A mi Amor, mi Agape

 12 years, I remember…

“Who is this guy?”, a myspace friend request in my inbox; my first question. The first moment I saw you, second floor by the art room. Red shirt, short dark hair, confident yet hidden smile. I connected with the most soul piercing, dark, brown eyes.

11 years, I remember…

“Not that I know or care, but do you like me or something?”; You know that my reply was a lie? You weren't just a crush that I would get over but, you must have had a clue.

11, I remember…

Unsolicited messages about every guy who got to hold in ways I never could. I never wanted to hear that, and in fact, I never got to choose. Never got to write “the most epic love story”, but still into you.

10 years, I remember…

Every passionate piece of music I played in band, every ROTC cadence and command. Every monologue or part I played on stage; I always saw you in the crowd. Did you look my way?

10, I remember…

I faced the threat of having to leave our school. In that moment, I knew you were someone I never wanted to lose. Ending up graduating and leaving anyway; it was the hardest thing for me. Did you feel the same?

9 years, I remember…

My only return to the school was with the intent to hear your voice.  only a few brief text messages over the summer and I knew it that was not enough. Standing outside the band room, I hoped to see you and had everything I wanted to say. I was almost amazed because in a matter of seconds you came my way. Your question asking why I had clear painted nails and you grabbing my hand. My soulmate, I could never again be “so far away”. 

8 years, I remember…

Your senior prom I saw the “break your heart” man, my friend, my King. Your crown was so befitting. Did you wear my favorite shade of blue? I would have pulled you to middle of that stage.

Fast forward one month, do you remember…

summer ’12, you truly inflicted a world of pain. I was in the back of his car and forced to see your left hand and his right-hand meet. What the hell did you expect would happen to me? Did you fucking care about what that would do? I can never hear How to Love by Lil Wayne the same, my gift to you.

8 days after that…

During get together in my room. You looked and me as I have always looked at you. I found your hand running up my thigh. You grabbed me. you wanted to cross “the” line. Like an Amtrak train, I thought “James, what would be in this for you?”. That bitch Hurricane Sandy came, made it a losing game.

In one month, my third semester had just begun…

I started to hear unsolicited messages, you know, a repeat of our first chapter. The story went: You noticed me, decided to pursue someone new, again it was someone I I liked. that time I was “certain” you knew. It would be one year before I got to make new memories with you.

7 Years, I remember…

“Can we talk”, popped up on my phone. In a psychology class, I stood and shuffled to the bathroom. We met in person, I said you will always be my best friend. But deep down, I always knew. I wanted to give you more credit.

Weeks later…

Put it Down by Brandy ft. Chris Brown was playing and on twitter I posted one lyric. My subtweet, meant for only you, and the next thing I knew, we are singing the same song tweeting line for line. Do you know what would have allowed me to hold you like that? Allowed me to study your body like an untranslated, Spanish, road map?

I got my driver’s license an item I only planned on using to drive to you, the place that is home. I send you something, a picture, or text, or both, I was singing a whole who love language and with an uplifted tone.

7 years and you asked,

“I have wondered what would have happened if I gave you a chance”. There was no need to ask. That time I gave you the truth, but you still chose not to act. Sometimes it not meant to be, doesn’t it go something like that?

7 and you asked,

“what is it I see in you?” again, I gave you the truth. I decided to leave another door open and not once was it me you’d choose. S.M., you just had to walk through.

6 years and I remember…

At a party, someone from our past decided to grow and casually interact. You saw an image and chose to react. But there I was, consoling you. Finally, I told you that a friendship wasn’t worth it.

Got out of your car and maybe I could have stuck to my choice and never looked back. Fists on wheel, ocean style tears, I changed my tune. But, by then you couldn’t trust me. I was not about to trust you.

there’s always a risk when you try to heal old wounds in therapy too fast. You run the risk of questioning everyone and I had a lot of bags to unpack. stopped calling and found myself with some dude who broke me. Where, were, you?

I helped pick up other people’s pieces when you needed. Still, you couldn’t even make it to my graduation. Somewhere along the way, you lost someone important to you, “I am here” was all I could say. That was the last time I reached out to you, not for one year but for two.

4 years and I remember…

Starting my career and onto a positive new journey, I prepared to heal our rupture. Requests for a conversation, just me and just you. “Not a good idea”, you couldn’t give me the opportunity? Both times, when decided when to come barreling through.

I am okay with it because as research goes, not everyone has this type of love, some only once in a lifetime.

I posted something on Facebook and said something along the line of, how can anyone call themselves a friend if you truly don’t put in the same effort for a better connection.

It’s been 1 year, 10 months, and four days …

I saw you. I traveled the world hoping I could run away, making list, prayer to my higher power to make as if you did not exist. Avoided music, you are my entire playlist. Avoided coming home, but my own is in you. The minute I looked at you, I knew I was screwed.

When I was asked if I would have a problem seeing you, I felt invincible and said that was up to you. Again, screwed. I tell my clients they are never going to let go of someone who “made you feel this way”. I hugged you goodbye, probably grabbed you so tight. But “finally” ready to let go.

Why now? Why ever?

I have a million and one questions, how many people has been welcomed back in your life with open arms? What is it that supports your decisions to forget about me?

Catching COVID-19 in March helped me chance my decision.

From the 1stt of September until 7th, probably around midday, I was being told I was to remain in the hospital because I might not see my 29th birthday. “it is what it is” allowed me to almost “go out” alone and in my room.

But I remembered…

You are my agape, the one I will always love whether you were in or out of my life. Unconditional means that I have no conditions or rules.  I want to remember your red shirt and your smile.

You introduced me to Frank Ocean's album Channel Orange, and you gave me Miguel's Kaleidoscope Dream in one summer. You think I wanted this, that this is what I decided to choose?

I allow myself to finally see someone else in my future. Accept that I have to allow time to properly grieve or accept that maybe it was never meant to be. Dream about a new guy up at the altar. Find someone who continues to travel the world with me. Trust that just because things won’t be easy, it’s me that someone will choose to see.

Maybe it isn’t you? Maybe the guy with me at the end of my days, is someone else; I can finally answer my own question, it is going to be ok. At ten, “No one finds their soulmate” – Sweet Home Alabama

James D. Williams (written 11/6/2020)