & soul. Willing. Ready. I want to know why I can’t get the thing(s) I need. Someone had told me it was all within me, I just have to get it out. So I’ll scream and write essays as I commute the way down. I am on my journey. I start with exploration.
Sometimes I like to imagine scenarios far better than my own. It’s not that my scenario is particularly bad, it’s just that there are better to conjure, and I am rich in imagination. The rest follows. I don’t imagine a life much different than mine, but I imagine it enhanced with simple pleasures like Delilah scented handwash and San Pellegrino sparkling water. I imagine a soap holder more sturdy than mine. I imagine that the couch in my home is not made of foam, but a sturdy type of insert that allows for age, change, wear and tear. I imagine my wear and tear exists on the most artisanal of ingredients and objects the same. You can see my dedication to love through my items. This, through my scenario.
I also imagine this Person there. This Person that has it all figured out. Maybe not their life, but they know what I’m about. Before I get into this Person, I must chat about the fact that I have been waiting for years for this Person to even come close to existing. Don’t get me wrong, I have come close, but I have never found the Person to be the Person. They only have to meet one criteria: reciprocate. Equal at that, which is something more. I want the Person who wants me to always be doing just a bit more (then more than that.) I want them to beg because they always get what they want. I want me to be the Person that they flaunt. It just feels right to express this certain type of pride. They can beg. They can receive. These will always exist together.
Before I get carried away, let me tell you this: I’ve been waiting on this Person with no others on my list. I might scare them away, as I do so well. I might scare them away, but at least I am myself. The only thing I have. I will always be me. No, change is not up for grabs. My Person wants me to that degree. I imagine nothing of me, could they want to change. Just enhance and also appreciate. Shine light and question, thorough. Maybe they let me slip through the cracks, and slip up, I don’t know. I’ll probably exist here the same. In a state of want. I don’t mind this state, but it’s hard with to grow.
I’ve been waiting and I’ve been constraining messages. I have been sitting on my hands. Not for long, but I’m practicing and that has got to count for something. I have been wondering, when will the one be right for me? When won’t I scare them away? Where is the one for me and will they want me the same? Why do I have to try so hard? Why can’t I earn well? I’ve been waiting and I even broke out my shell. I don’t need no one to pry. I’m open, I’m willing, I’m a helpful type of guy!. I wait and wait, this reality is lush. It becomes more beautiful after each and every heartbreak. There are many of those. Imagine how pretty my heart is. Imagine how pretty I could be for that one.
While I’ve been waiting, I’ve had opportunities to cease the inaction, and go all in. I’ve had many. I’ve lost them all. Every time I feel success, I do hit a wall. I hope next time is different, but I’m prepared for the same. I hope next time is different. I just want my Somebody. Guess I’ve waited 3 years. I want my somebody, and I’ve cried many tears. Seems that didn’t matter. Seems that at my body, I let them shatter. I let them bend and break me, I let them inside. Come on, bend and break me. Be a nice guy... My words manifest whatever I want, but I asked for my Someone years ago, yet I’ve got nothing to flaunt. That’s OK. Guess waiting is just that. Constraint is beautiful, too. Don’t you believe that?
Don’t you believe there is beauty in waiting? Denial? Waiting a while for that walk down the aisle. There’s beauty in failure. There’s beauty in not getting up and not dusting yourself off. There’s beauty in falling, and then falling again. Losing a watch on the way down, an earring as you get up. Losing your shoes as you wanted to feel what it was like to fall, sole to ground.
Beauty in the ground. Beauty in being on the ground. Beauty in the ground being the last place you could be. Beauty in the fact that you fall on it the hardest. The final throw. Beauty in the distance. Beauty in knowing that you may not pick up, or respond, and I’ll still communicate the same. I’m making promises of genuine to self, and I must adhere to them. I must be me and never refrain. There’s beauty in your name. Beauty in the pain I feel because some things can’t always be confirmed. Beauty in the fact that “See you later,” were your last words. You may answer a call, maybe call me first. Beauty in the fact that I wear a purse so I can carry heavy things. I could carry your everything if you let me. Beauty in your letting me. Beauty in you not existing at all, but my imagination taking over. Beauty in taking over. Beauty in the patience it takes to do so. Beauty in the waiting.
I have been waiting. For years, and many times I feel like the thing I’m waiting on. I will let everyone know that the love I’m searching for has always been within me, but I am grateful for those who aim to get it out. I think I met someone who wants that. You know what I’m talking about... I have found a Person who leaves me on the edge of my seat while satisfying me more. I have found someone I don’t know well.
I want to get to know. I want to have an in. I want to feel special. Don’t want another friend. I want to be what I’ve been waiting for. I want myself to win. Guess the pressure is on. I feel it. No I don’t! I just feel warm. I am not afraid to be who I am. I am not afraid, because I have a master plan. I am an investor for the books. Historians will write about the amount of faith I invested in my beliefs. They will investigate how it was ever possible and how no one has ever invested this much since. I will be remembered for how many risks I took. How fearless I became after losing it all. I lost it all. I will gain it back again, but for now, I am waiting. My investments will find a home worthwhile. I have many a wrong, I just don’t know how to right them. Soon all will be figured. For now, we wait.
