Hostess’ post about the divorces she’s witnessed got Pro thinking about his relationship mindset years ago.
But first let me quote the Ever Gracious One:
Some years ago a married friend of mine told me to only marry a man who wants me more than I want him. She said that if I did what she did, chase down a husband, I’ll be stuck chasing him even in the marriage. I thought it was true then because I saw what she did to get him and what she had to do to stay with him. From big to little things. She was the bender. Recently, she called me complaining about how he behaved when she was sick. I let her finish then said, “You know you’re trippin’? He’s always been this way. It was good enough for you for the last decade. Why would he switch it up now?”
That was me. I had to be chased down. And I behaved in selfish ways for many years after I finally dragged my sorry ass to the altar.
I commented I became jaded. Before that, there was a time I’d do anything for a woman. Yes, I wanted the chex, but I would call myself being in love. And once I was there, I looked in the direction of no other female. This was when I was between the ages of 16 and 21.
There was the Italian chick I got involved with at 18 some 30 years ago. She was 21. We were both counselors at a summer camp for the mentally handicapped. I wanted it to continue past the summer, but distance (she returned to school in New England) and our obvious physical differences prompted her to end it.
Then there was the zaftig African American woman, the chemical engineering major, I met in NJ the following summer, but who went to school one state north of me down south. I would travel by bus to see her (she’d pay for the ticket) that fall. It seemed she would only allow me to visit when her sister, with whom she lived, was out of town. Then things came to a head when she criticized me for letting her take the lead in our relationship and “not being a man.”
I was pissed. It was then I decided no woman was gonna get the upper hand on me. Then at school I got to know a cute little transplant from New York who also was a Jehovah’s Witness. That slight difference in our respective Christian denominations (and the fact she wouldn’t give Pro any) caused our relationship to go south.
The Spouse was on the rebound from another relationship when we met in 1981. We quickly hit it off. We saw one another on the weekends. For two years things were fine, but then the jadedness set in. I think it started when I went to a convention and noticed a bunch of fine-ass women, some of whom were starting convos with me. That was a big deal after years of females looking at me as if I was from the planet Zatox.
Long story short, I began to believe I was a valuable commodity (young black man with a prestigous, if low-paying job) and resisted the Spouse’s overtures about “taking the relationship to the next level,” e.g., marriage. There was the night in 1984 my brother proposed to his girlfriend (the woman who is now deceased) and she showed my girlfriend the ring. At that point, my girl lost her mind.
When we were alone, she started tripping. The convo was along the lines of: “You see your brother proposed to _____. So what are you going to do? We’ve been together now for how long?” She ticked me off big-time that night. Her rant only caused my resistance to stiffen.
I may have said this before, but here was the thing. In my 20s, I wanted to be accountable to no one save the person who signed my paycheck. I liked going and coming as I pleased and doing whatever to whom. I knew marriage would put an end to all that (although it didn’t, I just had to be sneakier about doing what I wanted to do).
But in the end, the Spouse made the decision to move West. I followed. Then she decided we’d move back East. I followed. Then she decided we’d move South ‘cause my drug problem had gotten out of hand. I followed.
I’ve had the upper hand for the most of the first 18 years. Now I believe she has it and ain’t letting go. Divorce simply isn’t in the cards for us. We’ve discussed it. But after 22 years, it’s like, what’s the point? We’re still too connected to one another.