Yesterday I hung out with the French and Zambians. It was the last leg of the international cultural exchange program I was a part of. The focus was on creating capacity for the youth within the world of arts. It was a wonderful initiative and the bonds formed will last a very long time. We got to see how various organizations use arts to address the very real problems and how they engage with the youth. It is also where I met The Mexican.
There were moments when I could almost see him at my side and know exactly how he would respond. The thought crossed my mind – I could have done a better job loving him despite all the issues. Yet, I didn’t. My reasons for not doing so are mine alone.
What’s the point of this quick rant? Shit happens and we make choices. I decided to not beat myself up about it and that was that. I regret nothing. Loving him the only way I could and letting him go.
The music I wrote based on his energy is nothing short of happiness. I decided to not remember who we both were at our worse, when we could no longer reach for each other.
I will remember instead the man who cooked like a beast all the dishes from home, would dance while we were shopping, wake me up with loud ass music, who insisted on kisses before I brushed my teeth ( yuck), and sang Spanish songs to me when I needed to fall asleep.
He was loved…and will be loved again. By a wonderful woman. She will be just what he needs and deserves. And if the gods are on his side she will be so much more than he needs, desires and wants.That is my wish for him.
And I am not saying this to make myself feel better and be sanctimonious and shit. I mean every word of it. We both walked away with hearts that were broken.