Manifesting, prayer, or whatever you choose to call it is typically the root of all stories because we all desire something then ask the universe for it and I am no exception to that rule. I asked God to send me a companion, someone to share my life with rooted in friendship and love. It’s a funny thing to ask God for what you want but continue to look for something else. While asking God for one thing, I was on the hunt for something different, a romantic forever person. Talk about arrogance. But, much to my surprise I then met you. You are all the things I could ever want, flaws and all.
From the first time I came here, I knew it was home. Something about how comfortable the space felt made me feel as though I was made to be here or maybe that here was made for me. I was in awe of the beauty of it all, the architecture, the way the furniture was arranged, even down to the details in the décor. I could sit in one spot and bask in this space for hours at a time without the need of a break because from every angle in my point of view, you looked perfect. I was Goldilocks and this space felt just right.
From the first time I was here, I did anything to preserve the moment that I was able to live in that space and when I left, I replayed every second of it on repeat as though it was my favorite song. As teenagers lay on their beds daydreaming of their crush, this place began to feel the same because I could not put it out of my head. I dreamed of this space so much that it began to lose its reality because it transitioned from a place to a feeling.
Alas, I was finally able to visit again because I did whatever I could to have a stolen piece of your time and it was far better than I imagined, yet there was this lingering feeling of confusion. It was like eating a piece of candy with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Still, I was infatuated with this place and it was welcoming to me, it was comfortable, authentic, ardent, and even amorous. Contrary to the welcoming feeling, some days you would simply push me away and those reasons are now moot points. So, these welcoming moments were always slicker than a can of oil as if the more I grabbed a hold of more time, the faster it all seemed to slip away. So, I reveled in my confusion because I was drawn to this place and this place was drawn to me, but it started to feel like as much as the place was drawn to me it did not want me there. As if you were in denial that you were my home.
It was like having a heart transplant that my body began to reject. I started to question whether this was home or just the idea of home that I latched onto. Maybe it just checked all the boxes of what home should be but was too hard, too soft, too cold, or too hot and simply not my just right. Consequently, every part of me struggled with accepting this because I longed for it to be home. I longed for the requited love I had for my home to have for me in return. No matter how hard I tried to rationalize that it was not my home, the harder it became to be away from it because here it was again always on my mind. Why didn’t my home want me to call it what it was, home? I couldn’t let this question go, I couldn’t let you go.
Soon after it was a rollercoaster ride of whether I wanted to be there despite knowing I was not made for it. I fought with myself about being there and even tried to rationalize with myself about you to find some place of balance. And, sometimes on the rare occasion, it was warm, safe, comfortable, and amorous until it was time to get up and leave again. I went up, down, back, and forth on this rollercoaster knowing that I felt unsatisfied with moments of happiness in this home rather than a lifetime of it. Finally, I decided that our boundaryless space could no longer hold the sacred space of being called home because only so much of me could exist here and it was not enough. Spiritually, I believe that if it were in fact made for me, it would be mine and it wasn’t, you weren’t. It was not my place or even my home. It was just a piece of a home that belonged to me.
But, like every story, something magical happened here, in the piece that I outlined in chalk all around this home designating that, this section is mine. That piece grew into something that was just as marvelous and beautiful as the first time I visited. It grew into the most sacred, comfortable space in this house, a space that is irreplaceable to the rest of the world. So, what you are not my romantic forever person? That’s fine by me because I have something more than I could have imagined. The moment I finally stopped wanting more from my home than it had for me and was still, I was able to find rooms that I did not know existed creating an unthinkable space. A space I may not have ever been able to have had I continued to beg for more. Joel Rosenberg once said, “Whatever you want too much you can’t have, so when you really want something, try to want it a little less.”
To this, in this home, for this space, I wanted it a little less and was able to have the thing I asked for and wanted most, you.
